The Door

by Lorilyn Roberts

  “I know this garden,” Baruch said surprised. “No wonder. This is where I was taken by the sheep when the king called me.”

  The garden was enclosed by a high rock wall. A clump of thick olive trees surrounding us provided a false sense of security. The place was dark except for two fire pits cradling a fire by a stone entrance. The moving shadows in the fire reminded me of the cartoon characters on my bedroom walls—except these were more ominous because of their enormous size.

  “Where are we?” I asked. “Besides an olive garden that looks familiar to you?”

  “Shhhh. If the guard discovers us, we’re dead.”

  “What guard? Come on, don’t scare me like that.” My hands were cold and I stuck them under the blanket to keep them warm, though it was wet and didn’t help.

  Baruch lifted his head and flared his nostrils. “The smells are familiar, too.”

  “What smells?” I couldn’t smell anything.

  Across the way, flickering lights shone, embedded on a steep hill that sloped into the next valley. I wished I could see more. Baruch leaned forward and stretched out his head. His wide nose reached for familiar scents: “People, fish, vegetables, and wine.”

  “People?”

  “From the village. It’s not far.”

  I still couldn’t smell anything, but howling wolves made me uneasy. Baruch took a few steps forward to get a better view. Rustling leaves startled me. Baruch swung around and we were confronted by two savage-looking eyes that glowed in the dark.

  “Get us out of here!” I stammered.

  “I’m not a horse.” Baruch dug in his hoofs and bared his teeth. Holding his head high, he uttered a loud bray. The wolf snarled, arched its tail, and pulled its ears back to challenge him.

  “You’re going to get us both killed,” I whispered.

  The gray wolf growled and assumed a crouched position as if to lunge at us.

  “Baruch, back off,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to die.”

  “If I run, he’ll crush my neck.”

  Baruch backed away, a few inches at first, and then a few feet. The wolf dropped its arched tail, but still showed its large canine teeth. The animal curled its mouth into a sinister smile.

  “Baruch, make a run for it now. You’ve got a chance.”

  Without any warning, the donkey took off. Baruch heehawed and bolted, snapping off branches and slapping leaves in my face. I grabbed him around the scruff of the neck and clasped tightly. As he tore through the trees, his knapsack caught on a limb—I reached out to save it.

  The olive trees looked like shaggy ghosts in the moonlight, waving sinewy fists. I buried my head facedown into Baruch’s back. He panicked, running aimlessly in circles. This must be the end. I remembered my family, a report I once cheated on, and wondered if anyone would ever find me.

  A loud yelp pierced the thick darkness. Baruch stopped. I held my breath, fearing the wolf would charge us again. A sudden jarring movement and rustling of branches disturbed the silence. In a hysteric frenzy, the wolf jumped out of the thick underbrush, his long body silhouetted in the moonlight. He was no longer chasing us—he was running away from something, but what?

  The “something” moved behind us. The swishing noise cut like a knife at my heart. I muffled my screams with my hand and closed my eyes. I was too terrified to look. Whatever it was, it was trailing us.

  Baruch ducked behind an olive tree and I slid off his back. I’d had enough. A man, dressed in a long drab-colored robe, strode past. In the dim light, he seemed to be holding something, like a sling. I dared not move, lest he turn around and see us. He kept walking. Could he be the gardener, the night watchman? Whoever he was, he saved us from the attacking wolf.

  We waited a while longer, too afraid to make a sound. When I was sure the animal was gone, I relaxed my tense muscles.

  The silence was broken by Baruch. “Shale.”

  “What?”

  “Something is kicking me on the side.”

  “What did you say?” I peered through the dimness but couldn’t see anything. Hesitating, I tiptoed tentatively towards him, ready to flee if something lunged at me. Baruch’s plump body reflected in the moonlight with his knapsack hanging on his shoulder. “There’s nothing near you. I can’t see anything.”

  “There it is again. I felt something.”

  “Felt what? There’s nothing here.” I moved the branches around and examined his protruding belly. “You’re just frightened, imagining things.”

  “No, it’s still doing it. I tell you, I feel something on my side. Is it coming from my knapsack?”

