by Kurtz, Timna
“Connor!! Connor!! Connor!!” At once I was inside the boat. Lifting his motionless upper torso into my lap, holding him close to me, feeling how limp he was. His eyes, which once shattered my heart with their clear green color, were shut, and he was barely breathing.
“Connor, Connor! Wake up, Connor! You have to wake up. You have to live!!” I cried and wailed out loud. My heart torn from the fear that I was too late, but his body was warm. Therefore I kept hugging, and shaking him with the hope that he would wake up from his coma.
“No, no… this can’t be! This is not happening to me again…” I mumbled, sobbing and despaired.
People started gathering around the boat when they heard my cries, gazing with amazement at the spectacle, not understanding from where another person came.
No one knew what to do. Connor was unconscious, simply because he didn’t eat or drink for a long time. He was probably suffering from dehydration and malnutrition. I could feel how thin he was and that he had lost a great deal of weight—because I knew him so well. One of the three surviving men came up to me, and with a thick Arabic accent, unfolded their story before me.
“You to understand miss? He be our boss. Us to working for him in his plantations, and he like ‘abu’, a papa to all, like a king! That is why we call him ‘Neesher’ (an eagle in Arabic), he smart, good heart and always know to fly up over problems of Islam and ze world, like eagle. When problems start with water and rain he to take us to big boat—praise Allah, I never see a big boat like that, I not know sea too! He make big fight to put us on big boat together with him. He also hit some man not wanting us to go on boat because we are Arabic. Like that we was on big boat until it went down and he to find us little boat in last minute. He find little food too and give all of food to woman and little children! He say all ze time he is o.k. and not to worry. He to pass out only last night. Before he to he say: Ibrahim, take care of children! After he to pass out, he tell me in sleep: ‘woman on island, she to help me!’ this he say every little time…until we are to see smoke from fire here in morning. My name Ibrahim,” he introduced himself after excitingly telling us what they went through. “Now I to understand—you woman on island! Allah sent you to him. Allah to bring us boat here cause you to know him and help him live.”
There was a plea in Ibrahim’s dark eyes and an elated voice, knowing that I would do whatever I could to help Connor. There was no doubt that he had the utmost respect for Connor, and he expressed his feelings warmly. It came as no surprise to me. Connor was a fair and honest man and had hired many Arab workers to work in his plantations. Although he was one of the leading citrus growers in the country, and earned a lot more than he needed for his personal use and could afford a very high standard of living, he always kept a simple way of life, and resided in the countryside, somewhere in the mountains. He especially bonded with the workers who were nomads, as he especially cared for their culture. He felt as if he had a special spiritual bond with them, and learned their practical sense of living and their desert smarts together with the great respect they have for human beings, which was entwined in their way of life. As a descendent of a Middle Eastern family, he knew their language fluently as if it was his mother’s tongue.
“I promise you, Ibrahim, that I will do whatever I can to help him! I have been waiting for him for many days. In my dreams I saw a white eagle, with a clear penetrating gaze, arriving in a boat, wounded and pleading for help. I only hope that we’re not too late…” I whispered with concern.
“Help me…” I turned to my friends, signaling to them that we had to move Connor to a safer place where I could take care of him and monitor his condition.
The makeshift gurney justified its purpose yet again, and we carefully transferred Connor onto it and carried him into the dwelling cave. This move marked the end of our beach frenzy. We relocated the fire to a higher spot outside the cave, in an open space overlooking the sea, in case other survivors who were making their way in the wide open sea would see the fiery signal. We could not afford two fires, as we might deplete the stock of exposed trees on the island and it would take time before more trees were revealed.
The water levels were descending slowly again now that the storm had passed. According to the mark we planted on the beach, only a few centimeters had gone down in the last four days, since the storm sucked a great volume of water.
