Waving his hands frantically, Michael said, “The cloth . . . the cloth . . . your shirt . . . it was him . . . it’s Marcus!” Michael recognized his deep, booming voice and the piece of Elizabeth’s white shirt dangling from the back of his helmet.
“What soldier? What cloth? What are you talking about? Tell me, Dad. Tell me!”
“He took a piece of your shirt.”
Elizabeth looked at her long shirt. “So?”
Michael grabbed Elizabeth’s hand with force and pulled her back toward Leah. “We need your help.”
“I know,” she said impatiently. “Come quickly.”
Michael looked over at Elizabeth, who gave him an icy stare.
“Tell me!”
“Not now. We’ll talk later.”
Leah led the way purposefully through the maze of streets. “Stay close. We have to keep out of sight. The soldiers are everywhere.”
As if on cue, two Roman soldiers strolled off a side street and headed in their direction. Leah pulled Michael and Elizabeth into a deserted, covered doorway. They pressed against the concrete wall as the soldiers strolled past. “I wonder if Marcus will get his prize soon,” snickered one soldier.
“He thinks he’ll get his prize tonight,” said the other.
When the street was quiet again, Leah turned toward Michael.
“Why did you return to this town again? What is it that you want?”
Michael looked at her, confused. “I don’t understand. I told you we just want to get home. Believe me, I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”
Leah stared at him for a moment. “Do you want to be killed? These soldiers would love to kill you. You have to listen to me if you want to stay alive.”
Michael glared at her in disbelief. “Why are there so many of them here?”
“Passover is coming, and with everyone in town for the festivities, they have come in force. But don’t think that they will forget you were imprisoned with Barabbas. Now do you understand? If you love your daughter, you will listen to me.”
Michael nodded. “Marcus was so nice to me. I thought I could trust him.”
“You can’t trust any Roman soldier. What did he say to you on the street?”
“He made some reference that he wanted to make my daughter his. I think I know what he means. But she’s only fourteen. I didn’t want to believe it. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Leah slowly turned toward him. “Is that what he said?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes.”
“We need to move quickly and get back to my home.”
“But we have to get back to the tunnel,” Michael said. “It’s where we came from.”
“You need to come back to my house. I can give you some of the robes I wove to sell at market. In them you won’t draw so much attention to yourself. Then maybe you will be able to get home safely. But right now, it is too dangerous.”
“Hey, look, no offense, but I only know your name,” Michael said with annoyance. “Why should we trust you?”
The woman took a few steps closer, studying him.
“How could you say that? You were so kind and caring to me in my time of need. I am doing the same for you.”
Michael shook his head. “I . . . I . . . really don’t know . . .”
“So, you don’t remember? You must be careful with the friends you keep. I thought you would have known that by now.”
Michael could only stare. Why did she seem to know him?
Leah led them in and out of side streets, the roads narrow and the air thick with dust. Some doorways were empty, others filled with people, their eyes roaming without any recognition. Michael noticed with a sinking feeling that Leah was leading them farther and farther from the tunnel, and the knowledge filled him with despair. He felt nearly paralyzed as she kept up a furious pace for what felt like an eternity.
Leah dropped Elizabeth’s hand to straighten her veil and said, “We’re almost there,” smiling to reassure them. Her tone was more relaxed now that they had covered some distance. Leah reached again for Elizabeth’s hand and gave it a little shake.
Elizabeth glanced down but remained silent.
Leah squeezed her hand more tightly. “You’re scared. That’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot today. We can rest, and I will get you something to eat and drink.”
They turned off the road and through a front gate into a courtyard. A fig tree stood at its center, and beyond that Michael could see a simple, two-story stone house. The bottom floor was open to the courtyard and had three small rooms that reminded Michael of stalls in a barn. A lamb stood in the first one behind a metal gate. The middle stall contained many baskets along its perimeter and a smoldering pit in the center of the floor. On the far end of the last stall, a door opened to the back of the house, where a wooden ladder led to the second floor.
Leah invited them upstairs. When he climbed the ladder, Michael found himself in a large room with a window looking down onto the courtyard below. A woolen mat lay on the floor with two large, round jugs, a small pottery cup, and a covered basket upon it. Behind him were stalls similar to those below, one of which contained another ladder, which led through a hole in the ceiling up onto the roof.
Elizabeth looked around in horror and disbelief. This was like nothing she had ever seen before. There were very few furnishings, and no curtains or doors. Leah walked over to the covered basket and knelt, removing some bread from inside. She inverted the top of the basket and placed it in the center of the mat, making a simple platter. She tore the bread and placed several pieces in front of them.
“Sit, please. I’ll be right back.”
They watched Leah climb down the ladder before shrugging their shoulders at each other and sitting down on the mat.
“Dad, what’s going on? We should get out of here,” Elizabeth whispered.
Michael put two fingers over his lips. “Shh, she’ll hear us.”
“I don’t care,” Elizabeth said, her voice growing louder.
“Well, I do. She has been very helpful to us, and I think we need to listen to this woman.”
“But can she help us get home?”
“I certainly hope so.”