  “Your knapsack?” I glanced at Baruch’s side and my heart pitter-pattered. “Baruch, there’s something alive in your knapsack. What did you put in it?”

  Baruch flailed his head around and stomped his hoofs. “Get it off me.”

  “Not so loud,” I cautioned. Struggling with the cord in the dark, I tore it loose and dumped it on the ground. The knapsack landed hard with a thump. Bulging left, right, up, and then down, at last, the top flung open. Something white popped up in a blur. Startled, I fell back into some thorny briars and the spiny branches held me like a spider.

  “It’s Cherios. What are you doing in there?” I exclaimed.

  “I hid. It was too tight so I ate an apple.” Cherios threw the apple core onto the ground. “Uh, where are we? This isn’t the king’s garden."

  Sharp barbs dug into my side. I didn’t move. “Welcome to Planet Earth.”

  Cherios scrunched up her nose as if she didn’t understand.

  “Seriously, we went through a gate, a doorway into another place. I don’t know where we are.”

  Cherios’s eyes bulged. “Can’t we go back to the king’s garden?”

  Baruch twitched his tail. “You want to go back and be pursued by that dark shape shifter that was chasing us?”

  Cherios held up her paw and examined it. “It’s dirty here. I don’t like this place.”

  In the moonlight, Baruch saw his eaten apple lying on the ground.

  “You did eat my apple.”

  “It was tasty. I couldn’t fit in the knapsack otherwise.” Cherios looked sheepishly at Baruch. “Are you mad at me?”

  Baruch rolled his eyes. “You scared the bejeepers out of me, that’s all.”

  “Can’t you get us back?” Cherios asked. “You got us here. You must know the way.”

  “I don’t know how we got here,” Baruch said.

  “Oh, dear me, what shall we do?”

  “We're going to go back home—my home—as soon as it’s light enough,” Baruch said.

  “Do they have carrots?”

  “I guess so.”

  Cherios licked her front paw.

  I was still tangled in the briars and couldn’t move without scratching my arms and legs. Suddenly Cherios hopped away.

  “Come back here,” I shouted.

  “Not so loud,” Baruch said.

  “Go get her. I can’t move in these thorns. Why did she take off anyway?”

  “I think she panicked.”

  “Go get her and come back. Don’t leave me here.”

  While Baruch chased down Cherios, I climbed out of the thistles enduring scratches on my arms and legs. Why would there be so many thorns in a garden? In addition, out of all days, why did I wear a dress?

  The cool night air was chilly and with the adrenaline surge wearing off, I was cold. I crossed my arms and rubbed them to generate warmth. A few minutes later, Baruch returned carrying Cherios in his mouth. He plopped her down and I grabbed her by the scruff.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes wide.

  “You can’t go running off like that,” I said. “There’s a wolf around and a night watchman. We aren’t in the king’s garden anymore. It’s dangerous. You hear?”

  Cherios nodded again but didn’t say anything.

  “Baruch, we need a plan.” I took the blanket off his back and plopped Cherios down in its place,
and then put the blanket on top of her.

  “Why did you do that?” Cherios asked.

  “So you can’t run off. We don’t want you having panic attacks.”

  Cherios fidgeted underneath the blanket, but seemed resigned to stay put for the moment. Fatigue came over me. Morning was setting in and we hadn’t slept.

  “I saw the entrance somewhere over there,” Baruch said. “It’s about a two-day walk from here to my master’s estate.”

  “Estate? That sounded impressive, though I didn’t want to walk for two days to get there. I was hungry and tired and wanted a shower. I wasn’t in a good mood.

  “We need food, and my clothes, I mean, I can’t wear this.” I scrunched my dirty dress where it was torn and picked off a briar. “And where can we sleep?”

  Baruch nudged his knapsack that was on the ground. “Are the rocks still in there?”

  “What? Oh, yeah, the golden rocks.” I dug into the knapsack to see how many we had. “We have one apple, the white pearl, and one golden nugget.” Why hadn’t I grabbed more? Dozens covered the bottom of the river. I found one more in my dress pocket.

  “Baruch, we could sell this pearl.”