I placed Connor in the niche that was used by Eddie and me up until a few days ago. I wrapped his body in a warm blanket but to no use. By sunset, he was burning up with fever, and my plant extracts did not help since he was unconscious and couldn’t drink from the potions. Being in this state of coma for a long time with a very high fever, posed a clear threat to his life. I could try one last thing.
“We have to get him up to the sacred cave! Only the holy waters can help him now!” I urgently turned to Roan and Jack to assist me in carrying out this task.
“Grace, it’s late. Can’t we wait with this until tomorrow morning?” Jack resisted slightly. “He’s also a completely different weight than that of small Rebecca. It will be very difficult to climb up with him in a gurney. We will need lots of strong hands.” He piled on more hardships, counting the obstacles in our path.
“If you need—we carry! We to take our ‘Neesher’ to where lady tell us to!” Ibrahim interrupted the conversation, all excited, showing an endless loyalty to his employer.
“You love him very much. Right, Ibrahim?” I smiled at him tenderly, fully understanding the love he had for Connor. “I am sure that you will do anything for him, but don’t forget that you were in the boat for many days, with hardly any food or drink,” I reminded him of his physical condition.
“Jack! As the tribe’s guardian and protector, it is your duty to assist me in helping what or whoever we can—“ I turned to him aggressively— “and not to make my job any harder. Or maybe the green eyed monster has lifted its ugly head inside you? I wouldn’t want to think that now, that Eddie is out of the picture, you will be marking your territory around me. Now, go. Roan, Jack, Billy and anyone who is able to help—quickly! We don’t have much time. If we don’t get to the cave soon, this man might die tonight!” In my heart I knew, that if I lost Connor, my heart would not be able to withstand another loss of a loved one.
Although Connor was a person I knew in the old world, he marked anything and everything that was renewed and changed in me. He marked my future and all the good things that were about to come into my life thanks to the process and the internal change I had gone through in the past few years.
Again, I was leading a small convoy up the island, when all the men of the tribe were lending a hand and helping out. Connor wasn’t big or especially tall, but he had broad shoulders and a strong build.
When we arrived at the cave, I asked everyone to leave Connor and me by ourselves and to only send up some food for me so I could spend the night in the cave with Connor. The men turned to leave, leaving Connor where I showed them to.
Jack was last to leave, and he had a concerned look on his face. I knew he would return here to bring me food and even stay close by— not only because he had the need to guard and protect me. With his keen senses, he realized what Connor meant to me, and that I was very close to him. He just didn’t know how much…
* * *
Chapter 28
When I was left alone in the cave with Connor, I started acting quickly.
At my request, the men lay him close to the stone altar basin. I couldn’t dip him in the water since he was unconscious and there was a risk of him drowning. I took off his clothes, and then I took the blanket that we used to wrap him in and submerged it in the holy waters.
The blanket soaked the water and was almost too heavy for me, but I didn’t give up. Determined, I struggled with the wet cloth, dragging it from the basin and onto his naked body, bringing the healing holy water to his bare skin. With a makeshift wooden bowl, I poured and watered the blanket, making sure it stayed wet.
/> I ran back and forth from the basin to Connor and back to the basin, wetting and soaking, moisturizing his dry, chapped lips, inserting little drops of water into his mouth, and gently washing his fainted face—his wide forehead, thick eyebrows, his strong kind features that gave him the look of generosity and respect. I caressed him with my wet hands, mumbling a prayer, repeating the same mantra again and again.
As I predicted, just before nightfall, Jack appeared in the cave, bringing with him the aroma of grilled appetizing fish, which I ate with a great deal of hunger, suddenly aware of how much energy I had used.
The fresh warm food immediately made me stronger and replenished the necessary energy. Jack also brought a big candle with him to light up the cave for me so I could continue my work in the dark.
The same noble and familiar expression was on his face again. He probably realized that he had overstepped his boundaries and crossed a line I did not allow him to cross. I was glad to see that he had respected my words and came to his senses. I thanked him warmly kissing his lips gently and lovingly.
