by Reid, Terri
“You have to see some of the beauty of this country,” he had coaxed, “Come for a few hours, you need the rest. It will do you good.”
Paul drove her into Istanbul, about 55 miles west of the epicenter of the earthquake. Even the ancient city had been affected by the tremors, shaking loose some parts of the old historic wall that surrounded the city. The city itself was a combination of old and new, parks and palaces, taxis and horse-drawn carriages, hotels and mosques. Eloise was delighted.
“This place is magic,” she sighed as she pressed her nose against the car window, trying to take in the ancient Turkish palaces, open bazaars and narrow lanes lined with shops.
Paul smiled indulgently. “I think you need some magic.”
She turned and smiled at him. “Thank you, I didn’t realize how much until just now.”
He returned her smile, took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. After a brief kiss on her knuckles, he smiled again. “Allow me to be your magic genie and show you the wonders of this city.”
Slightly breathless, Eloise only nodded.
Paul drove down a narrow lane and parked in front of a large, ancient building. The outside seemed fairly ordinary, but the door was painted in bright traditional designs. They got out of the car and Paul opened the door for Eloise.
Once within the building, they stood under a high domed roof. A softly murmuring fountain bubbled up from a nearby tiled basin. As the door closed behind them, the noise of the city was silenced.
“What is this place? It looks like a palace or a church. I can’t be in here looking like this,” she said glancing down at her dusty jeans and cotton t-shirt.
“This is your first wish,” he replied.
Eloise was confused. “My first wish?”
Paul moved closer and whispered into her ear, “Welcome, my lady, to the Cagaloglu Hamam, a 400-year old Turkish bath.”
Eloise’s eyes widened, like a child on Christmas morning. “A bath? A Turkish bath?”
Paul grinned. “And a massage and a steam room.”
Eloise impulsively threw her arms around Paul’s neck and hugged him enthusiastically.
“Thank you.”
Feeling suddenly shy, she dropped her arms and stepped back, dropping her head and biting her lower lip with nervousness.
Paul reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. He gently lifted her head and searched her eyes. “Your wish is my command.”
She looked back into his eyes and felt the heat rising from the pit of her stomach. She took a deep shuddering breath. If he kissed her right there in the hall she knew that she would melt right into the tile floor. His thumb gently stroked the underside of her jaw. She felt another burst of heat course through her body. If he didn’t kiss her right there, she would explode.
Suddenly he grinned, as if he could read her mind, and winked at her.
“Come on, let’s go in and get cleaned up.”
Somehow she got her limbs to cooperate and followed him down the hall of the ancient building.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, after finally finding her voice again, “ Look at the walls, the arches, the pillars.”
“It is a religious place for the Muslim faith,” Paul explained. “In Islamic art trying to create a likeness of a living thing is seen as trying to rival Allah, who is to them the creator of all living things – so instead, architecture is how they express themselves.”
Paul paid the fee and a female attendant took charge of Eloise. The woman, a short, sturdy woman with olive skin, dark brown eyes and black hair, led her down a tiled floor to a dressing room.
“Here you take off clothings and put on pestemal,” she said in heavily accented English, handing Eloise a blue and white striped cotton fringed wrap. “Wrap around after you take clothings off.”
Then she handed Eloise a pair of wooden clogs.
“Then put on malma and come out of doors to me.”
Eloise changed and wrapped herself in the pestemal, slipped on the clogs and left the dressing room. The attendant beckoned her forward and brought her down a short passageway through a set of swinging doors into a steam room.
“This is hararet, steam room,” said the attendant, “Here you get hot.”
Eloise thought about the near kiss that Paul had given her when they entered the bath and didn’t think she needed to get hot again, but she obediently followed the attendant’s instruction and laid down on the heated marble platform in the middle of the room.
Eloise could feel the tension seep out of her body as she was enveloped by the steamy heat. She slowly closed her eyes, leaving behind the wispy beams of light from the windows in the domed ceiling. The only sound in the room was the muffled pattering of clogs and the soft hiss of the water over the coals. Eloise took a deep breath of the softly scented steam, she hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time.
After about fifteen minutes, her attendant touched her shoulder, “Come, now you have massage.”
The attendant began a vigorous massage of Eloise’s body, pulling, twisting, kneading and pummeling her like bread dough. At times Eloise feared for her bodily safety, but the attendant was skilled and soon Eloise felt like a new person.
“Now, time for kurne,” she said.
Eloise was lead to an open cubicle with a marble basin filled with hot water. The attendant donned a coarse camel skin glove and then poured hot water from a copper bowl over Eloise and rubbed down her back with long sweeping strokes from shoulder to waist. Eloise cleaned herself with sweet-smelling milled soap, shampooed her hair and rinsed with the hot water. She felt wonderful; the primitive sponge baths she had been forced to take during the past few weeks had been no solution to the dirt and dust from the site.
She was led to another dressing room where she changed from her wet pestemal to a dry one and wrapped her wet hair in a thick white towel. From there she was brought to a sitting room where large propeller fans slowly cooled the bathers.
