“He will be back soon, sweet one. Daddy is having fun and we are having fun! See my feet, Teri, look there; see the little green fish?”
Quarry pond
Teresa forgot about Daddy when she saw a green shape wriggling and twisting in the water. She smashed the water’s surface to frighten it away and then adroitly cupped water in her hands and dripped it on Mommy’s arm.
“It is delicious, Teri, and you can drink it.” Sarah cupped water in her hand and held it up to her mouth. Teresa threw back her head and spat it out laughing as it dribbled down her tummy. Simon swam back nearby them to watch. Sarah was like a mermaid playing with a faun. Blue mist around their heads fanned out to form water beads on the nearby deep green ferns that glistened in the sun. This is sylvan grace.
A week later they were relaxing on the large porch at David and Rose’s Shelter Island house by the sea. Simon was anxious to see how his parents would respond to Teresa as she grew. At first they were quite reticent with her, careful, as if they didn’t want to invade her space. Rose sat in a canvas lounge chair enjoying the salty air, while Teresa held on to the table next to her staring into her other grandmother’s dark brown eyes.
“What are you thinking about, Teresa?” Rose asked with a tight smile, lightly touching Teresa’s chubby shoulder. “Do you know who I am? I am your da da’s mama, just like Sarah is your mama.” The toddler rolled her shoulders and then did something her family deemed amazing: she took three pinecones out of a bowl on the table while grinning at Rose triumphantly. She lined up the three pinecones while eyeing David who was intently watching her. She took one and clutched it to her chest, gave another to Rose, then leaned on the edge of the table and squawked, “Da Da!” as she pushed a pinecone at Simon.
Simon moved quickly to grab her because she was gripping her own pinecone so tightly that she was about to fall over while giving out the last one with her other hand. Simon took it and then grabbed her just in time as she squealed ecstatically, “Da Dah, Mamah.” Glued to the whole scene, David exclaimed breathlessly, “She understood you, Rose! She not only understood you, she also found a way to show you she did! Simon, did you see that?”
“I did. She does a lot of things like that. When I get discouraged about the world, I stop thinking and look at the world through my growing daughter’s eyes. If this little being can be this conscious, then no matter how bad things are, we have a future. Children show us what’s coming next, our window to the future.”
Hours went by until the time Simon was waiting for—a private visit with his father in his study after Rose and Sarah went upstairs after Teresa went to sleep. Simon and David sat down next to a stained-glass reading lamp.
“Simon,” David began. “You have a lovely family. Teresa arrived so soon that I worried about whether you and Sarah could handle it. I’m surprised by how well you are doing. You care for your daughter tenderly. Watching you makes me feel like I missed so much by not being with you when you were little. I’m amazed by how confident she is. Do you think it’s because you and Sarah haven’t shut her down?”
His father’s clear gray eyes and kind expression always made Simon think in entirely new ways, the reason he loved their time alone. “I think we understand how she feels and vice versa.”
“Hmmm, well, Rose had a strong intuitive connection with you and Jennifer. What seems new to me is a father caring for his child as much as you are. Of course, from your point of view, this probably seems natural. But, Rose and I are detecting a completely new stage in human evolution. I’m serious about this. We have been noticing that many fathers are caring for their infants and toddlers, some even mothering more than the mothers.”
A red, crescent moon shining in the large wavy glass window with a view out to the sea diverted Simon’s attention. Like the Islamic symbol of the crescent moon and Venus, a bright planet was just below the bottom tip of the moon, probably Venus. He looked back to his father who was observing Simon framed by the lunar light. “Maybe old ways are coming back? Maybe men were this way with their children thousands of years ago, ways that are still common with some indigenous people today. Maybe you’re just talking about Western culture? Or, maybe this is how parents are with their children when reality is shattering? Dad, things aren’t looking good these days. I’m sure you follow what’s going on with ISIS?” David nodded. “Well,” Simon said tentatively not wanting to say what came next. “The Times will be sending me to Iraq and possibly Syria soon, as soon as next month.”
