The Lost City

by Carrie E. Gruhn

  “No thanks, Tanya. You’ve plenty to do without helping me. And if you could fix up your own place surely I’m not too helpless to fix mine.” Laughing gaily she went behind the gaudy shawl which she had fixed across the opening almost as soon as the wall had permitted, and I returned to my small fire to add more stew to the bubbling kettle.

  The stew in the kettle boiled no less violently than did my emotions. I could not push back the icy hand that was fast closing around my heart. In vain I told myself that I was Paul’s only love and that to be afraid of Lilah was foolish. I could not escape easily the habit of jealousy which she had herself been anxious to foster in the days when she lived in our small village. Nor could I keep the picture of her on the temple steps from coming again and again to my mind. My hands trembled, and mother’s alert eyes must have seen their trembling for she came to my side and her own fingers closed around mine as I spooned out the stew. I felt the tears rushing into my eyes at that sign of sympathetic understanding, but then her fingers gripped more tightly and her voice whispered in my ear.

  “Tanya, where is your pride? I remember you always had more than your share—has it been wasted prodigally so that there is none left at a time like this?”

  Angrily I tried to free my hand but her hand held fast. Under its quiet insistence I could only be still and listen to her admonition. Only a moment I had, then Lilah came out to join us and with a grateful glance at mother I found myself speaking to her quietly. I knew from her look that she could not guess how hard it was to make her one of us.

  Lilah shuddered away from too much talk of happenings outside our haven. That was natural. We who had not seen them could hardly bear to listen to the account of horrors brought to our ears daily. Some needed to clear their minds by talking about what they had seen, others, like Lilah, wanted only to be allowed to forget.

  “It’s good just to be here,” Lilah shivered. “You don’t know how lucky you all are not to be out there. Please, I’d rather not talk about it—I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not, my dear,” mother had answered. Not one of us felt like pressing her to bring the horrors in to our sheltered hideaway.

  So we talked of other things as we ate. Of the multitudes streaming now into our city. Of the fruits and the milk and the honey which already were flowing back to replace the stores which we had been forced to use. Of the happy children and the busy mothers and fathers tending the gardens, the flocks and the cattle. Of the great amphitheater and the wonderful open-air services which the Rabbi held there on each Lord’s Day. Of how eagerly we drank in the messages which he brought to us. Lilah seemed anxious to know all about our life and we were glad to tell her so that she might not have time to remember the awful things she had seen.

  Once when her hand reached up to brush restlessly at her heavy hair which lay in a thick bang across her forehead, I could not resist one small evil thought. It would be easy to hide a mark under bangs that clung to hide it. But I pushed that thought away. And a little later I was glad that I had not given voice to it.

  We had eaten and my mother had gone to lie down for awhile. Lilah went into her room but returned almost at once.

  “Let me help clear away the table. I am expecting the others in less than a half hour so we can make things fly by working together.”

  “The others?” I asked stupidly.

  “Oh, Tanya, forgive me. I quite forgot that you don’t know the real reason why I am here. And I forgot to give you the letter Paul sent you.” Her eyes were wide with contrition. But I had eyes only for the letter which she drew out of a deep pocket, sorting it with maddening slowness from among others. “I should have given it to you the minute I came, but there were so many important things to attend to.”

  “That’s all right.” I tried to be light and to cover my eagerness, but my fingers trembled as I took the proffered letter and hid it quickly inside my own pocket.

  Never had dishes taken so long and had it not been for Lilah’s announcement that she was expecting visitors I would surely have left them till later.

  “I don’t know what Paul wrote but I am sure he will have told you why he sent me, so it can’t do any harm to tell you. I thought it was a hugh joke when he first got the idea of fixing up this old abandoned city for a hideaway in case of trouble, but you know Paul! He simply carries everyone with him when he gets an idea. It was fun slipping away on secret journeys to bring in the supplies and to plan out how to make the place more secure. Does that surprise you, Tanya? I mean that I helped with that, too? But I always helped Paul.” She paused with a dish in her hand to stare into vacancy. Again I felt the green-eyed monster rear its head, but I would put it down at any cost!

  “I know. I always envied you your mind, Lilah. I always seem to have such idiotic ideas. Paul teased me about them until I finally learned to keep still. But tell me, Lilah, where did you leave Paul? Was he all right? I mean, he wasn’t sick or—or no one had found him out, had they?”

  “Would I be here if he were sick?” Lilah turned on me with a ferocious intensity that told me she still loved him. No, she would most certainly not have left him if he were sick. I felt the anxiety for him lighten.

  “But there, the last dish is finished and you run along and read your letter.” She smiled and gave me a gentle push toward the door so gratefully I ran out to a favorite spot where I would be alone to read Paul’s precious letter.

  There were two letters and not just one! The envelopes were lightly stuck together to make sure neither would be lost. My fingers trembled as I opened the first one.