Eloise sank into a deep soft couch and propped her feet up on the nearby ottoman. She felt her skin tingle as all of the opened pores started to close. The attendant brought her a tall, cool glass of lemonade and left her to relax. Eloise slowly sipped the drink and closed her eyes to enjoy the total relaxation.
She felt the couch sift slightly and knew that someone else had joined her on it, but was too relaxed to bother opening her eyes. She took another sip of her drink.
“You look like you enjoyed your first wish.”
Eloise’s eyes sprung open at the sound of Paul’s voice. She turned her head and nearly choked at the sight of him, right next to her, dressed only in a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest was broad, muscular and tanned, with a sprinkling of hair that seemed to lead your eyes right down to where the towel started.
Eloise quickly averted her eyes from his chest, but found them looking at his long legs, also well-formed and tan, resting uncomfortably close to hers.
It was then she remembered she was only wearing what most people would consider a large towel. Immediately her hand moved to the top of the towel to secure it a little better. She could feel Paul’s grin.
She glanced up to meet his eyes and saw that she had been right.
“I thought this was the women’s section,” she explained, “I’m surprised to see you.”
Paul’s grin spread and he stretched his body, laying a strong arm on the top of the couch behind Eloise.
“Well, normally, you would be right, but I rented the entire hamman for us,” he said, “Did you enjoy yourself?”
She nodded and then smiled up at him.
“Yes, thank you, it was the most indulgent experience I have ever had,” she confessed, “I could really get used to it.”
“I’m glad,” he replied softly, “I hope this entire day is one indulgence after another.”
Then he suddenly stood up and offered her his hands. “Come on, we have a lot to experience today.”
She took his hands and he pulled her up to
him. Still holding both of her hands in his; he paused for a moment, looking at her freshly scrubbed body wrapped in the pestemal. “Did I mention that you looked delectable?” he whispered, and leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
It felt like a butterfly’s wing on her lips and was over before she could react.
Then he stepped back and let go of her hands.
“I’ll meet you in the front lobby,” he said and walked down another corridor.
Eloise turned to find her attendant waiting for her.
“Come, you dress now,” she said.
Eloise followed the attendant to the dressing room and changed back into her shorts and t-shirt. She reapplied her make-up and brushed out her hair until it fell in soft waves over her shoulders.
Feeling a little self-conscious, she stepped hesitantly into the lobby. Paul was waiting for her with a smile on his face. “Your genie awaits your next wish.”
She grinned. “How about something to eat?” she asked.
Paul nodded and tried to look serious. “A very wise choice, my lady.”
They walked back out to the car and he drove them to an open air café where he ordered an assortment of Turkish delicacies. There were dolmas, a combination of sautéed rice, pinenuts, currants, spices and herbs tightly wrapped in translucent cabbage leaves, that were surprisingly delicious. There was a spicy lamb kabob and a Turkish pasta with yoghurt. There was an assortment of fruits and cheeses and finally, when Eloise knew that she had eaten more than she should, Paul ordered a piece of baklava – a dessert that consisted of layers of paper-thin pastry sheets brushed with butter and filled with ground pistachios and drenched in honey.
When the plate containing the baklava was placed before them, Eloise shook her head. “I can’t eat another bite.”
“You don’t eat baklava, it melts in your mouth,” Paul insisted.
He took the dessert fork, cut off a corner of the pastry and lifted it to Eloise’s mouth. She opened her mouth and took the pastry into her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure at the sweet taste. She sighed.
“Oh, that is so good,” she said, running her tongue over her lips to lick away the syrup that remained.
She opened her eyes to see Paul staring at her. She panicked. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
Paul shook his head and swallowed. “No,” he answered, his voice slightly hoarse, “I just realized that I am not hungry for food any longer.”
Eloise shook her head in confusion. “But don’t you want any more baklava?” she asked.
“No,” answered Paul very definitely, “I think I’ve had as much as I can take.”
Then he paid the check and took her hand. “Come on, let’s leave the car in the lot,” he said, “There are places we can only explore on foot.”
He took her through the bright bazaars lining the streets of Istanbul. Everything from spices, to clothing, to jewelry was sold there. Eloise bought a lovely bright fringed shawl for a woman who had lost her family. They both bought a number of trinkets for some of the children in Izmet. Burdened with bags and parcels, they returned to the car hours later exhausted, but happy.
“There’s one more place I want you to see,” Paul said as he drove to a place on the western shore that overlooked the city.
He took a blanket and a small pack from the back of the car and the walked up a small hill. Paul laid the blanket under a tree and they sat down. He leaned back against the tree and placed his arm around Eloise’s shoulders, drawing her close to him. Then he pointed out over the hill, to the city beyond and said, “Watch the magic.”
Eloise leaned back against Paul and watched in awe as the sun set behind the ancient city. The sky glowed red and the palaces were burnished gold in the distance. The beauty of the scene was overwhelming.
“It is magic,” she whispered, a single tear drifting down her cheek.
Paul turned her to him and wiped the tear trail with his finger. “You are magic,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him and lowering his lips to hers.
