The Lake of Dreams - Kim Edwards [124]
“Really?” I was too stunned to say more.
“Yes. It seemed like the only thing to do. I couldn’t support the decision on the bridge. And it was pretty clear that if I kept making waves, I’d eventually be fired.”
“But how could they fire you? You’re so good.”
“I’m good, true, but I disagreed. Which is to say I was disagreeable, at least in the view of management. I was not a team player. I heard this from three different people, who all said I needed to consider my future as I went into these Jakarta discussions. So after I talked with you the last time, I did. I went for a long walk the night before, you know, down that street where the night market is? I walked and I thought, and I couldn’t see a future where I had to keep silent all the time about things that really matter to me. In the meeting I spoke up in favor of rerouting the bridge, and after the meeting I offered my resignation letter. I thought they might not accept it, but they did, so I packed my stuff and went snorkeling with Julie and Neil.”
“So you’re unemployed,” I said, feeling the same admiration I’d felt for Yoshi as when we had worked in the orphanage, but also as if I were free-falling through space. “We’re both unemployed.”
“Well, needless to say, the Indonesians really like me,” he said, trying to joke. “I might apply for a position with them.”
“Jakarta was a good place for us,” I agreed, a little giddy with how quickly everything was changing.
“Don’t worry, Lucy,” he said. “This is freedom.”
“If you say so.”
He was so quiet I thought the connection had been lost.
“Come on,” he finally said. “I felt I had no choice, Lucy. So I’m trying to be positive. I shouldn’t have told you until I saw you face-to-face.”
“It’s okay,” I said, as much to myself as to Yoshi. “It’s only a job, right? And soon we’ll see each other, face-to-face.” I tried to make my voice calm, but I still felt like I was falling through the sky, no earth in sight. If this was freedom, it was also more than a little terrifying. Yoshi’s tone was light, but he took his work seriously, and this job in a country he’d felt was his own had mattered to him more than others. He’d kept such long hours and worked so hard, and I knew this must be difficult for him. “Yoshi, I’m really sorry about the job.”
“Don’t worry. I have some ideas.”
“All right. Wow—well. So, I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Yes. I’ll dream my away over the Arctic.”
After we hung up, I stood in the patch of sunlight on the floor, the room around me just the same as it had been seconds before, though everything else was shifting, changing. I thought about practical things, wondering if we’d have health insurance, enough savings to finish off the three months on our lease.
The beautiful piece of glass I’d made with Keegan was sitting on the white dresser. A thin shaft of sunlight radiated through it, making the colors glow. I picked it up and held it, warm and heavy in my hand, thinking of Rose a hundred years ago, writing, I do not know what will become of me.
I spent the day sitting by the lake, listening to the shifting shale, the steady waves, rereading all of Rose’s letters until I nearly knew them by heart. I thought about her life, and compared it with my own, which I’d always thought of as greatly adventurous, but which had in fact been much easier and safer than hers. She’d gone off to a new country with no money and barely the promise of a job, expecting a child. No health insurance for her, no social network, no family except her brother. It must have been terrifying. Yet she was strong and independent, and she had never given up, even though the circumstances and social mores of her time had left her at a great disadvantage. It was inspiring, really, to consider what she’d faced, and with what spirit she’d faced it, and I longed to know more. Taking the kayak out, I looked back at the house, so far away and small and insubstantial from this distance, and wished I could have known her, or known about her, growing up.
On Friday morning I got