“You will always be my blue eagle and no white eagle will change that!” I smiled, implying that his rightful place is reserved in my heart forever.
“I will be outside if you need me,” he stroked my face, but his gaze was distant. His thoughts were troubled, probably, due to the strange man that had arrived from nowhere at once commanding all of my attention.
He remembered and understood well the meaning of the symbols in my dream, and he knew just as I did, why the white eagle was so important to me.
Jack went out, and I returned to check on Connor. In the light of the candle, I was already able to see the change for the better: his cheeks were now rosy, his face lightly flushed, his nostrils widened as he returned to breathe normally. Now he looked like someone sleeping comfortably and not passed out helpless as he was.
I stroked his curls gently. Once, I used to passionately grab his curls by the handful, but now I only ran my fingers gently through them, trying not to tug on his hair.
I leaned to kiss his forehead, feeling that his fever miraculously broke. The holy waters were doing their job. I waited another long hour, making sure his fever did not spike again, and I took off the blanket. Now, that the fever had broken, I couldn’t leave him wet. God forbid he could catch a cold, rendering all my work futile. I wrapped him, with a different blanket, dry and warm, and I spread the wet one on a rock to dry overnight.
I kept moisturizing his lips every few minutes and smiled a wide smile when his mouth started moving in reaction to the water. I filled my bowl with holy water so I would not have to go back and forth so much, adjusted my seating posture, placing his head on my thighs. By now he was asking me for water, his lips smacking, vaguely looking for the wetness of the water. I continuously kept dripping water on his lips. Every once in a while, his tongue popped out to lightly lick the drops, touching the tips of my fingers, sending intense vibes down my back and pleasant cramps in my lower abdomen. Memories came flooding back before my eyes, reawakening my love and passion for this man that his presence in my life had given me one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned. When he recovered a little more, I placed the bowl at his mouth and he took long sips of water before laying his head back with exhaustion. “Connor? Connor?” I tried to get his attention, but aside from some meaningless mumbles, he was still in a state of faint. It looked like he wasn’t even aware of my presence.
When my body succumbed to fatigue as well, I lay at Connor’s side, wrapping myself around him—to keep him warm and to transfer my healing power with the touch of my loving body.
I remembered how he used to take me in his arms, hugging me for the sweetest sleep I had. In his embrace, I slept better and much more comfortable than with any other hug—and yet, even in my sleep, I was completely aware of his body and touch. Our fingers were always intertwined, and more than once when I would try to slightly release my limbs, he would instantly feel the movement and pin me to him again, making sure our fingers stay intertwined.
I lay my head close to his, releasing a sigh of relief from the bottom of my heart—the white eagle is saved! As my eyes were shutting down, giving in to the drowsing warmth that had come over me, I couldn’t help but think of Jack, spending the night outside on his own, ready to jump at my call, but also very afraid for his place at my side.
Another concern was troubling me: Is it possible that the long hours that Connor was unconscious without food or drink caused more damage than what we could see? But when I dived into a deep slumber, it was the past that came to haunt me and made me sad more than anything else. Would Connor be able to erase the past? Or when he comes to and feels better, the spirits and demons that had separated us before would resurface, like at that time after a magical summer and at the beginning of a sad and very lonely winter…
In an early morning hour, I sent Jack to bring me more food.
If Connor did not regain his consciousness or wake up soon, I would have no other choice but to force feed him. I already imagined myself chewing up his food, sliding it into his throat, like a bird feeding its chicks. But this was not something I was looking forward to.