Leah returned, placing on the mat before them a tray containing two cups along with bowls of what looked like goat cheese, olives, and green onions. “Please, eat. You are my guests and I have plenty here. Take some.”
Elizabeth tried to hide her distress. “I’m really not interested. I’m sorry.”
Michael looked up from the food and directly into Leah’s eyes. “Can you help us get back?”
“Get back where?”
“To Northport.”
Leah shook her head. “I don’t know where that is.”
“It’s on Long Island.”
Leah looked puzzled.
“We need to get back to that street where we saw that soldier.”
“That is much too dangerous right now. You can go if you like, but you would risk your daughter’s safety.”
Leah offered the food again. “Please, have something to eat.”
Michael and Elizabeth tore at the bread.
“Let me give you something to drink.” Leah poured wine into one of the cups, thinned it with water from the other jug, and handed it to Michael.
“Elizabeth, would you like some?” she asked, pouring a second cup.
“Excuse me?” Michael interjected.
“Your daughter is thirsty. Let me give her some wine, too.”
“Really?” Elizabeth looked interested.
“Of course, you are my guest.”
“Cool!”
“Not cool,” Michael countered. “My daughter is too young to drink.”
“Your daughter is old enough to get married,” Leah said, glancing at Michael with a perplexed look. “How could she be too young to drink wine?”
“What? Me? Married?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.
“My daughter is only fourteen. She has a long
time before she gets married. She hasn’t even kissed a boy. Right, Liz?”
Elizabeth made a face. “Liz won’t comment.”
“Elizabeth?” said Leah as she offered a cup of wine.
Elizabeth looked over at her dad, who quickly shook his head. “No, thanks,” she said, before muttering in his direction, “Fun killer.”
Michael strummed his finger over the bridge of his thumb, mimicking the action of a bow over the strings of a violin. “She can have water.”
Elizabeth smirked and rolled her eyes.
Michael took a sip from his cup. The wine was sweet but he was so thirsty he downed it quickly.
“You are still thirsty?” Leah asked.
Michael nodded. “I’ll just take water this time, please.”
She poured him a cup, and again he drank it quickly. Leah smiled.
Michael noticed his daughter giving him a look. “Elizabeth, are you okay?”
“Can we go now, Dad?”
“You mustn’t,” Leah insisted. “It’s unsafe out there. The festivities will start this week and the soldiers are everywhere. Please consider staying until the morning.”
Michael looked outside. It was awfully dark. What if we get caught? He might not be so lucky to get out the next time. He contemplated which was more dangerous: staying here in the house of a strange woman or trying to get back tonight.
Elizabeth began rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her lips. His decision was made. I’m right with you, kid, I’m exhausted.
“Okay. We’ll spend the night. Thanks.”
Leah left the room and returned with what looked like a rough comforter. “Here, take this bedroll over there.” She handed it to Elizabeth and motioned to the small, open room on the right.
While Michael walked Elizabeth over to the little alcove, Leah cleaned up the remnants of the meal.
Elizabeth placed the bedroll on the wooden floor and lay down. “I’m scared,” she whispered to her father, “but I’m so tired.”
“I know,” Michael replied as he stroked the top of her head. “I’m with you, sweetie. Try to close your eyes and get some rest. We’ll leave in the morning.”
Elizabeth studied him for a moment. He looked worn. “Dad, what happened in the prison?”
He sighed deeply, wanting to spare her the details. “It was horrible. There were bodies chained everywhere. People were in pain and I couldn’t help them. They treated women like they were cattle. I’ll talk to you about it more when we get back.” He shook his head. “It was horrifying. Just terrible.”
She nodded sleepily. He could tell that the day’s events were having an effect. Michael slid down the wall and tried to find a comfortable position. He admired how easily she could sleep. He had slept like that once, too, back when Vicki was beside him.
His head rested against the textured wall as he closed his eyes, suddenly groggy. He had become a horrible sleeper since Vicki was gone, and this exhaustion surprised him. Most nights he struggled to fall asleep, his bedroom too confining to bring any peace. It was more like a shrine, a testament to a life he no longer led. His bed was always made. The living room couch became his only salvation.
Thank goodness it’s only ten minutes away. Michael was late again. He needed to get to the Northport High School gym to watch a basketball game. The team had one of the best players on Long Island and he had to write a story today for his readers.
As Michael turned out of their driveway, he caught a glimpse of Elizabeth’s cherubic little face giggling in the rearview mirror. She was singing along with Barney and his friends. Michael groaned inwardly. It had to be at least the hundredth time they were listening to that CD.
“Man, I’m not getting a break today,” he said under his breath.
He looked back into his mirror and noticed his eyes were red and blotchy. Maybe I’ll get two hours of sleep tonight, he thought. That is, if I can just stop worrying about her.
“Hey, Little Baboo. You know Daddy loves you, right? I’ll always take care of you, even if I don’t get any sleep.” He reached back and lovingly rubbed her knee through the bulky snowsuit.
By the time he had pulled into the high school parking lot, Elizabeth had fallen asleep.
“How does she do it?” he said in wonder.
