Necessary Heartbreak

by Michael J. Sullivan

  Realizing that Leah was staring at her, Elizabeth finally asked, “What?”

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said you would be fine with me. I was so foolish, and you could have been badly hurt. Please for-give me.”

  Michael heard them downstairs and swiftly descended the ladder. But when he reached the bottom, both Elizabeth and Leah just looked at him. There was a tense silence. He waited for one of them to speak.

  “What was all the noise about?”

  Elizabeth and Leah looked at each other, although Leah quickly turned away.

  “We broke a jug out by the well, that’s all,” Elizabeth lied.

  Leah’s head shot up as she looked at Elizabeth in astonishment.

  “Oh, I thought you might have seen some soldiers, given the way you two have been acting.”

  “No, no, Dad. We didn’t see any.”

  The three ate lunch in silence. They had salted and buttered cakes of crushed, malted grains. Elizabeth nibbled on some raisins but avoided the mulberries and nuts. Michael ate heartily while Leah barely touched a thing.

  “I am going to get more water,” Leah said, watching Elizabeth’s eyes widen. “We need water.”

  “I thought you had already gotten the water,” Michael said.

  Leah didn’t answer. Michael and Elizabeth looked up from their bowls to watch her as she quickly descended the ladder.

  “Are you ready to go today?” Michael asked Elizabeth, but she didn’t answer. “Hello? Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’m ready.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re ready. Everything okay?”

  “I’m not sure . . . there were soldiers at the well.”

  Michael stood up. “You said there were none,” he replied, raising his voice and staring at her. Without warning he turned and ran up the ladder. As he reached the roof, he lay on his stomach and began to crawl its length. With barely a sound he made it to the far side and peered over the edge, looking toward the well.

  Leah had followed curiously behind him. She looked at him from the top of the ladder. “What are you doing?”

  “Shh. There he is,” Michael whispered, motioning for her to be quiet. “Or at least I think that’s him. It’s hard to tell. But I see a soldier over there talking to one of your neighbors.”

  “What?”

  Before Leah could finish her sentence, Michael put one finger to his mouth. “Quiet, I’m trying to listen.”

  He slid his body another few inches forward and raised his head slightly. Leah could hear some muted voices, but she could tell by Michael’s rigid form that he could hear every word. Once he was sure that the soldier had left, Michael gestured for her to go back downstairs.

  d“What’s wrong?”

  “Go down,” he whispered as he began to crawl back toward the ladder.

  Elizabeth was waiting at the bottom. “Dad, what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.

  “In a minute, Elizabeth. I have to ask Leah something.”

  He grabbed Leah’s arm and guided her into the first room of the house. “The soldier was asking questions about me and Elizabeth,” he said urgently. “Your neighbor told the soldier that she was a relative.”

  Leah nodded. “This is fine. Don’t worry. They won’t bother you then, knowing that you’re a relative. It will make sense to the soldier, knowing the festivities are taking place this week.”

  Michael shook his head. “How many soldiers did you see outside by the well?”

  “There were some but I couldn’t tell how many.”

  “Great,” Michael muttered, then added in resignation, “Well, we have to stay for now.”

  “I’m sorry. If I had known it would cause any danger to you or Elizabeth, I would have never asked her to come with me.”

  Michael rubbed his temples wearily. “Just give me some time to think.”

  “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Michael took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, her voice faltering a bit, before leaving him to climb back to the second floor.

  Michael leaned against the wall and watched Cassie stand to stretch. “Sometimes I wish I were you, Cassie. No worries about your daughter, no worries about keeping her safe . . . no worries at all.”

  He stood there quietly for several minutes, pondering his next move. Was it safer to remain or more dangerous now?

  His train of thought was broken by the sounds of Leah talking to Elizabeth upstairs about weaving, asking her if she would like to try to make her own basket. Michael strained to hear his daughter, who wondered aloud if she would really be able to learn how.

  “Of course,” Leah replied.

