The Damascus Way

by Janette Oke

  But by the time the first hints of light touched the eastern horizon, the wind had vanished. Jacob stood in the light as the women slowly emerged from their cave, their faces and clothes coated with dust. Julia’s dark eyes were rimmed with red. She removed her shawl from about her face and shook out sand and dust. Even her lips were coated with the pale powder as of a death mask. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but could only cough.

  Zoe stared at the rising sun for a long moment, then dropped to her knees and clasped her hands. To Jacob’s surprise Helena staggered over to kneel beside her. When Julia took her place at Helena’s other side, Jacob crossed over and knelt also. If ever there had been a time for thanking God, it was now.

  Afterward, they grinned ruefully at each other’s sand-covered features, then lashed their meager belongings to one donkey and shared out all the remaining water. The animals pushed at Jacob, urgently wanting more. The women drank their portions slowly and did not complain. When Jacob tried to explain where he thought they should go, Julia waved his words away. “It must hurt you to talk,” she rasped out.

  He nodded. The woman’s voice was rough and nearly unrecognizable.

  She coughed and finished, “Lead us, and we will follow.”

  Jacob tried to guide Helena onto one of the horses. But she motioned him away. “Julia . . . will ride . . . horse.”

  “But, mistress – ”

  “I do not . . . have the strength,” she finished in a barrage of coughing.

  In truth, it made sense to pair the younger and stronger woman with the faster animal. If there was difficulty, she would have a better chance of controlling it. As Jacob helped Julia onto the horse’s back, he said in a whisper, “Your mother is a true queen.”

  Julia’s eyes shone with a joy visible even through all the grime. “My mother is now a follower of our risen Lord. The storm has turned out to be a blessing.”

  Jacob nodded and turned away, full of his own deep emotion at the news. He assisted Julia’s mother onto one donkey, then Zoe on the other. Their few remaining supplies and the empty waterskins were fastened in front of each rider.

  He had debated which route to take. Back to the main road, and on to the next well? Or further along the most recent track in hopes there was indeed a nearby village and that they would share their water? Jacob would not have minded a discussion. But since the decision was left to him, he chose to return to the Roman road. He knew that way, and he knew precisely where the next well stood.

  At midmorning they passed what was left of Jamal’s carriage. The wind had devoured the drapes and worn the carvings from the corner posts. The wheels had collapsed upon axles overloaded with sand. All the colorful tapestries were gone. As was every scrap of leather. The wagon’s interior was almost buried beneath the sand.

  Jacob walked over and burrowed down, using his hands as a scoop. Julia came to join him. She spoke, her voice still a raw whisper. “What do we seek?”

  “Your chest. It would be good to have fresh clothing.”

  She dug alongside him. “And the two small bags. What I would not give for a bath.”

  “And I.” But it was not a bath that most concerned him. “I have lost my bag of coins in the storm. We might – ”

  “Mother carried another. Father insisted she have plenty for the journey.”

  Jacob felt a band of tension ease from his chest. They would likely be charged top price for water. When his hands found the chest, together they hauled it from the sand and into the light. “Leave it closed for now. If you open it, everything will get covered with sand.”

  “It is very heavy.”

  “The horse has little else to carry. The skins are empty, and the small bags are light. We can lash this behind your saddle.”

  Together they carried the chest and tied it firmly into place. They set off again, and around midday they found the road. It was almost completely covered by the storm’s sand. But the rocks that bordered it made a straight-line indentation, one that extended both westward and eastward, on to the horizons. They turned west. As they did, the women looked back, off toward Tiberias. Jacob waited for one or the other to speak. Behind them lay their familiar home and safety. And Jamal. But there was no well between them and Tiberias. The closest Roman garrison had been abandoned precisely for this reason. And Jacob knew they could not push the animals further than the nearest well. Not to mention bandits prowling the hills for just such stragglers . . .

  In truth, going west offered no certain security. There was indeed a well, some three or four hours further. But the wind might have filled it, and if so, they would die with the animals. But the women did not question his decision, and he saw no reason to speak of his concerns.

  Their progress was labored. Jacob dared not lead the animals faster than the pace they found natural. But the sun continued to crawl across the empty sky, and he knew they had to either reach the well by sunset or halt. And if they stopped for the night without water, he was not certain the animals would live through to morning.

  The land was utterly empty. They saw no other living thing. No bird, nor even tracks. Jacob found no sign that their caravan had survived. The air was so still it was hard to believe the storm had ever happened. The cloudless sky stretched out to where it joined with the bare earth. The only sound was their labored breathing and the animals’ shuffling steps.

  By sunset Jacob was nearing despair. Zoe walked slowly beside Helena riding the donkey, the maidservant’s arm around her beloved mistress. The animals had begun to falter. Julia slipped from the horse’s back, though her footsteps were scarcely more stable than the horse’s.

  Then Jacob saw it. At least, he thought he saw it, though in his state he couldn’t be sure. A faint rise on the horizon, a mere smudge that dimpled the otherwise flat landscape.

  At that same moment, one of the donkeys brayed weakly. It was impossible that a beast might smell water at that distance. Even so, Jacob took it as a good sign.