David slumped back in his chair aghast and blurted out without thinking, “Simon, you’re a new father; they can’t do that, you can’t do it. There’s nothing in the world that would make it worth it. Why would they send you there, why you?” His father’s cry of anguish and fear ripped into Simon’s heart.
Simon pulled slightly forward on the leather seat. “You may recall I minored in Middle Eastern religious sects in college . . . and you know I was fascinated. Remember when I studied abroad in Syria and Iraq? I also spent a lot of time in Egypt and Lebanon interviewing some absolutely brilliant Copt and Druze spiritual leaders, men I will never forget. Their religions are the oldest in the world, and some like the Copts adopted Christianity very early. Now they are threatened with extinction in the Middle East, a great threat to the West. Bush lit the Middle Eastern time bomb when he invaded Iraq, lifted the lid on Pandora’s box. And now we have radical Sunni factions, such as ISIS, stripping away the protections for the ancient religions.”
David noticed his son’s voice was panicky. The possibility that his adored son, a new father and husband, could be sent to the Middle East made his temples throb. He muttered in a desperate strangled voice, “No, Simon, no Simon, you can’t do this.”
Simon felt like his father was forbidding him, not acceptable at his age. There was a long pause then Simon said in a clear voice, “Do you remember when I was young, when you told me to follow my principles to keep the world safe? That narcissistic, sick fool, Bush, unleashed the demons from hell in the Middle East because he didn’t know the difference between a Sunni and a Shi’ite. Hell, I think our State Department doesn’t know the difference even now! These ancient spiritual traditions have worked for peace in the Middle East for two thousand years, longer even; for hundreds of years they’ve maintained balances amid ongoing Islamic sectarian tension. Unfortunately, Western powers aren’t aware of what they destroy. The spiritual leaders I’ve met stirred my heart and soul; I can’t ignore what is happening to them. As a journalist, I must give them a voice. I will be well protected, the paper is very careful about that. I’ve decided I have to go.”
David was so upset he had no words for a moment. Furiously he lashed out, “You can’t do that to Sarah. You can’t ask her to be alone in Rome with a baby while you go there; you can’t!”
Simon feared estrangement from his father. Be honest with yourself, Simon. You didn’t have the balls to tell William about it when you were there last week. Simon had planned to get a few minutes alone with William. But he didn’t want to spoil their visit, so it never happened. Now he could see he’d lacked the nerve to tell William. “Well, Dad,” he said, “what do you expect me to do, give up my profession? Few have the background for these stories. My editor thinks U.S. policy could improve if the public realizes what’s happening to these minority sects, especially the Christian ones. My editor also thinks the government has to face the fact that most of what the U.S. has done in the Middle East has caused great harm and gained little. If the public feels compassion for these suffering people, maybe people will demand changes in these suicidal policies. The Western invaders are mostly Christian, so maybe if they realize Christians are suffering, maybe they can abandon their blind desire to control the world. I have to offer my skills and knowledge in this battle between East and West.” He lowered his voice while engaging his father’s pained face. “I don’t feel my wife and daughter will live in a safe world unless I help reveal the truth. As much as Sarah hates the idea, s
he supports me. So, if you can’t support me in this difficult task, then where are we Dad?” Simon’s high cheeks were falling, he felt like crying.
“Son, I don’t want to make this even worse for you,” David said in a sad and heavy voice while probing Simon’s expression. For the first time in his life, David realized Simon’s life could be taken, just like that, in a moment. “As we’ve aged, your mother and I have been hiding our heads in the sand. Back in 2001, we hoped the chaos in the world would stop escalating but it didn’t; I guess we knew it wouldn’t deep down. I didn’t hide from the world at your age; I tried to make a difference. So, I’ll do my part to support you, that is, your mother and I will. One or both of us will go to Italy to be with Sarah and Teresa when she needs help. You can count on our support for them.” He turned to gaze out the sea window illuminated by the red moon shimmering behind Simon’s head. The ruby reflection carved out Simon’s ivory profile like a cameo, a pearled face framed by wild dark hair against silver glass.