  The lamb was braying to be let out of its stall, so Michael unhinged the gate, poked his head out cautiously, and followed it out into the courtyard. Sitting in the shade beneath the tree, he could hear Elizabeth and Leah giggling upstairs. Something about Leah’s teaching Elizabeth to weave made him feel both peaceful and restless.

  “Now watch me, Elizabeth,” Michael could hear Leah calmly instruct. “First soak it . . . now pull it up tight . . . no, no . . . good . . . oh, good, Elizabeth . . .”

  “How is she doing up there?” Michael shouted to them from outside. He could hear Elizabeth giggling.

  Through laughter, Leah called back down, “Good! It’s just that the reed keeps hitting her in the face when she tries to bend it!”

  Michael relaxed slightly, then smiled to himself, listening to them for a while. Leah’s voice was so calm and smooth. He found it mesmerizing.

  “Dad,” Elizabeth called from the window, “come and see what I’ve done!”

  Michael stood up, brushed off some dust, and went up to the second floor. His daughter was waiting for him at the top of the ladder, holding a small, unfinished woven basket. Despite some gaps in her weaving, it was spectacular.

  “See?”

  “Beautiful, Elizabeth!”

  Leah smiled, catching Michael’s eyes. “Would you like to try?”

  “No, no. Boys don’t do that sort of thing.”

  “But you tried to cook,” Leah said. “Boys don’t do that here either.”

  “You called that cooking?” asked Michael, laughing.

  “No, I was just being polite,” she replied with a smile.

  Since Elizabeth was enjoying weaving with Leah, Michael decided to go back downstairs and sit under the fig tree again. Cassie wandered nearby, eating some grain from a basket left near the wall. Seeing Elizabeth so happy with Leah lifted his spirits. He wondered if Leah could ever be part of their future.

  He shook his head and fretted about the new night approaching. Life now seemed so simple in Northport when Vicki was around.

  Michael loved walking after a good swim. The weeks following Labor Day were always the best time of year on the beach because it was quiet and empty. The sand was still warm, and the sun’s heat soothed his shirtless chest while the waves caressed his toes.

  Michael saw the Connecticut shoreline across Long Island Sound. He smiled, watching the scenery around him: a father teaching his son how to fly a kite, seagulls wrestling for a piece of bread tossed to them by an old lady sitting on a bench, a girl throwing a stick for her dog to chase, and a few boys playing football near the basketball courts.

  But his favorite scene was the beautiful woman with green eyes lounging on a blanket about twenty feet ahead. She was watching him, smiling.

  “Excuse me, young lady. Is there room on this blanket for me?”

  The woman smiled back demurely. “Of course, young man.” She started to laugh. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

  “Of course.”

  Vicki was lying on her back, sipping white wine, and giggling. Her hair was tousled slightly from the ocean breeze.

  Michael dropped down next to her on the blanket. “Look who’s here.”

  Vicki rolled over to him, staring into his eyes. “What would y
ou do if I wasn’t here?”

  Usually it was Michael who started these kinds of conversations. But not now; it was much too beautiful today.

  “Not here? Where are you going?”

  “Come on, I’m serious. I’m so happy I found you. I know I couldn’t live without you.”

  “Yes, you could. You could have anyone you want.”

  She became quiet, openly upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously.

  “Oh, you know I would be remarried in a month or two,” he kidded.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm . . . would you remarry someone who looked like me?”

  “Not sure. I like blondes. You know, the Christie Brinkley type?”

  Vicki whacked him on his shoulder. “Oh? Maybe I should rethink who I might remarry.”

  “You have someone in mind?” asked Michael as he grabbed her arm gently.

  “Yes, I do,” she said with a sly smile. “I like a tall man. Maybe Brad Pitt?”

  “So, you’re looking for a man with looks and money?”

  “And Christie Brinkley doesn’t have money?” Vicki countered.

  They both laughed.

  “You really like blondes?”

  “Yeah, but she has to have a nice tan, too.”