After unbuckling her from the car seat, he gently placed her in the stroller, so as not to wake her, and rolled her into the gym. Instead of trying to carry her and the stroller up into the noisy stands, he found a quiet spot for them against the wall beyond the bleachers.
“Hey, Mike!” shouted his neighbor Jim Phillips. His son Brian was on the Northport basketball team.
Michael smiled. “Hey, Mr. Phillips!” He always called him mister out of respect. “How are you feeling these days? How’s the old ticker doing?”
Jim tapped at his chest twice in exuberance. “Doing well, thanks. How’s your daughter?”
“She’s finally asleep . . . thank goodness!”
Mr. Phillips laughed. “Good for you. You look tired. Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Michael said, a grin spreading across his face. “She gives me an hour or two off, here and there.”
Before long the game was under way and slowly dragging on. Michael could feel his legs straining to stay upright as he took his notes. When the third quarter began, his eyes kept blinking, so he splashed some water on his face from the fountain on the wall behind him. Instead of waking him, the water was soothing and his body began to relax.
Michael closed his eyes.
“Hey, fella! Watch what you’re doing!”
A sense of panic struck him as his head jerked upright and he tried to focus his weary eyes on the court. Looking around frantically to try to clear his head, he gasped, “Elizabeth?”
“Hey, buddy!” a man screamed. “Move!”
He felt Elizabeth pulling on the leg of his jeans. She wore a huge grin. Michael smiled down at her.
“Hey, Little Baboo.”
“Daddy!”
Michael looked over at the court and noticed that the basket no longer hung down but was now retracted up by the ceiling. All the players were just standing there on the court, and everyone in the crowd seemed to be staring at him. He suddenly realized with horror that he had accidentally leaned against the switch that elevated the basket.
“Oh, sorry,” he muttered. Sheepishly he pushed the button to lower the basket back into place. The crowd applauded appreciatively and some rowdy fans whistled. Elizabeth giggled.
Feeling like a total fool, Michael grabbed Elizabeth and the stroller and sprinted from the gym. Out in the parking lot, he didn’t know whether to cry from embarrassment or laugh as he packed Elizabeth back up in the car.
When he finally sat down behind the wheel, he turned around to look at her. She was strapped into her car seat, drinking apple juice. She waved the sippy cup in her hand and smiled.
Her happy face made his decision easy: he laughed.
We’ll do okay, he reasoned. Just two peas in a pod.
Michael shifted uncomfortably and a few hairs on his head were caught by the stucco wall. Startled, he pulled away quickly, heaving himself up onto his knees. Elizabeth was sprawled out on the floor in front of him, her breathing even and her body relaxed. The house was quiet, although he could hear Leah in the kitchen below. After watching Elizabeth for a moment to ensure she was asleep, he stood up, but realized he had no idea where to go.
He made one uncertain step from the small room they were in and took a moment to digest the view of the room before him. Had they really eaten on that mat on the floor, with foods he never considered laid out in grand fashion? He walked over to the window and glanced out into the night sky. When was the last time he had seen a tree like that, if ever? And why did he feel this overwhelming fatigue? Where were they? Before he was aware of it, he had begun to pace silently, his face skewed in concentration.
Leah returned from below, expertly pulling herself up the ladder
with a large bundle under her arm. She walked over to him, handed Michael a bedroll, and motioned to the roof. “It is warm out tonight, and the breeze should be pleasant. You will do well to make your sleeping quarters up there.”
“Up there?” Michael said with a pained expression. “Outside?”
“Yes, up there.” Leah looked at him with a sorrowful expression. As Michael turned to start up the ladder, he hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at Leah.
“You said you were concerned about soldiers being everywhere. I’m just really worried about that soldier who took a piece of my daughter’s clothing. He said he was going to make my daughter his. Don’t tell me that’s what I think it means.”
Leah was silent. Then she said, “The soldier is interested in taking her for his wife.”
“What?”
Leah placed her fingers over her lips and pointed toward where Elizabeth lay sleeping.
“Sorry,” Michael muttered.
“The soldier is interested in your daughter. It is customary for women at her age to marry and start families.”
Michael’s eyes widened in horror and he pointed roughly at her. “My little girl is not marrying anyone. She’s just a kid.”
“She is a grown woman. Enough time has passed for her to now find a husband.”
“What kind of a place is this that encourages fourteen-year-olds to get married?”
Leah, looking confused, shook her head in response.
“I’m sorry, I meant no offense. But this is really surreal.”
“This is what is expected,” Leah said, her voice raised. She paused for a moment, collecting herself. “You should know that by now,” she whispered.
Michael glared at her before his features softened. “I don’t know anything. Believe me, I don’t understand a thing about this place.” He shook his head in resignation before climbing farther up the ladder. “Either way, none of this is expected from me or my daughter. And definitely not . . . marriage.” The word tasted awful in his mouth.
Michael paused before looking at Leah curiously. “You know, I’ve been wondering something. Why did you take that risk and stand up for us in the courtyard?”
In the awkward silence, Michael readjusted the cumbersome bedroll under his arm as he watched her intently.
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