He approached the front gate and caught a glimpse of Elizabeth working side by side with Leah, preparing a meal in the simple kitchen. Their faces held a similar, peaceful expression.
“Elizabeth!”
“Dad?”
He could see her face breaking out in a smile.
“Dad!” She dropped a basket of grains and barreled toward him. “Launch!”
“No, no,” he whimpered, realizing his daughter was about to run full force into his weary arms.
In her excitement, Elizabeth saw only his face but none of his wounds. She hurtled toward her father and Michael reluctantly held out his arms. Giggling, Elizabeth jumped into his arms, causing him to stagger backward onto the ground.
“Nice to see you,” Michael said, before laughing himself.
As they pulled themselves to their feet, Elizabeth’s mood changed suddenly and she was no longer smiling.
“Where did you go? Why did you leave me here? You left me alone! Why? Why did you do that? I’ve been so scared !”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I have been trying to get back to you this whole time,” Michael said, patting her hair. “Are you okay? I’m here now. Try to relax.”
“Relax? Relax? How could I relax? You left me with a strange woman. You didn’t tell me where you went. I was worried you were caught and back in that place.”
“Remember this conversation later when I ask you where you’re going,” said Michael with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.
“Very funny,” she retorted, annoyed. “This is different. You left me alone here in a strange place.”
“I know. I really am sorry, Elizabeth. But I had to. I had no choice. I’m sorry.” He paused. “Hey, let’s go inside where we can talk more. It smells great in there. I’m really hungry.”
Elizabeth stepped in front of Michael, blocking his way. “Did you find the opening?”
“Yes . . . but I got distracted . . .,” Michael said, looking away.
“What do you mean?” she shrieked. “You’ve been gone for nearly two days!”
“I was looking for your mother.”
“What?”
“I thought I could find your mother,” Michael whispered as he put his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I tried . . . I tried so hard.”
“You’re scaring me, Dad,” she replied, backing away.
“Elizabeth, I saw Jesus yesterday. I mean, I think I saw him. I don’t know how it could have been him, but I ran after him. I yelled to him. He never turned around, so I’m not sure if he heard me, but I really think it was him.”
Elizabeth stared at him.
“No, really, Elizabeth. I know it sounds crazy. There was this parade. You had to see it. Honest. I thought he could help us . . . you know, tell us where your mom is. Seriously, you’ve got to believe me. It was him.”
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “I was there with Leah watching a parade, Dad. I didn’t see anything but Roman soldiers.”
“You left with her?” Now Michael was annoyed. “I told Leah to keep you here until I came back. It’s not safe where I went.”
Elizabeth ignored her father’s glare. “Dad, you’ve been gone, like, two days. I’m not sure what to believe. I don’t know if we’re in some kind of weird dream or what, but I don’t like the idea you’ve been thinking about finding Mom right now. Why would she be here? We have to get home. And now you’re saying you saw Jesus? Come on. Let’s not get crazy now.”
“It can’t be a dream, Elizabeth. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. I can smell food and taste it. I thought maybe Jesus could help us get Mom back.”
He raised his arms out to his sides, indicating the scene around them. “Elizabeth, c’mon, who would have believed any of this was possible? Jeez, after all those years in church, I don’t think I even believed that half those stories were real. And yet, look where we are. Seriously, do you really think this is some sort of dream?”
Elizabeth slapped at his arm in frustration. “Maybe it is a dream.”
“No, really. I know what I saw and it makes no sense. But if this place is possible, anything could be, right? Even your mother . . .”
“Whatever.” Elizabeth dropped her hands to her sides. “Can you just get us home?”
Michael winced, realizing how stupid he must sound to her. Why can’t I just let go?
He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth. “You’re right. This is just crazy talk. I’m sorry. I’m so hungry and thirsty . . . maybe I was seeing things? You know, lost out in the desert and all?”
“Lost in the desert . . . ?”
He grimaced at her, his eyes wide. “I got a little loco, I guess. Don’t worry; I’ll get us back tomorrow. Let me just get some water and food, okay?” Michael started to limp forward through the front gate.
Elizabeth saw the blood on his sandals; he really was in bad shape. Leah, who had been watching from the courtyard, noticed as well. She ran outside to help him, but Elizabeth immediately intervened and nudged her away.
“My father needs me,” she said pointedly.
Later they were sitting around the dining mat when Leah said, “We have some fresh bread, which Elizabeth helped make.”
“Really?” Michael said, looking at his daughter with surprise.
Elizabeth looked up and gave her dad a playful glance.
Leah laughed. “You sound surprised. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said with some pride in his voice. “I’m just still surprised we can even understand each other.”
“What do you mean?” Leah inquired.
“Well, we’re from Northport and you’re here in Jerusalem. Shouldn’t we be speaking different languages?”
“I’m speaking the language I’ve always spoken . . . and so are you.”
“English?”
“Pardon?”
“This can’t be,” he muttered under his breath, turning to Elizabeth wide-eyed.