  “I’m not talking to you,” Vicki said, turning her head.

  “Then I will kiss you since your mouth will be shut,” said Michael with a laugh. He peppered her with several kisses on the top of her forehead, behind her neck, the sides of her cheeks, and a few on her nose.

  She giggled at him. “Okay, okay! I’ll dye my hair for you.”

  “Good. And you can call me Brad.”

  “You!” She pushed him over onto his back, staring down into his eyes. “Oh, you know you’d miss me.”

  “Dad?” Elizabeth said, crouched down next to him. “Dad, you fell asleep. Did you have a bad dream?”

  “No, Baboo. I actually had a great dream. It was about your mom.” He stood up, pulling her up with him into a hug. “I miss your mother so much.”

  “I know, Dad,” she replied, feeling uneasy from the seriousness of his tone.

  “I’ve tried to dothe best for you, Elizabeth. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten us home. I really have tried.”

  “I know. I know you tried.”

  “But it’s never been enough. I don’t know why I’ve been such a jerk. I’ve been so upset about losing your mother. I’ve made so many stupid mistakes. I could’ve done so many things differently.

  “I should have let you roller-skate with the kids on the block but I was afraid you would hit your head. I should have let you go swimming with your friends at Jones Beach but I was scared a wave would drown you.

  “I should have let you go shopping at the mall with your friends but I was worried about strangers. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  Michael’s body began shaking as he held her tightly.

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  “No, no, it’s not okay, Elizabeth. There were times parents would call and ask me to set up play dates. And I would never respond because I was so worried you would just drift out of my life.”

  Michael released his hug and threw his hands in the air. “I didn’t let you have ice cream. Ice cream. Can you believe that? Looking back on it now, I can’t believe it.

  “Elizabeth, I can never let anyone take you away from me. I will never let anyone hurt you. When I see you, I see your mother. Without her, you are the only reason why I have any energy to live.

  “Understand this: you are the greatest gift I have in this world.”

  Michael pulled her closer to him. “I’m afraid of losing you.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Please don’t be afraid because when you’re scared, I am, too.”

  “I won’t. See?” His face lit up and he grinned, prompting Elizabeth to giggle.

  Michael glanced up and saw Leah watching them from the upstairs window, smiling.

  10

  PAINFUL

  REMINDERS

  Elizabeth fell asleep easily after a lovely yet quiet dinner that night. Michael was reclining next to her, but still wide-awake. From across the room, Leah whispered to him, asking if they were comfortable. Michael nodded, although he realized immediately how restless he felt.

  “Hey, do you want to go up on the roof to look at the stars?” he whispered back.

  Leah hesitated. A look of concern etched across her face. It had been a long time since she sat on the roof, almost two years. “Yes.”

  They climbed up the ladder. The sky was so clear that the illumination from the stars cast a soft blue light on Leah’s face. She shivered.

  “Hold on.” Michael went down the ladder and returned with the blanket from his bedroll. He placed it over her.

  “Thank you.”

  The roof slanted slightly to the right and was surrounded by a three-foot balustrade on which they sat. The sky was glistening with stars—like a mosaic of beauty, Michael thought. A tranquil breeze danced off Leah’s hair, and the light from the moon was reflected in her green eyes. She looked more serious than usual.

  “I used to spend a lot of time up here with Yochanan. We would talk about our dreams. But the last time I was here . . .” Leah bowed her head.

  “Oh, your husband? I can see why you would come up here a lot.” He took a panoramic view of the town. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful. The sky is really pretty.”

  She remained silent, catching Michael by surprise. “It is pretty up here, right?”

  But Leah didn’t answer. She was lost in thought.

  Several soldiers chased after the brown-haired man. Leah stood frozen, staring down at Yochanan’s face, which was covered with blood.

  The biggest Roman soldier towered over him, grinning. “Bring me back the other rebel,” his voice boomed as three soldiers joined the pursuit. “Rebels like you will be punished.” Then he spat at Yochanan, striking him in the side of the face. “Peasant! Jew!”

