Joseph considered these words, then went on, “I think you do like her. You know, Demetrius, I miss what she was before she got hurt. I try to cheer her up all I can, but she cries a lot when she’s alone.”
“I know. Sometimes even when she’s not alone.” Demetrius hesitated, then said, “I hope we’ll get the old Dinah back one day. I miss her like you do.” He was afraid to carry this conversation on any further, for he had feelings he did not want Joseph to know about. “Come along,” he said. “It’s going to be late when we get home, and we’ve got to clean these fish.”
When Demetrius broke into a run, it was all Joseph could do to keep up with the man.
Dinah sat in her tent, staring at the wall and trying to blank out her mind. She was aware that Leah was moving around and wished she would leave. Finally her mother came over and stood directly in front of her. “Why don’t you go out and join the other young women, daughter? They’re having a fine time working on a new dance.”
“Not right now.”
“Dinah, you can’t hide in this tent all your life.” Leah was worried about her daughter. She was not a woman given to affectionate gestures, but she put her hand now on Dinah’s shoulder, and her voice was soft. “You can’t stay in here forever. I know it’s been hard, but other women have had to go through this. Just put it behind you. Forget it, and go out and have some fun.”
“I think I’ll just stay here.”
Leah stared at Dinah, then snorted and left the tent. Her impatience was evident from the line of her back, and Dinah knew that she was trying everyone’s patience, including her mother’s.
The sounds of the young women singing came to her through the wall of the tent, but she had no inclination to go out and join them. At first, she had tried to make some effort to pick up her life, but everyone seemed to be looking at her, most with pity but some not so kindly. She had had to fight off the questions from the young women who had avid curiosity, who wanted to know all the details of the attack, while Dinah wanted nothing more than to blot it out of her mind. She had, indeed, spent much of her time trying to do exactly this, but she had learned by bitter experience that memories will not be confined. It was like putting something in a box and clamping the lid down, only to find out that it would come out again when least expected. At first, time had slipped along with a rapidity that amazed her, but now every day seemed to pass on leaden feet. And even when nightfall came and she could hide herself in the darkness, there was no escaping the sharp, bitter memories of the past.
Sometimes the whole terrible scene played out before her with a sharp clarity that brought pain, and which would not be denied. She had wept over how she had ignored the warnings of Demetrius and her father and had cried out—a thousand times, it seemed—“Oh, why did I have to go to that place?” As she sat there, the futility of wishing for the past to be changed, to be blotted out, seemed to drop over her, pressing down with an unbearable weight. “It can never be changed!” she whispered. And then she began to weep. She did not attempt to stem the tears but sobbed and let them run down her cheeks. Weeping had become a part of her as much as laughter had been before.
At the sound of someone approaching, she quickly made a grab for a cloth and wiped her face. She thought it was Leah coming back, but it was Demetrius’s voice she heard. “Mistress, are you there?”
“Yes…just a minute.” She did not want to see anyone, especially him, but she knew he could be persistent. He had come several times to try to cheer her up, but she could never face him. Quickly she grabbed a cloth, dipped it into the basin of water, and ran it across her face. Tossing the cloth down, she said, “Come in.”
Demetrius stepped inside. It was not quite dark outside, and his form was outlined darkly against the twilight rosiness. “Joseph and I caught some fish. Some nice ones. How do you want yours cooked?”
“Just any way.”
“Well, I don’t suppose you’d like to eat them raw. I’ll fry them for you in some fat. How does that sound?”
“It’s all right, Demetrius.”
The hopelessness in her voice and the sight of her shoulders brought Demetrius a feeling of great compassion and perhaps of something more. He had a passionate desire to bring back some of the liveliness he had always admired in her, even when she was at her worst. He knew that there was a depth to this girl that had never been drawn out, but this tragedy was accomplishing just the opposite. It was robbing her of her youth, her vivacity, all that made her lovely and attractive. Suddenly he made a decision. “I have a present for you.”
The words caught Dinah by surprise. “A present? Why?”
“Oh, I just wanted to give you something.”
“Not a fish, is it?”
“No,” he smiled. “Not a fish. You stay right here, and I’ll get it.”
As Demetrius turned and dashed out of the tent, Dinah sat down. She wished he would go away, for the very sight of him reminded her of how right he had been about Shechem and how wrong she herself had been. He had shown not one bit of the avid curiosity about Shechem that others had shown, but then, he had been there. It disturbed her to think that he had found her bloody and bruised and beaten, and somehow she knew the memory could never be washed from his mind.
Soon Demetrius was back. He came in holding several flat objects in his hands.
Placing himself before her, he said, “Guess what your present is.”
“I can’t.”
“Well, try.”
“They look like flat pieces of wood. Are they trays of some kind?”
“No. Guess again.”
“Oh, Demetrius, I can’t.”
“All right. Here’s what it is.” He held two of the pieces away from her in his left hand, and with his right he turned the other around.
“There’s your present,” he said.