Leah paused for a moment. “You know, Elizabeth was a big help to me while you were gone. She was very brave here all by herself. You should be proud of her.”
“I am,” Michael said, leaning in closer to touch Elizabeth’s hand.
Leah poured some water into their cups and they began to eat. “So you were able to find your way through the city?”
“Yes,” Michael said in between bites.
“Did you see that soldier?” Leah asked.
Michael hesitated. “No, never saw him.”
Leah looked at Michael. She leaned over and poured some more water in his cup, searching his face for an answer. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Michael tried to change the subject by describing to Elizabeth the marketplaces and buildings he had seen. He avoided any stories about the pain or tension he faced during his encounters with soldiers or civilians. He wondered if he should continue to discuss his theory on seeing Jesus.
That’s madness . . . this is all madness.
Elizabeth put down her cup and rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight,” she said through a yawn. “I’ve done that two nights in a row and you keep disappearing. Tonight, you’re staying with me. I need to keep an eye on you.”
Elizabeth pulled him up from the mat and brought him over to her bedroll, laid out in the small alcove she had tried to sleep in the night before. Dragging him down next to her, she whispered, “Don’t ever leave me again.”
He was quiet, sobered by the intense grip his daughter had on his arm. He began to rub her head. “Always remember I love you.”
She smiled, but the fatigue from her previous poor night of sleep coupled with all her anxiety regarding her father’s absence was too much. While looking into Michael’s face, she began to blink her eyes up and down several times.
“Close them, Baboo,” Michael said. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“I’m right here. . . Elizabeth, you’re okay.”
Her crying wouldn’t stop despite distracting sounds from the television, the radio, and even the stereo. The stroller was now against a wall in the living room, discarded there after he had unsuccessfully tried to calm her by pushing her around the house. Even his grand attempt to play “Silent Night” on a flute, an artifact he’d unearthed dating back to his grade-school days, failed to pacify her. So he stood there, two-year-old Elizabeth screaming under one arm with an old, tarnished flute anchored beneath the other.
Oh, Vick. What more do I have to do?
Anguished, Michael walked from room to room, searching for anything that would stop her screaming. He opened up drawers, showing their contents to Elizabeth. But the tears and wailing continued.
Back in his room, he noticed something caught in the bottom drawer of his dresser. It was where he kept the last few items of Vicki’s clothes. Wincing, he pulled it open and immediately saw her old blow-dryer. On cold nights, Vicki used to rub his back and warm him up by directing the hot air from the blow-dryer to his feet.
Michael pulled out the old dryer before placing Elizabeth down on the bed. She was squirming now, arms flailing and mouth wide-open with screams. Michael plugged in the blow-dryer and turned it on.
Initially, the hum of the dryer drowned out her screams. But as he rubbed Elizabeth’s forehead while carefully directing the hot air toward her little, exposed feet, she finally calmed down. Elizabeth reached over and grabbed his thumb. She gripped it tightly and closed her eyes.
Exhausted, Michael looked up toward the ceiling. “Thanks.”
Michael was distracted by the feeling that someone was watching him. Realizing it was Leah, he immediately glanced up.
“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered, looking away, “but are you sure you didn’t see the soldier?”
He glanced back at Elizabeth to make sure she was sound asleep.
“Actually, I did.”
Leah put her hands over her mouth.
“It’s okay. He doesn’t know where we are.”
“You have to be more careful! He will be looking for you again.”
“I know, but I’ll be okay.” He rubbed his eyes and shifted under her glare.
“But what about your daughter?”
“What about her?” Michael countered defensively.
“She can’t lose you,” Leah said, fixing his stare. “She would be all alone then. You don’t want that.”
“She told you about Vicki?”
Leah was silent for a brief moment. “She did . . . I’m sorry. I wish you had told me sooner.”
“I don’t need you to be sorry. We’re just fine.”
“But your daughter wasn’t fine today or yesterday without you. I hope you understand that.”
“I do.”
“Good,” Leah said gently, turning to leave.
Michael glanced at Elizabeth, who was peacefully sleeping now. “Excuse me, Leah? Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”
Leah nodded and smiled at him, leaving Michael to wonder once again, who was this woman?
8
A WOMAN’S
TOUCH
The smell of smoldering wood greeted Michael in the early morning, and he could hear Leah moving around downstairs. Elizabeth had finally released her grip on his arm. He stood up slowly and quietly, so as not to wake her.
He crept down the ladder. He could see Leah kneeling, her hair tied up in the back, her mouth moving in silence.
Is she praying? Michael wondered as he moved closer to listen. But as he took a few more steps, Leah stood up.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were there,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I was just wondering what you were doing.”
“I was saying my morning prayers. Would you like to join me?”
“Um, hmm, no thank you. We really have to get back to town.”
Leah noticed the dried blood on his right foot. “Go outside where the light is better and wait for me. We should clean and dress the wounds on your feet.”
Michael hesitated momentarily, but decided she was right. He walked out into the bright morning sun, coming to rest underneath the fig tree, which provided him with some welcome shade.