  The closer they came, the faster moved the animals. Jacob and Julia labored alongside them, drawn by a hope and a thirst that burned their bodies. Julia turned back to support her mother on the other side of the donkey.

  When Jacob was close enough to see that it was indeed a well and the cover remained in place, he gave a hoarse cry of relief. He fell to his knees beside the rock perimeter, his hands trembling so hard he could not make them obey. Julia stilled his frantic fumbling by touching his arm. He glanced at her. She had lost the ability to speak, but her cracked lips formed the words Tell me what to do.

  “Rope,” he croaked. “Reins.”

  Together they untied the chest and dumped it down on the sand. He lashed one end of the rope to the wooden cover that enclosed the well’s opening like a round door. Julia pulled on the horse’s reins as Jacob slapped the animal’s dusty rump. The horse was obviously so weary and thirsty its entire body trembled. Zoe took hold of the rope, and together they slid the cover aside.

  This was a desert well, so deep that when Jacob dropped the leather bucket it fell for what seemed like eons.

  When it finally landed with a splash, they all croaked a hoarse cry, animals and people alike.

  The first bucket the four of them shared. Then they scraped the trough free of sand and poured in two more buckets. The horses and donkeys pushed at one another, drinking with impatient slurps. Julia and Zoe helped him haul up the ropes. Over and over and over. Jacob drank until his belly hurt, until he could not drink a single swallow more. He washed his face, then poured a bucket over his head and scrubbed at his arms and legs, then did it again. And a third time. He went for a walk to offer the ladies what privacy he could.

  The last time he had come this way, there had been a dozen or so stalls. Poor structures offering the most meager of shelter and food. Of them, there was no sign. Not a stick of wood, nor a shred of cloth.

  Jacob kept his position using the well and the setting sun as the only markers. He discovered a slight indentation and
a small mound where he recalled the largest of the stalls had once stood. He began digging, and found confirmation in the form of a knee-high stone wall.

  Julia walked over, rubbing her wet hair with her shawl. “What do you seek?”

  “There was a stable here.” He walked slowly along the line of buried stones, trying hard to remember the details. “The horses are in desperate need of fodder.”

  To his enormous relief, his recollections proved correct, for when they started digging they came upon a series of three wooden chests bolted to the stones, and in the second chest were oats. Together they carried double handfuls back to the well and dumped their precious cargo into the water trough. Once again the animals shouldered and jostled one another.

  Helena said, “Maybe we can eat this too?”

  “A tiny bit only, mistress. Else it will swell up your insides and cause great pain.” He dribbled a few oats into her hand. “Chew long and hard, then chew again. This and no more.”

  They settled down beside the well, only sand for their bed and their pillow, and watched the stars come out. Jacob’s stomach clenched with a stabbing desire for more food. Until then his thirst had been so great he had felt no hunger. But he could go a night without anything to eat. And so could the women, he was sure.

  As the first stars came out, they joined hands for another shared prayer of thanks. Jacob bid the ladies good-night and lay watching the sea of stars.

  They arrived in Ginae just before midday. They went to the inn at the center of town, where the women were directed upstairs, and water was heated for their bath. Jacob made do with a servant’s wash at the stable’s rear trough, sighing with pleasure as bucket after bucket sluiced away the dirt. He changed into robes loaned by the stable master and washed his clothes, then entered the inn to find every eye upon him. The innkeeper demanded, “Is it true what the woman says, you survived the storm?”

  Jacob nodded. “We did.”

  The innkeeper set down a steaming bowl of stew and a platter of unleavened bread. “In a cave?”

  “Two of them.” Jacob spoke no more until he had finished his second bowl. The tavern became increasingly full with curious villagers. The three women returned downstairs, fresh-faced and clean, though their eyes still held the strain of their recent experience. Jacob supposed his own expression resembled theirs. When he could eat no more, he pushed the bowl away and related what had happened.

  Julia and Helena sat across from him, watching him as they ate. Zoe had refused the invitation to join them at table, instead taking her place with the servants at the back of the room. Neither Helena nor Julia spoke until the bowls were finally taken away and tea was offered. Helena cradled her mug and said quietly, “Everything Jacob says is true. We are here because of his bravery and wisdom. And because of the Lord’s care for us.”

  The innkeeper said, “We’ve had no word from either the south or the east.”

  “No caravan has passed this way?”

  “Neither camel nor horse nor traveler until your good selves arrived.”

  Julia asked, “The storm struck here?”

  “The hills offered us some shelter. But yes, we were hit. Most folk haven’t ventured beyond their front door for days.”

  A voice from the crowd added, “It’s a good thing the storm did not strike a week earlier. Else we’d have lost the fruit and olive crops.”

  The innkeeper picked up Jacob’s empty bowl. “Some might call that a sign.”

  A woman’s voice. “Or a miracle.”

  Julia said, “I have had that very word echoing through my mind since the moment we arrived in the cave.”

  Helena’s eyes searched the faces in the crowd, then asked, “You are all followers of the Way?”

  “Aye, mistress. We are. Some for a time. Others for only a few days.”

