The Tenth Song

by Ragen, Naomi

  “You shouldn’t have driven straight after the flight! Especially here! You could have fallen asleep at the wheel; something could have happened to you, God forbid!” She felt a horrifying surge of guilt and terror as various tragic scenarios flashed with lightning speed through her mind.

  He put down the bottle and took her in his arms. “Would you have cared?” he whispered.

  “Seth . . .” She lowered her eyes, wondering how she really felt, which was by no means simple or clear but a muddled combination of feelings. She could make out surprise most of all, and a streak of trouble and complication, and yes, a bright yellow tinge of happiness. In the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night, at the beginning of an odd and perhaps painful quest to discover the world might just be about to end, here was a familiar face from home representing sanity, and ease, and practicality. A fallback position.

  She leaned forward, hugging him. “It’s good to see you, Seth.”

  He hugged her back, then separated, his lips seeking affirmation and familiarity in hers, but she pulled back. “Please . . .”

  “Yes, all right. I respect that you’re confused. But I’m not . . .” Then he drew upon the words he had practiced all through the flight as he imagined this moment, saying them by rote: “I love you. I want you back. That’s why I’m here.”

  “After everything I’ve done? The way I’ve treated you?”

  He didn’t respond from the gut. The important thing now, he told himself, was not to hash out the truth. That would come later. What was important now was to accomplish the task he had set for himself any way he could. He swallowed hard. “I’m not exactly putting up my candidacy for sainthood either. I also did horrible things. I abandoned you when you needed me most. I put other considerations in front of our love for each other. I’d do anything if I could turn back time, Kayla. It’s not too late. Is it?”

  She had never seen him so vulnerable and uncertain. It was unnerving. “Why didn’t tell me you were coming?”

  He shrugged. “Why didn’t you call me before you left?”

  She fidgeted with the straps of her backpack. She hated to have to answer such a valid question. “I could say because I was angry and confused. And that wouldn’t be a lie. But it wouldn’t be the whole truth either. The truth is, I didn’t call because I believed you were part of a world I didn’t want to be part of anymore.”

  He was stunned. That, of all things, had never occurred to him. “And what do you think now?”

  “I think that I’m exactly where I should be for now. I think that you shouldn’t have come.”

  He felt as if she’d reached out and slapped him.

  “Well, I don’t happen to agree with you. And neither does your father. This is just killing him, by the way, in case you need a reminder.”

  Her lips tightened. “NO, no. You don’t get to use the guilt card on behalf of my parents! Not you who told me that I—we—had to ‘distance ourselves.’ Remember that?” She felt some of the goodwill he’d earned with his bloodshot eyes and perspiration stains dissipate.

  “Listen, it was your father who called me, begging me to come and rescue you!”

  “My dad told you to come?”

  He nodded. “I’ve grown really close to your father over the past few weeks. I care about him. And I care about you. That’s why I’m here. Not to pass judgment.”

  She softened. “How is my dad?”

  “He’s been through hell. And he is all alone. I tried. I’ve been over there often, telling him the things you wanted me to tell him. But he needs you and your mother.”

  “Seth, I don’t know how to thank you! It . . . was so good of you to get involved. I’m so grateful . . .”

  He took her in his arms impulsively. “Come home, Kayla,” he said simply. “All of this will soon be over. Your father will be exonerated. I’m sure of it. I’ve rented a car. A Subaru with plenty of trunk space. There’s enough room for you and your mother. We’ll drive to the airport in the morning and get the next plane out of here. You can be with your father for Friday night dinner. We can have the engagement party in two weeks, with an announcement in the paper—and my parents can just go to hell if they don’t like it . . . As for school, you can start again next year. So it will take you a little longer to earn your degree. There will still be plenty of firms still hiring.”

  Voices grew closer.

  “Kayla, we are just about to . . . Oh.” Daniel stood still, his eyes flicking in confusion from Kayla to Seth.