Leah returned with a small bottle, cloth, and a shallow bowl of water. She knelt down to look more closely at his wounds, causing him to pull his feet away in embarrassment.
Looking up into his eyes, she gently placed his feet closer to her. After removing his sandals, she soaked a cloth in water and used it to carefully wipe away the crusted blood. Once the cuts were clean, Leah poured the ointment into her hands and began massaging it into his wounds.
Her hands feel soft, Michael thought, remembering how long it had been since a woman had touched him. He closed his eyes.
“Boy, that feels good,” he said, resting his head against the bark of the tree.
“Good. Just don’t move.”
“Dad?” a voice called out from the edge of the courtyard. Moving out into the full morning light, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Michael and Leah under the tree.
“Dad!”
Michael stood up quickly, knocking over the bowl of water and jostling the ointment bottle from Leah’s hand. Elizabeth ran back into the house, climbing the ladder in haste.
“Let me get breakfast,” Leah said, retrieving the bottle before walking briskly back into the kitchen.
“Elizabeth!” Michael called as he hurried back to the ladder leading up to the second floor. He raced over to her bedroll, where she was sitting with her back to him.
“Elizabeth, are you okay?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder.
She flinched.
“I’m here. I told you I wouldn’t leave you again.”
She winced. “What were you doing with Leah?”
Michael slid down the wall to be near her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “She was helping me. My feet hurt so much when I woke up. They were bleeding. Leah offered to put some medicine on them.”
Michael pulled Elizabeth to her feet, guiding her gently to the dining mat.
She was quiet for a moment before asking, “Okay, so when are we leaving?”
Leah entered the room, averting her eyes. She was carrying what looked like pancakes in a shallow bowl. She poured some honey on top and handed it to Elizabeth.
“I know you like honey,” she said with a smile before walking away.
“Aren’t you going to eat with us?” Elizabeth asked, sitting with Michael on the dining mat.
“No. I should get the water,” Leah said awkwardly while climbing down the ladder.
After she left, Elizabeth picked up a pancake and offered one to Michael. “These are pretty good.”
“Really?” he asked with an incredulous smile. “Her cooking is that good?”
Elizabeth saw where this conversation was going. “No one cooks better than you, Dad.”
“Now, that’s my girl,” Michael said with a laugh.
“Let’s leave!” Elizabeth suddenly said with a burst of energy.
“Not so fast! We have to be careful. We need to talk to Leah about what time is best to leave.”
“Why?”
“She knows the town. I want to talk to her first about it.”
“Well, when are you going to talk to me about it?” Elizabeth demanded, bolting to her feet.
“Sit down. We are talking.”
A loud noise echoed below, startling both Michael and Elizabeth. They ran over to the small upstairs window overlooking the courtyard. Leah had fallen. She lay on the ground, holding her ankle and groaning. The jug had rolled over and was leaking water.
“Leah!” Michael shouted out the window. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer.
Michael hurtled down the ladder and ran out to the courtyard. When he reached her, he fell down beside her onto his knees. “Are you hurt?”
“I think it’s my foot.”
Michael pulled the jug upright before he lifted
Leah from the ground. “Put your arm up over my shoulder,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Leah stared into Michael’s eyes. Her green eyes gleamed brightly in the sunlight. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he murmured.
From the second-floor window, Elizabeth saw him wink at Leah. Elizabeth disappeared quickly, reappearing momentarily in the courtyard beside them.
“Hey, Dad, come check out Cassie!”
“Not now, Elizabeth. Honey, can’t you see Leah is hurt?”
“Yeah, I can see . . .”
Michael helped Leah onto the stool in the kitchen before bringing the water jug in from the courtyard.
Catching his eye, she said quietly, “Thank you.”
Michael was embarrassed. “It was nothing. Anytime.”
Elizabeth came in closer, pulling on her father’s arm. “Aren’t we leaving?”
“Yes, of course.”
Leah stood up, wincing. “No, you mustn’t go now.”
“We are going,” Elizabeth interjected.
“Hold on, Elizabeth. What do you mean, Leah?”
She pointed outside. “While I was out getting the water, some neighbors told me of a man destroying the Temple. I think you may know of whom I speak. Yes?”
Michael shook his head, confused.
“Well, there are soldiers everywhere now. The Romans are upset.”
“Why do they care about a Jewish temple being destroyed?”
Leah took a deep breath as she sat to rub her ankle. “Because the man defiled the Temple built for us by the Romans.”
“You aren’t going to listen to this, are you?” Elizabeth asked, shocked that her father was just standing there pondering what Leah had said. “We have to get back now.”
Michael motioned to Elizabeth to walk with him out into the courtyard.
“What, Dad?”
“Come over here.”
Elizabeth obediently followed her father to the fig tree.
“Sit down.”
Elizabeth glared at her father. “Why are we sitting here talking when we could be getting back to the tunnel?”
“First, I need you to calm down.”
“I’m calm!”
Necessary Heartbreak Page 12