  “Dear Tanya—my very own Rebekah! It seems such a long time since you came to me across ‘our field’!” I kissed the sweet name which was his secret name for my ears, alone. “I am so glad that you are safely hid in our fortressed city. The terrors and the suffering out here are indescribable, but I am not writing to tell you of them. I imagine that newcomers bring their own descriptions to you. I only hope that many have been able to escape to join you. I know that I have been able to direct many and hope to be able to continue to do so. Dearest Rebekah, believe me when I tell you that so far I have miraculously escaped not only detection but danger. Be patient, my sweet, yet a little while, for the end cannot be far distant.

  “There is a way in which the end can be hastened and one who can help bring about the desired victory. I am giving this letter and complete authority into the hands of the one who has been all along of the greatest possible assistance and support and inspiration to me, Lilah. Please give her all the help that you can. Remember she was with me helping to prepare the city you are in, and that the whole plan of defending it was worked out with not only her help, but often following her own suggestions. I know of no one better equipped to be in command than she. Believe me when I warn that the time is not far off when all your resources will be needed to protect and defend yourselves from the gathering forces even now turning toward the city of refuge. Lilah knows exactly how and where to make our best stand. There will be those who will be doubtful—I wish I could be there personally to give over the authority into her hands, but I cannot leave my work here and surely some way you can persuade the leaders to accept her direction.

  “Rebekah, my darling, I am desperate and torn between the desire to come myself and to remain here that others may be guided to our city of refuge. I have no other choice than to send Lilah. I promise that if she is given the authority to direct all affairs in the protection of the city that the time will be lessened when I can look once more across the field to see my beloved approaching. Isaac.”

  I sat for a long time reading and re-reading the letter. Tears of gladness fell on it as it gave me assurance that Paul had been safe when he wrote it. I stilled the rebellion rising against the request he had penned that I give Lilah my aid. I could not read without a return of the jealousy that her clever ability and helpfulness always had aroused. Even as I rebelled I could not but admit that the request was not unreasonable. I only
hoped that the leaders would accept her appointment without demur and that I would not be called upon to convince them of her right to it.

  I turned the other envelope over in my fingers and pushed silly jealousy into the background. I felt sure that this other letter would hold only messages of love and personal thought which had, in small measure, crept into the first one. What if he had found Lilah useful and clever—it was Rebekah who had been taken into Isaac’s tent and not she. I scolded myself and thought to give a sort of punishment in withholding the love letter yet to be opened. Instead of punishment it only set my heart to dreaming the more, and time was fleeing so at last I opened to read.

  “My dearest darling! How can I stand this waiting longer? My arms are hungry for you. My lips desire your kisses. The nights are so long and the days so empty without you.” I kissed the words and a little of my own loneliness left me. “It is becoming more and more difficult to keep up this deception.” For a moment my heart contracted with fear. O God, don’t let them discover his disguise and hurt him! Bring him safely-back to me—then less selfishly I added another bit to my whispered prayer—Keep him safe, not just for me but for Thy work that others may find the Messiah through his ministry—.

  Lilah had said that he was safe, but how long had it been since she had left him? What might have happened in the interim? The net thrown out by the Prince was tightening, ever drawing closer in the effort to bring every person under subjugation to him and to his horrid Beast. How had Paul been able to find food and shelter this long without being discovered? What would happen when at last the command to halt and to show the required mark could not longer be disregarded? I shuddered recalling the stories brought in by the refugees of what had happened to others on whose foreheads and hands the sign had not been found. But my new-found faith in God rose above my fears. I lifted my eyes and let His peace flood out the imagining of my mind and leave only its weight of assurance in my heart.

  I returned to my letter; its words were like sweet music to my ears. “It is becoming more and more difficult to keep up this deception. I would fly to you and be happy but I have seen the hunger and the trust in the eyes of those who have a claim on me. I know that until they can be safely guided into a new security I would not be free to accept the happiness that you alone can give to me.” I re-read those lines before turning the page, glad for the strength that was Paul’s and the kindness and the understanding that would not let him hurt or close his eyes to anyone’s needs. I had always been full of pride in him and that pride was richer now than it had been before when borne of my own selfish desire to be proud. But I knew that I had overstayed my visit to my quiet nook and must finish my letters quickly and return. Eagerly I turned the page and like a whip across my heart I read the words Paul had written there.

  “Those who depend on us and are weak in themselves weave their own chains that bind even more closely than any man-made ties. I know, because I have come to depend so much on your love and assistance and understanding when I could not give you the security or the full rights our love deserves. I wish that I could call you ‘wife’ and not just darling. But perhaps that will come, too. I strain at the need for pretending and I know that I cannot keep my real feelings from my voice, my eyes, and my lips forever. I tremble to think what it will do to her when she knows that only pity keeps me and that my heart belongs only to you, my darling, my own sweet Lilah!”