As I continued to pray and wet his lips with holy water, Jack came into the cave together with Ibrahim and another man, younger, who had been on the boat with them—Hassan was his name. Ibrahim leaned to Connor with worry but smiled when he heard that his condition had improved a great deal during the night. “Allah give you gift like witch in hands,” Ibrahim congratulated me with sparkling eyes. “I remember one time, Connor tell me, before much water, of special woman he to know, and love big, but he afraid of her, because she like witch. He to tell me, she have magic in her hands, and she to read him with eyes like book!! Like this he tell me, and I tell him, not to be afraid if she to love him too. One day he tell me it over and he to be much sad and angry, but no talk about witch woman again. Now I to think that witch lady is you and Allah watch over you for him. You to go rest now. Me and Hassan will look to our ‘Neesher’. ‘Shukran, Shukran, Ya Chabibti*! (Thank you, thank you, my love, in Arabic) he changed the subject and thanked me warmly in his native language.
I took his offer and joined Jack on the way to the lower level. There was nothing more I could do right now anyway, until he woke up or there’s a change in his condition, and I really wanted to meet Ibrahim’s wife and children, and the little baby too, who was one of the symbols in my dream.
“So, I understand this was another one of your love stories?” Jack tried to start up a conversation on the way down.
“Some love story…” I answered with dismissal. “You can call it a disappointment story, it would be more appropriate!” I added, remembering the bitter disappointment I experienced when I learned that the great love I had hoped to share with Connor would not be reciprocated by him.
“What could have happened between you? Did you try to bewitch him?” Jack tried to joke with the hope of extracting more information from me. “It sounds funny, but there were moments that I actually thought there was some kind of magic or sorcery between us. Everything was so special and magical, a once in a lifetime connection, that you feel you know the person in front of you without the need for words, even though you are aware of the fact there’s no chance that you had met before. We used to finish each other’s sentences, feel one another from a great distance and know what the other feels without even seeing each other face to face. He used to live far away from me so we didn’t see each other very often, but each time we met it was very intense, and each conversation was everything. Despite the magic and the amazing connection, I could sense his fear of me. As if I could read him and see something in him that others couldn’t, that I could see his true self from the inside—and that scared him more than anything…” I noticed suddenly that I was standing in one place, pouring into Jack’s ears almost the entire story, and I wasn’t completely sure that he was the right person to be told of my love affair with Connor.
“Don’t stop now, it sounds very interesting!” Jack encouraged me to continue, but I knew he was only asking to gain some leverage over Connor, should he try to take his place.
“Drop it, Jack, this is not the time. Maybe some other time,” I denied his request and continued descending. Jack came after me, silently respecting my refusal, but it was crystal clear that he was intimidated by Connor’s presence.
When we arrived at the bottom, little Jezebel joyfully pounced on me introducing her new friends—Jihan and Th’alal. Jihan was slightly taller than Jezebel, I assessed her age to be around twelve. Th’alal was exactly the same age as Jezebel, and I understood her great joy in an instant. The two other children in the tribe were younger than her, and she couldn’t quite relate to them. Now she had found two suitable friends.
Maybe because of the new situation, and perhaps because they did not speak our language well, the two children seemed shy and withdrawn, but I relied on Jezebel to bring out their ‘joie de vivre’–and that is exactly how it happened. They spoke little English, yet good enough to communicate with Jezebel, who asked for permission to take them on a tour of the island. Even before I managed to say “yes,” the three of them jumped with enthusiasm and went on with their business.
Violet introduced me to Jamila, Ibrahim’s wife, and to Chamid, the third man that came with them, Ibrahim’s younger brother.
The little baby in Jamila’s arms was Chamid’s first born son, so it became clear, who lost his wife when the ship capsized. I wondered how many other workers Connor tried to save, and my appreciation of him grew higher again.
Chamid looked broken hearted, and his eyes were almost lifeless. “He not to touch his baby, when his woman to die in sea!” Jamila explained to me quietly, so he would not hear her and become even sadder. “I to lose three more little children of me and Ibrahim—and ‘Allah Yirachmu’ (God have mercy) give me gift, baby of Chamid, because I to have many milk to give baby. That why we call him Attallah—like God give gift, or as say in your Bible “Jonathan”(from the Old Testament ‘God has given’) Her eyes were filled with tears for the loss of her children, but also for the complete faith and thanks for the present she was given.