  “Yeah, we’ll try in the village.”

  After a quarter of an hour, we found the entrance to the garden. We traveled along a dusty road that disappeared into a secluded valley and climbed up the other side of the mountain. Fiery beams of light splashed over the crusty hills in the early morning. Here and there, sego palms and low-growing plants found water and clung to the rocky terrain. Sheep and goats wandered about in a field guarded by a shepherd with a bony staff. The road stretched forever in snaky turns and sharp twists along the mountain passes. A strong gust of wind blew sand in my eyes.

  “How much longer?” Cherios asked from underneath the blanket.

  “I don’t know.” My parched throat and rumbling stomach made me irritable.

  Buzzards flew by looking for carrion and a band of wild camels stirred up a dust storm in the distance. I did a double take. Where were we? After several hours, the sun climbed overhead and burned us. Our pace slowed from fatigue. How many people died in the desert for lack of water? Some travelers passed us on the road. We were getting close to civilization.

  “Where are we?” My lips felt swollen and my rear end was sore from sitting so long on a bony animal. The men wore togas and looked poorer than a penny stuck in a gutter. They also stank. Did anybody around here bathe?

  “We’re getting closer,” Baruch said. “Everything looks the same as it was before I left.”

  The little hump on Baruch’s back bobbed up and down. “I’m tired of being trapped under this blanket,” Cherios whined. “I can’t see anything. Plus I’m hot.”

  “We’re almost there. Wait.”

  The sun clipped the precipice of the jagged mountains in the distance, its rays casting shades of pink over the desert landscape. I missed home—my forest green bedroom that Mother said I could repaint ocean blue, my collection of fantasy books, and my best friend, Rachel. All I could think about was Atlanta.

  Deep down, I had longed to run away but this was not what I had in mind. If I ever found that white dog, would she be able to lead me home? How would anybody find me here? Was this God’s way of getting back at me—giving me a taste of the king’s garden and then taking it away to punish me?

  I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand and more drops beaded up. My torn and dirty clothes disgusted me, but Cherios’s wails under the blanket kept me from wallowing too long with self-pity.

  “Baruch, let’s stop for a second.” I lifted the blanket off her sullen face. Her glossy eyes were sad.

  “I don’t belong here,” she confessed. “I was just so afraid, I wanted to hide. Oh, what have I done, what have I done?” She sobbed.

  Baruch’s ears stood on end. “I hear horses. We’d better hide.”

  I lowered the blanket over Cherios and we hurried behind a large boulder. Baruch stooped down and I hid behind him. He was shaking. My heart thumped—if Baruch was scared, what did that mean for the three of us? The hoof beats sounded closer. I couldn’t tell how many riders were approaching. Maybe five. As they neared, they slowed down.

  “Why are they stopping?” I whispered to Baruch.

  “Shut up.”

  Cherios whimpered and I whispered to her, “Be quiet.”

  “Whose voices are those?” she asked.

  “Shut up, both of you,” Baruch demanded. “Many robberies happen in the wilderness so you don’t want to be seen. It’s dangerous on the open roads.”

  Chapter Eight

  Where Am I?

  The travelers stopped about fifty furlongs away in a clearing beside a rocky wall. They wore impressive headpieces that covered their faces, what soldiers wore during barbarian times, or so I remembered from Gladiator. Swords tucked into sheaths gleamed in the sunlight.

  The men galloped across the desert when they were far away. Now that they were nearby, they tarried, much to my annoyance.

  One of the men slid off his horse and looked around. He glanced in our direction and I pulled back out of sight. I felt Baruch’s heart thumping against my cheek. The other riders pulled up and parked alongside him. What were they waiting for?

  The first one dismounted and walked behind the rock wall. Metallic clanging rifled through the air as his armor came into view. A few minutes later, he reappeared stretching his back.

  The man mounted his horse, waved at his comrades, and they took off, passing too close to our hiding place for comfort, but the galloping horses brought relief. The dust from the horses’ hoofs filled the area. I began sneezing and couldn’t stop.

  “That must be a record,” Baruch said.

  “Once I sneezed nineteen times.”

