“I wish I could meet him someday.”
“You will.”
“Tell me more about this king.”
“He’s perfect.”
“Then I better stay away from him.”
The white dog shook her head. “No, you got it wrong. The king knows you aren’t perfect—but since he created you, he knows everything about you.”
“Created me? My parents did that. No matter—maybe the king will adopt me and make me a princess, and I won’t even have to kiss a frog.”
“You underestimate the king’s power,” the dog replied.
“What about you? I’m here because of you. Where are we?”
“We’re where the king brought you,” the white dog said.
“Brought me?” I eyed the dog skeptically. “So the king sent you to me to bring me here and he wants to make me his daughter, but I don’t yet know my father. Sounds like a story I might write someday, and I wouldn’t be accused of plagiarizing—it’s too fantastical.” I laughed. “I just made up a word.”
“The king loves magical stories.”
“Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to hear one.” I looked at the dog’s foot. “How come you have a limp?
“I don’t.”
“I saw you limping back at the apartment—twice.”
“I was imitating you.”
“What are you, some kind of psychiatrist?” I had almost forgotten about Dr. Silverstein.
“How did you hurt your foot?” the dog asked.
I stiffened as my joy fled. “It’s healed now.”
The dog changed the subject before I had to lie. “Come. Let me show you around the stable.”
“I’m going to name you Much-Afraid. You remind me of the dog from my favorite childhood story.”
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
“A dog that knows Shakespeare.” I laughed. A king of stories and coincidences? Lost in thought, I entered the stable. The cave was roomy and dry for an enclosure full of donkeys, pigs, goats, and sheep, even some animals that weren’t invited. Two mice scurried underneath the table. Baruch was munching on oats when I walked over to his stall and patted his head. “I’m so happy to see you—in such a short time you’ve become my favorite donkey.”
“And how many donkeys have you ever met?”
I held up my fingers and counted—one.
We both laughed.
“I’m happy to see you, too, Miss Shale.”
I grinned. “How is Daniel?”
Baruch’s eyes beamed. “We’ve got plenty of oats, fresh water, and a clean stall. Daniel is kind. Different.”
The way Baruch said it reminded me of Mari’s words.
Cherios hopped on the ledge and bobbed up and down. “I have lots of carrots and veggies.”
Much Afraid barked excitedly. “Come meet Lowly.” Much-Afraid led me to his stall. A cute little pig wagged his short tail as he bowed. “Th-thank you for bringing Baruch b-back to us.”
“You’re welcome.” I examined the stony walls and high ceiling. The other animals in the stable nodded at me but remained quiet—except for the fiery donkey in the back stall. He was a large, red-haired ass with a cantankerous disposition. Banging his backside into the wall, he grumbled and kicked the doorframe with his hoofs.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.
Baruch jerked his head towards the back and whinnied. “Daniel gave me his stall and put him in that one. He didn’t like being moved.”
I studied the disgruntled donkey as he gave me a sarcastic smile. I leaned over and whispered in Baruch’s ear. “Stay away from that brute, okay? He gives me the creeps.”
Chapter Eleven
Silence of Destiny
Later that evening, at mealtime, Scylla introduced me to the rest of the family—Nathan, who was mute, from my father’s second wife (he was on his fourth); Mari, the housekeeper; and a couple of slaves whose names I couldn’t pronounce. The conversation focused on governmental matters for which I had no interest. When they mentioned my father, my ears perked up, but mostly it concerned his work in the province. I still didn’t understand what he did, except he kept the peace.
I caught Nathan staring at me several times during the meal. I looked away feeling awkward. How do you connect with a person who can’t speak? It was hard to believe he was my half-brother.
“Has he ever said anything?” I asked.
Scylla shook her head. “When Nathan gets agitated, we send for Daniel and he calms Nathan down.”
What would it be like not to be able to talk? The poor boy had straight brown hair and green eyes, like me, but was much bigger boned and a little too plump. In contrast, I could barely gain a pound. Nathan was two years younger. A mild disposition gave him a child-like innocence.
Scylla ended the evening by telling me I had to contribute to the running of the household if I planned to stay with them. They would enroll me in school as soon as possible. I should have known I couldn’t escape that.