Dinah gasped. The oil lamps burning in the tent threw off considerable light, and she stared down at a beautiful painting on a flat board. It contained brilliant colors, and she leaned closer to study it. It was so full of life! A bull was charging across an arena of some kind, and a young woman was somersaulting over the bull’s head. Two more young people were there, one in front of the bull and one behind to catch the woman who was turning the flip.
“Why, it’s so real! Is this what you were telling me about when the red bull almost got me?”
“Yes, this is bull leaping.”
Dinah was mesmerized by the sight. “How did you learn to paint like this?”
Demetrius shrugged and smiled. “Well, at one time I was sure that painting was going to be what I did. I had good teachers.”
“How do you get these colors?”
“Oh, I collect the materials from different places. You have to collect oils and minerals and mix them together.”
“I’d love to see this thing that you’ve painted—this bull leaping.”
“It’s something to watch, but it’s dangerous. I think I told you I had a brother that got killed doing it.”
She looked up and remembered he had told her. “That must have made you grieve a great deal.”
“We were very close. Here. Here’s another one.” She turned another one of the frames around, and Dinah stared at the picture of a couple—obviously mature people. “These are my parents,” Demetrius said.
“They’re fine looking, Demetrius.”
“Yes. That’s why I’m so handsome. I didn’t have a chance to be ugly, not with parents like these.”
Suddenly Dinah laughed, not realizing it was the first time she had laughed since the attack. Her eyes were bright, and at least for a moment she forgot her misery. “Are they as modest as you are?”
“About the same. The pity of it is we don’t have anything much to be modest about.”
He continued to speak of his parents, and Dinah stared at the painting. “I don’t see how anybody does this. We don’t have any painters among our people at all.”
“All Minoans learn a little bit about
painting. Some are better than others.”
Dinah considered the picture carefully. “Your mother looks so lovely.”
“Yes, she is. Almost the loveliest woman I’ve ever met.”
Dinah looked up quickly and saw that he was smiling at her. “What’s the other picture?” she asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
Dinah blinked with surprise. “What do you mean you can’t tell me?”
“I don’t think it would be good for you to see it, mistress.”
Dinah could not help grinning. The dimple on her cheek leaped into prominence, as it always did when she smiled. “It must be a very naughty picture.”
“I wish you could see it,” Demetrius said. He looked at it and shook his head with admiration. “Too bad, but I’m afraid it’s not for you.”
Dinah reached out and snatched at the picture. She got her hand on one edge of the frame, but Demetrius suddenly held her wrist. She struggled harder, crying, “Let me see it!”
“Well,” Demetrius finally said, “you’re the mistress, so I suppose you’ll have your own way. Here.”
Dinah turned the picture around and held it in her hands. She studied it and said nothing for a long moment. “She should look familiar,” Demetrius said. “It’s you, Dinah.”
Dinah was looking at the picture of the young woman that was painted on the surface. She did recognize herself. She was outside somewhere and half turned, with her profile showing. She was wearing her favorite robe, a light blue, and he had caught the hue exactly. “I never look this good,” she protested.
“Yes. I’ve seen you many times with that look. I think it’s the best painting I’ve ever done.”
Dinah could not look up. She was staring at the girl and something changed in her face.
“Do you like it, Dinah?” he asked.
Dinah suddenly looked up, and her eyes were swimming with tears. “It’s a beautiful painting. I…I wish I was still the girl that you painted here.”
Demetrius felt the compassion that had been in him for some time come to the surface. He stepped closer to her and took the painting. He set them all down and then turned to her and took her hands. He saw surprise leap into her eyes, but she did not try to get away. “Dinah, if someone you loved had been attacked and harmed by a wild beast, a bear or a wild dog, would you think less of him?”
“Why…no, of course not!”
“Then why can’t you understand that no one thinks less of you? For you were attacked by a beast worse than any bear or lion.” His hands tightened, and she could not tear her eyes away from him. “You’re still the same sweet, lovely girl you were before it all happened.”
“No, I was never sweet!”
“Yes, you were. I saw it in you. Oh, you were layered over with a silly selfishness, but I watched you, Dinah. I’ve seen the kindness you show to everyone. You must never call yourself selfish. A selfish woman would never have paid all her money for a slave…as you did to save me.”
“I wish I could believe that…but I can’t.”
Dinah was very much aware of the warm pressure of his hands. She was suddenly possessed with a longing such as she had never known before. It came so sharply that the poignancy of it almost took her breath. She wanted to simply fall into his arms and stay there so that the world could not hurt her anymore.
“Demetrius, I can never be the same again. My heart is broken.”
Demetrius pulled her down to the bed and sat beside her with his arm around her. She was caught off guard by this, but it was exactly what she had been longing for. She turned to face him to see what was in his countenance and saw the deep compassion in his fine eyes. “You could never heal my heart.”
“Well, you just don’t know me, mistress! Why, I have a reputation in my country for healing broken hearts.”
“Oh, don’t be foolish!”
“It’s true. I could have made a good living at it instead of being a sailor.” Demetrius saw that she was watching him with a childlike expression. She was longing for someone to say these things to her, but nobody had been able to.