This time the kiss was not soft, this time it was hungry and urgent. This time, as Paul angled his mouth and deepened the kiss, it sent tremors through Eloise that she had never experienced before. This time it made her feel things she had never felt and want things that she had never wanted.
She lifted her hands to his shoulders, wound her arms around his neck, and buried her fingers in his hair. He carried her with him and suddenly they were lying across the blanket, his mouth urgent, and his arms holding her tightly. Eloise was overwhelmed with emotion. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold it all in. She wanted to laugh and cry and shout. She felt afraid and indestructible at the same time. She moaned softly as his lips left her mouth and he trailed a path of kisses down her cheek and onto her neck. She opened her eyes slowly and all emotion froze. She gasped.
There, standing just beyond the blanket, was a man with a spear thrust though his chest. She watched as the blood dripped from the gaping wound and stained the blanket. Looking around, she could see an entire bloodied battalion standing around the blanket, their eyes mirroring the horror of war and their bodies showing the cruelty that had been inflicted on each man. Some with cavernous wounds, some stood headless with blood streaming from their severed necks, and some, only boys, stared at her in pain - mortal wounds in their heads and necks. She recoiled in horror.
“No, no,” she gasped.
“Eloise, what’s wrong?” Paul cried, moving to shield her from whatever had frightened her. He looked around the top of the hill and saw nothing. He turned and saw her eyes transfixed on a spot just beyond their blanket.
He grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Tell me,” he insisted. “Tell me what you see.”
Eloise took a deep breath and looked at the gray faces of death before her. “A battalion, perhaps Centurions, they have been defeated, massacred, brutally killed. They are in such pain, such awful pain.”
“Can you help them, like you help the others?” he asked.
Eloise shook her head and sobbed. “No, it’s been too long; they’re attached to this spot now. There’s nothing I can do.”
She shivered and rubbed her arms and then watched as they slowly faded from her sight. “They’re gone now,” she said.
Paul tried to gather her in his arms to comfort her, but she pulled away.
She turned away from him. “Paul, I can’t,” she said sadly, “Please.”
Wordlessly Paul stood up and helped Eloise to her feet, he gathered the blanket and pack and they walked to the car.
Once in the car, Paul turned to Eloise.
“I want to understand what happened out there,” he said.
Eloise turned toward him, but moved back so she was leaning against the car door. “I don’t know, it’s never happened to me before,” she said, “Usually I sense the spirits I need to help before I see them. I can feel their sorrow, sometimes even their pain. But this time, it was like their pain, their sorrow, their hopelessness ripped right in to my soul.”
“Before, when you’ve been with other men, has this ever happened?”
Eloise turned, bowed her head and looked down to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “I’ve never…” she began.
“Never had this problem with other men?” Paul continued, “So, it’s something about me.”
Eloise looked up and shook her head. “No, I’ve never been with other men before,” she exclaimed.
Embarrassed, she turned away from him towards the door, tears of mortification streaming down her cheeks.
Strong hands closed over her shoulders and turned her to face him. He swore softly, pulled out a tissue and wiped the tears away.
“Okay, you’re telling me that the entire male population of Wisconsin is blind?” he asked gently.
She smiled through the tears and shook her head. “Remember, I’m the nerd girl who can see dead people,” she answered, “Not a fun date.”
He brush
ed her hair back from her face with gentle hands. “So, all that happened today was pretty new for you?”
She nodded. “And pretty emotionally overwhelming,” she added.
He nodded and moved forward to kiss her. Acting on instinct, her eyes widened in fear and she jumped back against the door. Paul immediately pulled away. He gazed at her for a moment, turned and looked forward. He clasped his hands on the steering wheel and bowed his head for a moment. Then, without turning to look at her, he turned the key, placed the car in drive and drove home in silence.
When they arrived back at the base camp, she thanked him for the day. He smiled and nodded politely. And they walked out of each other’s lives.
Chapter Nine
“Sally, you’re right,” Eloise finally said, “The only way we are all going to get any kind of rest is for me to sleep in the safety of Paul’s arms.”
Paul turned to her and shook his head.
“No, Eloise, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or be in danger. I can stay up.”
Sally turned to Paul. “So what happens when you finally have to fall asleep, who protects her then? You’re both going to have to get some sleep – if you can manage it within each other’s arms – then it’s a win-win situation.”
Sally yawned and stretched. “You two figure it out, I’m going to bed,” she said, “If you need me, just wake me up.”
She walked down the hall and they heard the door to her room close.
Paul knelt in front of the chair. “Okay, what do you want to do? Really?”
Eloise pondered it for a moment and then smiled down at Paul. “We’re both tired, let’s get some sleep.”
She stood up and he followed her down the hall to her bedroom. Eloise washed up first, changing into a baggy pair of sweats and oversized t-shirt. She sat on the bed and waited for Paul to finish in the bathroom. He came out wearing a low slung pair of pajama pants and no shirt. His body was just as she remembered it at the Turkish Bath. Even after six years, he hadn’t changed.
Eloise shook her head. “You have to have a shirt on,” she said, “No compromise.”