  Even before I came to her name I began to know that this letter had not been meant for me. The old doubts and fears which once had kept me from becoming his wife in more than name for so long came flooding back. This time I knew, beyond a doubt, that they had been not without foundation, had indeed been only too true. Had I not always known that Paul was unnaturally kind and discerning? Had my intuition not warned me that he would not let me down but would keep his part of the bargain at any cost? So, almost at once I recognized “those who depend on us,” “the weak ones”. I writhed under the knowledge that the love that I had needed had been mine only because of the binding “chains” that would not let it go. How skillfully had he disguised his true feeling, yet in the light of this new revelation I knew that, though borne of pity, he had loved me in a way. One must always feel some love for those who depend on us for everything. He had given me everything, hadn’t he, a home, security, a son, yes, had given me back my mother, and that greatest of all gifts, my God and my Messiah, my Lord and my Saviour! There was nothing left now that I needed. He had gently released my need for his strength and kindness and had helped to fasten it on my God who could give me everything always and forever. Not just that he might be freed of my clinging for, honestly, I had to admit that there had been no thought of such a release when he had told me of Jesus. I could not believe that he had tried to see Lilah again when he left us to go back out there.

  Their meetings had been inevitable and once he had seen her he had been unable to deny his love. I could understand for I loved him so completely! I shrank from divorce. The world had made that practice common. Mother’s teachings, based on her beloved prophets, looked down upon it. I wondered what Jesus had to say, but then Paul must know and he had promised her that the time might come when he would be free—O Paul, Paul! How have I hurt you? How have I misused the kindness and the generosity that was willing to give me everything, withholding nothing that I might be happy? The ceremony on shipboard could have been erased when its mission had been accomplished. Unfairly I had taken advantage of that ceremony to weave it into a factual pact instead of the pretended one it had been meant to be. I knew at last that I must be the one to break the chains since I had forged them of my own selfish desire. Despairingly he had accepted them and not let me see how they denied him his hopes for happiness.

  I waited on the hill hoping that the men who were gathered with Lilah would go, and that I would not be asked to endorse her appointment. But the hour passed and with it the indecision and the turmoil in my breast. I knew what I must do and, for the first time in my life, I felt strong enough to rise above my selfishness. I had cried until my burning eyes had no more tears. I had writhed in anguish and rebellion until all emotion and passion had become wearied of struggling and left me quiet. Then I forgot myself enough to look up, at first demanding my own way, then with gradual, humble giving-over of self I poured out my heart to God. It was when I had surrendered to God’s will for me that I knew peace and strength and was able to put away the letters and return to face Lilah and the others, if need be.

  I stopped by our little pool and bathed my face in the clear, cold waters until I felt the fever leaving it. I felt that in the dimness of the room no one would guess the past hour’s conflict. At the door I hesitated, turning to look off to where a golden gleam touched a high rock washing it with pure gold—“The fining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold: but the Lord trieth the hearts.1—I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.” I could not pass the task assigned to me over to another. It was mine to do so I set my hand against the door and went in to stand beside Lilah and give proof of her right to the unusual power which had been delegated to her.

  1. Proverbs 17:3; Isaiah 48:10.

  24

  NOT MY WILL

  THERE WAS A TENSENESS that did not need Lilah’s half-mocking words to tell me that the men were balking against her demands.

  “Well, Tanya, it looks as if Paul sent me here on a wild-goose chase.” There was a vivid spot of color in each cheek and Lilah’s beautiful eyes flashed angrily.

  She had worked so long with those familiar with her and with her capability that to meet with opposition had aroused her latent ire. I knew that as she grew more impatient the opposition would stiffen. For an instant I considered letting her fight it out alone then felt shame in the thought. Paul had stressed the necessity for Lilah to be given free rein. She knew exactly how and where to fortify and make our city completely invulnerable, none other did. Whether I liked it or not in her hands la
y our safety. If I would make these men understand and accept that fact I must submerge my feelings and use any means possible to make them give her the authority to carry out the plans already perfected. So I did not falter noticeably but went to stand close by her side. As if surprised and a little discomfited she cast a smile, at once rueful and amused, in my direction.

  “Lilah, I read Paul’s letter. I know why you are here and I want to help if I can.”

  “Thanks, Tanya. But I doubt if anyone can convince those stiff-necked wise-ones that it just might be possible for a girl to know something that they don’t.”

  I winced at her words, but it was evident that there had been heated argument and with none there to vouch for her she had come out poorly. I took a few minutes to scan the scowling faces and my face must have mirrored dismay. Especially since, in that room of leaders, Simon was strangely absent.

  “Where is Uncle Simon? He knows your work with Paul. Surely he could help convince them!” I felt out of place standing there with so many eyes upon me. I no longer felt the least envy for Lilah and her work. Let her have the limelight, as for me I would be content always to be the one who stayed at home after tonight!

  “Simon took your mother and Toni outside. I didn’t think I would need him since, as you say, he does know about me and your mother wanted to walk and he did not like to have them go alone.” I nodded in understanding.

  Often the three went for walks as the sun sank and laid purple shadows across the valley and upon the opposite walls. It was then that the fragrant perfumes from the flowers, the shrubs, and the cool fresh smell of cultivated earth rose sweetest. Then the sun lingered to caress softly the highest peaks, and the stars along the rim would begin to come palely forth adding slender threads of silver to the darkness of the night. It was a time of earth’s reaching up and of the skies bending down when God seemed always very close, indeed. All had come to enjoy the vesper hour and so I could understand how Simon would go so that he might keep Toni’s hand tight-clasped in his, shielding him from stumbling as darkness came.