  “Daniel, this is Seth; Seth, Daniel,” she said breathlessly.

  The two men nodded at each other, staring like boxers waiting for the starting bell. Daniel took in the tall young man’s clothing, the good cut of his hair. He had the clean-shaven look of the prosperous, judgmental Americans who travel the world simply to reassure themselves they couldn’t live anywhere else, Daniel thought, particularly places where natives don’t speak English and have less-than-pristine bathrooms. Was this the man Kayla loved? Still loved? And what did that say about her? And where did that leave him?

  Seth stared back. Here he was, the “someone” Kayla’s father mentioned. He put out his hand. “Shalom, Daniel. Ma nishmah?” he said forcefully, his handshake firm and committed.

  “I speak perfectly good English,” Daniel replied, smiling. He would have liked Seth more if he hadn’t smiled so brightly, hadn’t offered his hand. He would have respected a fist flying, an angry shout, something primal and real. All this phony gentlemanly civility was a bit nauseating to him. “So, you’ve come to take your fiancée back home?” Daniel said, looking questioningly at Kayla, who looked away, mortified.

  “That’s the general idea.” Seth nodded cheerfully.

  “And your fiancée, she is ready to go home?” The question was directed at Kayla, who said nothing. “By the way, Kayla, your mother is looking for you.”

  “Could you ask her to come in here please, Daniel?”

  He nodded, turning around to leave, when Abigail burst in.

  “Oh, there you are. Are you ready? Because people are beginning to move out . . .”

  “Mom, look who’s here.”

  Abigail turned, squinting in the dim light. She stood stock-still, doing a double take, something elaborate and theatrical like an actor in a situation comedy. “It’s not my imagination, is it?” she asked Kayla, who shook her head. “Seth, is that really you?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Samuels, it’s me. Regards from your husband.”

  “OH!” Abigail sat down on Kayla’s mattress, hugging herself. She looked up: “What are you doing here?”

  “He’s come to take us to the airport, Mom. He’s rented a car. A Subaru. With plenty of trunk space. Dad sent him.”

  Abigail looked up. “But we can’t go. Not now. Everyone is leaving with Rav Natan. You are still coming, aren’t you, Kayla?”

  Kayla didn’t move.

  “Well, I’m going. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Abigail reached out to Daniel. “Here, give me a hand.”

  Daniel pulled her up gently.

  “Good-bye, Seth.” Her voice was curt and cold. Adam had sent him, to force her into doing his bidding, she thought resentfully. As if she were a child. All she had told him had meant nothing.

  “Mrs. Samuels, Abigail . . .” Seth called after her, but she was too fast for him, disappearing into the night.

  Kayla adjusted the straps of her backpack. “I’m going, too.”

  “Now, in the middle of the night? To where?” Seth protested.

  “There’s been this incredible archaeological find. Some say a book of prophecy. I can’t explain it to you, Seth. You’ll just sneer. But I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know. A few days.”

  He got up. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re exhausted.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not dressed for the desert.”
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  “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not after I’ve found you.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” she said softly. She filled up two more bottles with water. “Here. Take these. Do you have a backpack, a hat, some warmer clothes, a sleeping bag? Some shorts?”

  “I’ve got some stuff in the car. I’ll go get it and meet you back here.”

  Kayla nodded, about to tell him to hurry, but thought better of it. He’d come so far, all for her. The least she could do was wait patiently for him for a few more minutes.

  She walked outside and looked at the gathering crowds: women in long, flowing skirts and head scarves, or shorts and jeans; men in knitted white skullcaps or baseball caps. They were an odd bunch of pilgrims, not at all as she envisioned the Israelites embarking on their epochal journey from one existence to another. Yet, like that ancient desert tribe, the desert would also be the medium that washed them clean of their old lives, preparing them to absorb the demands of the new era ahead of them.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Would Seth’s presence allow her to be part of the group, or force her to look at them through his outsider’s vision? Would the force of habit, the long-established patterns of her old self, reassert themselves to reclaim her, demolishing her fragile new knowledge of the world and her place in it? And what of Daniel? Was their connection as tenuous as it was new? Would it, too, be unable to withstand the threat of serious inquiry into what was real and what was transitory?