Simon’s voice caught in his throat. “You and maybe Mom would go all the way to Italy to make sure they’re okay? I hadn’t thought about that, that’s not why I told you tonight. I had to tell you in person because I know how much you will worry. Bringing pain into your life, Mom’s life, makes me feel terrible with you almost in your seventies; you deserve peace of mind, to enjoy your granddaughter. Nobody wants this assignment less than me, but I have the ideal background. When I accepted my Fulbright to study this years ago, I had no idea this would come. I used to think being a reporter would be a great adventure, not a ticket to hell. These gifts were given to me so that I can give back. You always taught me if I give from my heart and offer everything I have, I’d be safe and protected. If I go to the Middle East with courage in my heart, I’ll be able to write stories that will make a difference.”
At his age, David no longer believed what he’d once taught his son about courage. Glancing at Simon’s profile glowing in front of the red glass, he wondered where his faith had gone. Am I just a lazy coward living in luxury dulled by fear? Why didn’t I scream and fight harder when Bush used 9/11 as a ploy to increase the military and create Homeland Security and the TSA? I knew all about the arms manufacturers—Bush/Cheney profiteers—yet I did nothing. “Simon, I have to trust you. Like any parent, I ache for your family to be safe and happy. U.S. foreign policy is coming directly back on all of us now, and you believe you have to do something about it; I see that. Your mother and I will make sure your wife and our granddaughter are taken care of while you are away; yes, of course we will.”
Simon felt better as he thought of his parents helping. “I’m sure Sarah would love to have you visit in Rome; Jennifer’s in-laws say you’re welcome anytime. Armando says they talk constantly about you coming to visit, and Sarah and Teresa could visit Tuscany with you. I would love Teresa to have more time with her Auntie Jennifer. When I think about it that way, it could be a blessing in disguise. Actually, Dad, I’m not afraid; if I were, I wouldn’t go. But I’ve been really worried about leaving Sarah and Teresa. I’d also love to see Jen get more support right now. She says she gets it from Armando’s parents, but as much as I enjoy him, Armando is self-centered. As the apocalypse unfolds, he’s obsessively painting it, and I think she spends a lot of time alone.”
David cheered up a bit when he thought of seeing his daughter. David had enjoyed a warm and silent communication with her as a child, but she changed as a teenager. She was catty and nasty with Rose and ignored her father, acting like he knew less than nothing. David and Rose endured this stereotypical adolescent behavior and stopped worrying about her when she became a successful photographer. They were aware she was having love affairs, the norm for a liberal Jewish girl. However, in her late twenties she had a very long affair with a man they never met, so they suspected he was married. But what could they do with the affair going on in Paris? Then everything changed last year when she met Armando. As David thought about it, it was time to renew his relationship with his daughter. “Well,” David said gravely, “that crazy Pierleoni castle is like a dormitory, so I know there will be room for us all to visit. They’re charming and we love Italy. Meanwhile, keep me updated. You know you have someone to talk to who can understand you, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, and I will. We will be able to handle this with your support. The worst part for me is the separation from Teresa because I’ll never get these early years back. In light of that, I made a pretty decent deal with the Times. I told them I would take this assignment for at least a year if they would allow me to go home for two weeks every two months, and they agreed. They’ll cover all my calls and travel home. This’ll work out because I can take on each six-week stint in a different location and work very hard in that area before anybody recognizes me. That’s safer, a good arrangement.”
After everyone was tucked in for the night, David lay awake seized with paralytic fear and horror while he listened to Rose’s soft breath. His stomach churned, his head filled with pressure, and his eyes burned even though they were shut. Just before the sun rose, a flood of anger coursed through his wrung-out nerves. As he drifted off to sleep in the early morning light, he cursed in a disgusted whisper, “You bastard, George Bush. May all the death and mayhem you’ve caused come back directly to you. May the pain festering in your stupid, sick mind stay with you and not affect anybody else. Try asking your God to heal you instead of attacking the East in God’s name.”