  “Get away from him,” screamed Leah from the rooftop. She ran to the ladder and half slid, half fell to the bottom. Then she grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and raced to the well, where she collapsed to the ground next to Yochanan.

  “Is this your husband?” the soldier demanded.

  “Yes!” She spat the word through her tears.

  “Your husband deserves to die. Rebels should die.”

  Leah glared, her chest heaving. “He is not a rebel. He is a good man. A peaceful man.”

  “Let him die in the dirt, fitting for such a man.”

  Ignoring him, Leah bent over and wiped some blood off Yochanan’s forehead. “Yochanan, can you hear me?”

  There was no response.

  She stood up and went to the well to pull up a bucket of water. Dipping the cloth in it, she went back and gently began to cleanse his wounds.

  “Let him die!” the soldier said as he slapped her hand away.

  Instinctively, Leah jumped to her feet and pushed the soldier away, slamming her hand hard against his metal armor. The soldier laughed as he saw her wince in pain. “Woman, you are weak.”

  She swung angrily at the side of his head, surprising him with the force of the blow.

  “Never touch a Roman soldier,” he bellowed as he whipped his spear against the back of her head. She fell forward, landing partly on Yochanan, who groaned.

  She got to her knees immediately, overjoyed that he had made a sound. “Yochanan, how do you feel?” She poured some more water on the cloth and gently pressed it on his head.

  A few soldiers had joined their leader near the well and were talking. “Did you catch the other rebel?”

  “There are still some after him.”

  “Is he caught?”

  The soldiers looked at each other and shrugged.

  The Roman soldier growled. “We must get him. Move!”

  Together they turned and moved away, back toward the city. Leah pulled Yochanan’s head gently onto he
r lap. “The soldiers have gone, Yochanan,” she said softly, fighting back tears. “We are safe now. You are safe. Please, please speak.”

  His eyes were glassy and some of the blood on his forehead had trickled into his eyebrows. Furiously she wiped it away. “What happened, Yochanan? Why did this happen?”

  He weakly touched her hand. “I am fine. How is my friend? Is he safe?”

  Leah wasn’t sure how to answer Yochanan without worrying him. “I am confused about this friend you speak of.”

  “He was with me when we were chased,” Yochanan mumbled. “Did he get home?”

  She nodded vigorously to reassure him. “Yes, he went home, Yochanan. He is safe.”

  He smiled. “He is a good man.”

  Leah shook her head, confused. She continued to try to stem the flow of blood from his wounds. It just wouldn’t stop. “How do you feel? Can you walk?”

  “My legs . . .,” he whispered. “I cannot move them.”

  Leah’s tears dripped onto Yochanan’s face as she cradled him in her arms. His eyes began to close and she held on more tightly. “Do not close your eyes, Yochanan!” she begged. “Please!”

  “Leah, come close,” he said faintly. He managed to reach up with his arm and pulled her head down, closer to his mouth. Gently Yochanan touched her cheek and then her lips. “You are mine, always.”

  “Always,” she whispered, her body shaking.

  His hand fell back to the ground and she pulled away to look down at his face. Gently she began to rock back and forth, whispering over and over through her tears, “Yochanan, do not go. Do not go. You are mine, always. Always. Do not go.”

  Leah stood up and walked to the other side of the roof. “Come here,” she said. Michael joined her. “Look over there.” She pointed at a mountain in the distance. “Do you see?”

  Michael nodded.

  “One time Yochanan took me there. Did you know that?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  She glanced back at him, her eyes upturned and searching. “I always thought you knew him so well,” she whispered.

  Michael was baffled, but she continued before he could answer. “We spent the whole day there, talking and enjoying the beauty of the mountain. There was a babbling stream we walked in that we followed all the way down to the valley. It was the most perfect day. He held me so tightly that night. The stars were so bright that we could see our reflections in the stream.”