  She stepped out onto the long, moonlit path that led to the edge of the inhabited space she had come to know and be part of. Someone was already opening the locks on the iron gate that separated them from the wilderness. People began flowing through it, down to the path that led through the unexplored mountains and valleys.

  “Ready?” It was Seth. He wore jeans now, and a warm jacket, a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

  Slowly, they joined the human stream, floating out into the unknown.

  29

  They walked slowly at first, like water slowly spreading out on the ground from an overturned bucket. There didn’t seem to be any urgency, and were an observer to have come upon them unawares, he would have judged them a group of strangers who had paid an indifferent guide from the Society for the Protection of Nature for a night excursion to explore exotic desert flora and fauna. The moonlight cut a swathe like a magical yellow-brick road through the dark shadows of high mountains, the water-cut wadis, the flinty ground. They wandered through a dreamy moonscape punctuated by dark tufts of flora, and even, surprisingly, an occasional tree. The hard, jutting rocks hurt their soles, tripping them up, and small, painful gravel wedged inside the sandals of those who had been foolish enough to wear them. But the cool night air smelled like it had been washed clean with ice water, scented by night-flowering plants. Tiny creatures scuttled frantically across their paths, burrowing into the earth. A mountain goat stood still, waiting.

  “I somehow thought the desert would be sandy, like the beach,” Seth said.

  “The little rainfall we do get here goes a long way,” Daniel replied.

  “You are . . . an archaeologist?” Seth turned, studying him.

  “No . . . that’s just a job . . .”

  “Did you go to college?”

  Daniel nodded, offering nothing more.

  “What did you study?”

  “Many things, some more useful than others.”

  “I see.” Seth shrugged, too weary to pull the information out of him with any more polite questions. “So you’re an unskilled laborer?”

  Daniel smiled. “I’d agree with that. ‘Unskilled.’ A good word.”

  “Well, in America, we don’t think much of that word or the people it describes. Mostly high-school dropouts, illegal immigrants. Americans are very big on education, professions. You know that Kayla has almost finished her law degree at Harvard?”

  “She told me all about it. All about you, too.”

  Seth stiffened. “Is that so? And what did she say?”

  “Oh, I think you’d better ask her that yourself. It was a private conversation. I don’t think she’d appreciate my gossiping like an old lady. I’m not big on gossip.”

  “Well, I’m very big on gossip. You learn the most interesting and useful things from the casual way people shoot their mouths off. But I suppose you’re right. It is between me and my fiancée.”

  “So, you still want to marry her, even though she is doing unskilled labor?” Daniel smiled.

  Seth straightened. “She’s a bit confused right now, but she has a brilliant future ahead of her as soon as I can extract her from all of this.” He waved his arms, his voice heavy with disgust.

  “And what if you were to find out that she isn’t confused, Seth? That she knows exactly what it is she wants? What if you were to find out that you are the one who is confused?” He spoke softly, with no anger, in a tone that was respectful and mildly amused.

  It was that tone, more than the words, that infuriated Seth. “Now you listen to me, Mr. Mud-Digger. I have known Kayla Samuels for a long time. She is still wearing my engagement ring. I don’t know what kind of brainwashing has gone on here for the past few months, but make no mistake, I’m a man who gets what he wants, and I’m not leaving here without her.”

  “I’m so glad life has smiled on you that way, Seth. Not many of us get what we want most of the time. But—and I mean no disrespect—I don’t think that decision is up to you, Seth. I think that decision is up to Kayla. And, by the way, the last time I looked, she wasn’t wearing any rings at all.”