7
The Green Zone
Simon flew to Baghdad late in the day on September 8, 2014, staring forlornly out the window. The rising orange red moon reminded him of the dangers he’d soon be facing. In early August, ISIS invaded Yazidi villages south of Mt. Sinjar and captured the women for their sexual slavery system. The international community desperately sought ways to rescue the captured Yazidis. On September 2, ISIS released a video of Steven Sotloff, an Israeli citizen and American reporter, being beheaded in an unknown location, probably Syria. The day after Sotloff ’s beheading, President Obama deployed 350 more American troops to Baghdad to protect U.S. diplomatic facilities. Originally Simon was to go to Damascus to meet with Druze elders, but those plans changed in light of these recent events. Instead, he would meet with Mandaean elders at the al Rashid Hotel in the Green Zone. Simon thought of fire, blood, and human madness as he gazed at the moon bulging on the distant horizon.
He pulled down the window shade to watch a video of Teresa’s first birthday party. Her birthday was coming up on September 23, but they celebrated it a few weeks early because he was leaving. The first shot was of three babies and their parents jamming the parlor. He chuckled to himself as he thought about Sarah. She’d insisted on honoring an old Irish custom used to celebrate the baby’s survival of its first year: Irish parents baked a cake, placed it in the middle of a room on the floor, and then put the birthday baby down a few feet away. Why would anybody bash their kid with sugar shock on their first birthday? Considering where I’m going tonight, maybe Sarah needed that old superstition.
The birthday party was a riot. After Teresa blew out a single candle, Sarah put her down six feet from a carrot cake slathered with orange-flavored, butter-and-sugar frosting. Teresa stared quizzically at the inviting cake, and then she scuttled for it sideways on her butt like a speedy crab. The other babies squealed and squirmed in their parent’s arms while Teresa took the first turn. She made it to the cake and raised her shaking hands and screamed. Then she mushed her hands into the sticky, yummy frosting, pulling them out to lick her fingers, squealing while smushing the gooey frosting all over her face! Peering through gooey cheeks and eyebrows, Teresa howled triumphantly. All three babies shoved away from their parents and crawled over to smash their hands into the cake to grab hunks to stuff in their faces and squish on Teresa. So it went, a very messy un-Jewish feast, the Irish way to show gratitude for a child’s first healthy year of life.
Simon choked up thinking about when they said goodbye as a cab pull
ed up. Teresa had been extremely quiet and clingy the day before. Sarah took her out for a walk so she wouldn’t see Simon pack. Sarah thought she’d be able to make her feel secure, but they both knew their little one would be terribly lonely without him. Why should any baby have to endure separation? Will Sarah be able to handle it? Should I have taken this assignment?
Later, he opened the shade again. The limpid opal moon had risen high above the thick red atmosphere. As they flew over Greece, he promised himself he’d take Sarah and Teresa to Athens someday to see the Acropolis. An image of Sotloff on his knees in an orange jumpsuit flashed through his mind; a skinny knife held in a menacing gloved hand close to his neck. What was going through his mind at that moment, the poor bastard? Sotloff ’s death must not be in vain; he risked his life so that Americans could learn more about Syria, exactly Simon’s intention. Simon nodded off thinking he knew a few people who wouldn’t take the trouble to learn anything about Syria, namely the old fools who started the war in Iraq in the first place.
David made arrangements to visit Sarah and Teresa in Rome and travel with them to the Pierleonis’ Tuscan home at the end of September.
David spent a few days with them in Rome, and then Matilda sent her driver to bring them to Tuscany. Passing through Rome’s outer suburbs, Sarah relaxed for the first time since Simon left. She’d been afflicted with profound insecurity whenever she watched the news. The world really was going insane, a simplistic response to reality that she had managed to avoid until now. After Simon left, Teresa whimpered morosely a few nights, then she switched to laughing through tears while Sarah rocked her and told her stories.
Revelations of the Aquarian Age Page 7