“Parents came to me from all over Minoa, begging me to help their children who had been hurt. Many of them”—he nodded firmly—“were young women who had been disappointed in love.”
Despite her grief, Dinah could not help smiling. “And did you do it, Demetrius? Did you cure them?”
“Every single one!”
“And how did you do that, if I may ask?”
“Ah,” Demetrius said, shaking his head with mock sobriety. “I’m not giving any secrets away. Why, you’d steal them. You’d become the famous healer of broken hearts. You’d become rich and have nothing to do with a poor sailor.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that, Demetrius.” She took his hand then, the first time since he had brought her home that she had reached out to anyone. She clung to him and said, “I would never turn away from you.”
“You wouldn’t? Well, now I’ll take you on as a special patient. Dinah, the daughter of Israel the Hebrew.”
He got to his feet and lifted her up by the hand. “Come. It’s time for the first treatment.”
“What? It’s almost dark!”
“It has to be that way. The first treatment always begins just at twilight.”
The heat had gone out of the earth and the night breeze was cool. Out in the distance, under the full light of the moon, the full shadows of night had fallen, and the earth nearby had a gray, lucent shine to it as the two stood beside the same stream where Demetrius had been fishing earlier. The sun had dropped down in the west, and the clear light of the moon seemed to bring a fragrance to the land. The stillness was complete, except for the murmur of the stream at their feet. They had been there long enough for the full moon to clear the horizon and turn to a butter yellow haze in the air.
Overhead the stars were great crystal masses, almost bright enough to hurt the eye. And the coolness of the night air was a relief after the heat of the day. The wind softly roughed up the leaves that had fallen from the trees, and the smell of the land rising with the dissipated heat whirled in streaky currents in the moonlit air. The two figures beside the stream were facing each other. Demetrius sat in front of Dinah, his voice softly rising in excitement at times, and his hands waving in the air to outline his tales.
Dinah suddenly said, “You’ve been telling lies for two hours, Demetrius. When does your treatment for broken hearts begin?”
Demetrius smiled. His teeth looked very bright in the moonlight. “I have begun. Don’t you feel it working?”
Dinah stared at him and realized that she did feel better. The tales of his homeland and of his adventures on the sea and in foreign places had taken her out of herself. She smiled and said, “Yes, I do feel better. Is this all your treatment, healer of broken hearts?”
“Of course not. It’s just a beginning. Now the second part is very important.”
“What is it?”
Demetrius rose to his feet. Dinah’s eyes widened as he reached over and picked her up off the ground. “The second step is that you must be totally immersed in running water.”
Demetrius stepped to the bank and swung her back as if he would fling her into the river.
“Demetrius, you can’t!” Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung to him. “Don’t you dare throw me in that water!”
“Well, that’s part of the treatment. Of course, there is one alternative that will keep you dry.”
“What’s that?”
Demetrius turned then to face her. His arms felt strong and capable, and she suddenly loved the strong planes of his face as they were laid into chiseled planes by the moonlight. She had always thought him handsome, but never had he seemed stronger and more masculine and virile than at that instant.
“You must sing me a song.”
“Oh, Demetrius, I can’t sing!”
“Too bad. Good-bye, then.”
He swung her back and actually started the forward movement,
but she wildly grabbed at him, saying, “No, don’t! I’ll sing!”
“Good. Let’s hear it.”
He did not put her down but held her, and she saw that he was smiling.
Dinah began to sing. She had a beautiful voice and sang an old song she had learned as a child. It seemed to draw her back into the past. She was aware of his arms holding her close. The strength of his body seemed to give her strength. Her voice grew stronger, and when she finished the verse and he insisted on another, she sang another song she had learned while growing up.
When she ceased, Demetrius said, “That was lovely. You’re just like my old mistress again.” He suddenly put her down and said, “Come. It’s late.”
Dinah was filled with amazement at how the time had flown. She walked alongside Demetrius, and when they approached the camp, she said, “Thank you for coming to me…and for the paintings.”
“Well, tomorrow the real work begins. Get a good night’s sleep.”
“The real work! What is it?”
“I never reveal my methods.” Demetrius was smiling, and suddenly she found herself smiling back at him.
“You’ve got to tell me.”
“No, it’s so drastic, mistress! I used it once on a young woman from Greece. She was in poor shape, but I’m afraid it worked too well.”
“What do you mean? What happened to her?”
“Oh, she fell madly in love with me.” He laughed then and said, “Tomorrow we’ll have another treatment, won’t we?”
Dinah was filled with a sense of gratitude that seemed to fill her breast. She took his hand and whispered, “Thank you, Demetrius. I…I like your treatments.”
Demetrius suddenly grew serious. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it, then said quietly, “The best of life lies ahead of you.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
Demetrius dropped her hand. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. “It’s true. My methods never fail. I hope you can live through what you will face tomorrow. You’ll have to be strong.”
Dinah suddenly felt light and free. “I’ll try to live through it no matter how bad it is. Good night, Demetrius.”
The Gate of Heaven Page 29