  Seth’s face turned red, matching his bloodshot eyes. He looked around for Kayla. She was walking ahead of him, talking softly to a woman in a bright orange dress.

  He grabbed her elbow. “Kayla, can I just talk to you for a moment?” He steered her to a private spot behind a rock. Then he reached out and took both her hands, staring at them in the moonlight. The nails were chipped and the skin coarse and tanned. She wore no rings.

  “Kayla, your ring!”

  “Don’t worry, Seth. I didn’t lose it, and it wasn’t stolen.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about! Why have you taken it off?”

  “It wouldn’t have been too smart to keep it on during all this digging,” she tried, smiling. “It’s in a safe place. Don’t worry.”

  He held her hands, caressing them. “Was there any other reason, Kayla?”

  She didn’t want to lie. She didn’t want to tell the truth. She wanted to walk toward the unknown in this strange place with peace of mind, readying herself for the future, however difficult or shocking it might be. She wanted to gather her resources, not dissipate them by fighting random battles on all fronts. She had decisions to make, and did not want to be forced into them before she was ready.

  “Seth, I’m not ready to talk about this now. You are also exhausted. Let’s talk after we’ve both had a few hours’ sleep.”

  “I think the answer shouldn’t require that much thinking,” Seth pressed, realizing it was unwise yet unable to stop himself.

  “Well, if you must know right this minute, I took it off because I’d decided to send it back to you,” Kayla blurted out. “That’s the truth. I wanted some time to reconsider before I told you now, but since you insist on knowing, there it is!” She was upset with him, and with herself, her feelings raw.

  He had had no experience with this kind of rejection. All his life he had been a winner, used to people choosing him. He felt demeaned, insulted, humbled. But was it his heart that was hurt, he asked himself, or his vanity?

  “Is it because of him, that Daniel? That unskilled laborer?” he spit out, furious.

  “Daniel, unskilled?” she repeated, confused.

  “Yes, your Israeli mud-digger . . . !”

  “Who told you this about him?”

  “He did, himself!”

  Her response was the very last thing he expected: She laughed.

  “Yes, I suppose it is pretty ludicro
us: a Harvard Law School student and an unskilled Israeli workman. But if you are planning to throw your life away on him, I don’t see the humor in it.”

  “Not that it matters Seth, but he’s a doctor. A surgeon.”

  “But, he said . . .”

  “He’s got a strange sense of humor, and no ego.”

  “I suggest you check out his diplomas first and not accept everything he tells you blindly since he seems to change his story depending on his audience. Besides, if it’s true, then what is he doing out here with a shovel?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Right. I bet,” he sneered. Why would someone hide his accomplishments? Especially in a debate with a rival? It was incomprehensible to Seth.

  “Is there a problem?” It was Daniel. He put his arm around Kayla.

  “Yes, she wants to see your medical diplomas!” Seth seethed. “And take your hands off her!” He lifted Daniel’s arm roughly off Kayla’s shoulder, flinging it backward.

  “Seth, stop! What’s the matter with you? Daniel, it’s not true! I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me!” But even as she said it, she wondered what the truth really was. Would it matter to her if she discovered Daniel really was just an unskilled laborer? Yes, because it would mean that he’d lied to her. But what if he had never told her about his medical degrees? Would she still feel the same way about him? Or was she still stuck in the status consciousness of her upbringing? Was she still the same old Kayla, simply trading in a lawyer for a doctor?

  Slowly, deliberately, Daniel once again put his arm around Kayla. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, patting his hand and lifting it gently off her shoulder. “I just don’t want any trouble. I just want to get through this, Daniel.”

  He nodded, putting his hands into his pockets and strolling away. He began to whistle slowly under his breath. The people in front of him heard it, and they too began to whistle. Suddenly someone broke out in song:

  Ashira l’Hashem b’chayai

  Azamra ’Elokai b’yodi

  Ye’erav alav sichi