  “And I for three days only,” Helena said quietly. “Has some event or miracle happened here?”

  Jacob had often reflected upon that word, miracle. Alban’s rescue of him, finding his sister, Linux’s friendship, Abigail’s healing, surviving the recent sandstorm. So many miracles. And yet another was added that very moment, when the innkeeper replied, “Aye, mistress, that it has. We were visited not so long ago by one who walked the earth with Jesus. A teacher, Philip by name. He spoke, and it seemed as though we heard not a man, but the voice of God. He baptized almost all the village.” The innkeeper smiled at the recollection. “He came in the company of others from Jerusalem.”

  A voice from the crowd added, “And that woman from Sychar. Helzebah.”

  Helena’s head swung around. “Helzebah of Sychar? Here?”

  “Aye, that’s the one. She traveled with two women from Jerusalem. Martha was one, she had spent much time with the Lord, and the other was – ”

  Jacob realized he had risen to his feet, as though pulled upward by an unseen hand. “Abigail?”

  “You know her?”

  “She is my sister!”

  A rippling passed through the crowd, like the passage of a breeze over wheat. A woman said, “She taught us all day, and much of the night, and then again the next morning.”

  “Her face was filled with the same light as the man Philip’s as she spoke of Jesus,” said another.

  Helena asked, “Where are they now?”

  The innkeeper said, “They traveled north and east with the disciple and the Roman soldier.”

  “He was a Gaul,” a man corrected, “and a soldier no longer.”

  Jacob breathed the one word. “Alban.”

  “You know of this man?”

  “He is my guardian. Last time I saw him, he was most unwell.”

  “He was faring better, though still weak. He spoke little, but what he said . . .” The innkeeper shook his head. “After I was baptized, the Roman centurion embraced me and called me brother. I wept.”

  “And I,” said another.

  Jacob asked once more, “Can you tell us where they went?”

  “That I can, for my cousin traveled with them as guard. Their destination was Nain. The woman called Abigail was to take over a market stall where all the roads come together.”

  “Was Helzebah with them?” asked Helena intently.

  “Aye, mistress. She went to help them settle.”

  Helena said to Jacob, “Then I must travel to Nain.”

  Jacob nodded and tried to keep the concern from his voice. “I understand, mistress.”

  Julia said in a whisper, “This change of plan troubles you?”

  Jacob nodded and answered in a low voice. “Jamal entrusted me with the care of you and your mother, but also with another urgent matter. I need to travel to Joppa. I am already delayed.”

  Helena must have overheard, because she looked about the small gathering. “Can any of you lead my daughter and maidservant and me safely to Nain?”

  Several voices crowded together. The innkeeper lifted his voice to make himself heard. “We can and will, mistress.”

  “It is settled then,” went on Helena. She looked at Julia, who nodded.

  “You are free to follow your orders, Jacob.”

  “If you are well cared for and will excuse me, mistress, I will depart.” He dipped a bow.

  “What? You must leave now?” Julia questioned.

  Jacob did his best to hide his weariness. “Jamal’s errand holds a great deal of urgency. I should be off while the light and weather are with me. And I also need to find a messenger to carry back word to the master that you both, along with Zoe, are safe.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The Megiddo Plains

  The change that Julia had seen in her mother over the few days since she had acknowledged Jesus as her Messiah was truly astonishing. Zoe also remarked on it. Julia no longer felt she had to serve as her mother’s protector. Helena appeared quite able to make decisions on her own. Even their horrible ordeal of waiting out the storm, then traveling the seemingly endless journey across piled sand and trackless te
rrain, had not brought on another of Helena’s headaches.

  Now Helena had surprised her once again. Julia had not been able to believe her own hearing when her mother decided that the three of them would not travel on to Joppa as Jamal had planned but would divert to the small village of Nain to see a friend of years past. Surely Helzebah was only a name in Helena’s faint memory from childhood. Though since her own conversion, Helena had several times asked Zoe to repeat Helzebah’s story of meeting the Master during the time of his Judean ministry.

  Julia was very aware that Jacob’s presence and direction would be missed. For a moment she considered arguing that it would not be wise for them to travel on their own to a different destination. And if they did, how and when would they be able to return to Tiberias? Jamal had expected them to be safely delivered to Joppa under Jacob’s diligent care.

  As Jacob prepared for his journey, Julia felt the need for one last word with him. He was busy with a strong cord, tying one of his bundles of provisions onto the donkey’s back.

  “Does it concern you that we are not continuing on with you as planned?”

  Jacob leaned back on his heels. “On the contrary, I think this is an answer to prayer.”

  “Won’t my father feel we have not obeyed his orders?”

  “There is no longer a caravan to guarantee your safety. No matter how hard I try, I will not be able to do this on my own.”

  “And what of yourself?”

  “Had your mother not suggested this other destination, I would have remained here with you until we could connect with another caravan headed west. But after such a storm, all travel is disrupted. Perhaps it would take days, even weeks. Then I would be left with another dilemma. Do I send you back to Tiberias under someone else’s care, or go with you and forsake my other assignment? Either way, I would not be able to serve Jamal as I should.”