  Baruch rolled his eyes.

  “Yuck. I’m so dirty,” Cherios complained.

  “You can clean yourself later,” I promised.

  The soldiers faded in the distance. We had escaped trouble this time. How would I have explained a stubborn donkey, a sweet bunny, and a fourteen-year-old runaway girl?

  “Let’s hope we don’t see any more of those soldiers,” Baruch said.

  “Just get us where we’re going.” I lifted the blanket off Cherios and patted her reassuringly. “Maybe you won’t hop off now if I remove this.”

  Cherios sat scrunched up in a tiny ball on Baruch’s back.

  “Are you okay? You won’t run away again, will you?”

  “No.”

  I kissed her on the nose.

  We continued along the narrow winding road through corkscrew mountain passes and a rocky desert wilderness. Before dusk, we arrived at a small village. The congested roads were crowded with travelers and merchants. Nostalgia swept over me as I saw young mothers with babies wrapped in their arms. The hordes of people slowed us down but also helped to conceal my strange clothing and fair skin. School-age children skipped past us with little more than a glance. I almost felt at home listening to their friendly chatter.

  A plethora of smells—enticing, repulsive and raw—filled the dusty air from the road. Animal dung was the most revolting. I caught a young man staring at me. I told Baruch to push ahead. We came to a merchant with a scale similar to those in grocery stores.

  “Let’s check out that table, Baruch.” We approached the trader and watched as he doled out three silver pieces to a man in front of us.

  The shopper counted the money and then recounted. “This isn’t the right amount,” he said. “You’re cheating me.”

  The merchant crossed his arms in front of him. “What do you mean, this isn’t the right amount?”

  The disgruntled voices alarmed me. “Maybe we’ll have better luck somewhere else.” I patted Baruch on the back to keep moving.

  Many of the women wore head coverings. I could use the blanket, but what would I do with Cherios? I needed to keep her hidden. I rubbed her on the head to reassure her.

  We passed se
veral tables laden with fruit, bread, and fish. Soon we came to a booth with an assortment of pearls, perfume, and expensive-looking cloth of many colors. A young woman in a purple dress and a white-laced shawl greeted me with a warm smile. I slid off Baruch and walked up to her display.

  She pleasantly asked, “Can I help you? You look like a stranger.”

  My short flowery dress with spaghetti straps stood out against the long flowing wardrobe of the women. I chuckled. “Yes.”

  I handed her the white pearl. “How much will you give me for this?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Oh, so beautiful.” She examined it and admired the pearl before handing it back. “I will give you thirty-five pieces of silver.”

  I wasn’t sure how much that was. I picked out a purple dress. “How much?”

  “Five pieces of silver.”

  Even though I swore I’d never wear another dress, I needed to look like I belonged here. “How about this?”

  She smiled.

  I asked, “Is there a place we could stay overnight? I also need to put up my donkey.”

  She nodded. “My brother has a small inn up the road. Look for Jacob’s Lodging.”

  “Jacob’s?”

  “You’re a stranger here, aren’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “Most foreigners stay there when they come to seek treatment from Doctor Luke. The inn is on the corner two furlongs east of Via Corneli, over the hill. In fact, he arrived last night from Jerusalem, my brother told me. Hurry before all the rooms are taken.”

  I froze on the word “Jerusalem.” Is that where I was? How was it I could understand everyone. Did they speak English, too?

  “Is everything okay?” the woman asked.

  Her question brought me back to reality. “I’ll look for the inn at once,” I assured her. “Thank you.”

  The woman double-checked my purchase for flaws and added. “You will have plenty of oats and water for your animal. Tell him Martha sent you.”

  “Thanks again. I appreciate it.”

  She smiled graciously and headed to another waiting customer.

  I started counting the silver pieces and caught a crow eyeing me. I kept counting—thirty pieces. That should be enough to pay for a night’s lodging and food. I put them all in Baruch’s knapsack, except for the last one. I examined one of the coins and was surprised to see the word “Caesar” engraved on it. I flipped the coin over and “Augustus” was etched on the other side. Why would I have a coin with the name of a famous Roman emperor on it?