“You see the well in the distance?”
I nodded.
“You will need to fill the bucket up first thing in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Scylla’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t done much housework, have you?”
“Why do you say that?”
She grabbed my hand and stroked it. “You have soft hands.”
I jerked it away from her. “I have chores,” I snapped.
“Good. We’ll see what a good worker you are.” Scylla walked over and picked up a cup, poured some wine, and headed to her private quarters, disappearing behind a closed door. It would be my luck to have a father with such poor taste in women. I shook my head in disgust.
“Thanks for the delicious meal, Mari.”
She smiled back.
After saying good night to Nathan, I climbed up the stairs on the outside of the house. The stars shone brightly and I searched for the Big Dipper. Where were those four lights? A breeze blew that cooled me off, slowing down my gushing thoughts. The gentle air lifted my spirits, whispering sweet lullabies into my racked brain. Did they hold the secret to my future?
“Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo.” An owl sent love notes across the hills.
No iPhones, no computers, no cars, no iTunes, no Internet, and no TVs. Tomorrow I hoped for answers.
Chapter Twelve
Shale and the Young Man at the Well
“Peet-sah, peet-sah.” I was surprised to hear a flycatcher high above in the tress. His familiar call reassured me some things don’t change. I grabbed the bucket hanging on the wooden post and started down the stony path to the well. The sun hung brightly in the sky casting sharp rays on the rolling hillside. Dew droplets glimmered on the blades of grass. A cool breeze blew and flapped my long hair against my shoulders and into my face.
I set the empty bucket down and noticed a weary man sitting on a stump. A shawl hung down over his face, covering his eyes. A donkey stood alongside him. I did a double take—the animal looked like that red brute in the cave the day before.
“Could you draw some water for my donkey?” the man asked. He never looked up, but sat hunched over. He was very young, perhaps not more than a teenager. He must have been up at dawn to be so tired.
I reached for the rope and hooked it on the bucket, then lowered the bucket down. After filling it, I trudged the water over, taking care not to slosh it around. It was quite heavy to tote. I didn’t know fetching water could be so hard.
As I approached the young man, he lowered his shawl and smiled. Aghast, I dropped the bucket. The water spilled out, scaring the donkey. He took off in a scramble. The spilled water drenched the boy and spread out in a puddle on the ground.
“Why did you do that?” The familiar man wiped the water off his arms.
I stood frozen as if shot with a stun gun. How could he be here? Memories hijacked me—the curse he put on me two years ago, the attack in the hallway, shaming me with the worm, and all the things too numerous to mention. He�
�d made my life hell. I hated him. How dare he follow me here! I began to hyperventilate, feeling my way behind me with my hands.
“Don’t come near me or I’ll kill you.”
“You kill me?” he blinked twice and laughed.
I continued to back up. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
“You’re a liar.” Now I knew Judd was insane.
“You’ve come back after all these years. Your mother is more honorable than I imagined.”
“What are you talking about?” I kept backing away until I felt a person behind me. Surprised—I didn’t remember seeing anyone nearby— I turned. “Daniel.”
He eyed both of us. “What’s going on?”
Judd stood, lifting the shawl over his head and mumbling a few unintelligible words. Then he took off after his donkey.
“Where did you come from?” I searched his face in disbelief.
“I’ll explain later, once I know you better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why are you so afraid of him?” Daniel’s eyes glanced over at the fleeing figure.
“What do you mean?”
“What did he do to you?”
The direct nature of the question startled me. “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks for coming.”
Daniel picked up my water bucket and filled it. “Come, let’s go. We’ll talk about it later, when you’re calmer.”
We walked back to the house in silence.
Could I trust Daniel? Something mysterious about him piqued my curiosity but I couldn’t place my finger on it.
“After you eat breakfast, come find me in the cave,” he said, “if you want to talk.”
“Okay.” I stood in the back portico watching him walk away. Who was he?
Chapter Thirteen
Strange Coincidence
After breakfast, I sat on a hewn log in the back portico. The air was dry, making my eyes sting and nose itch. A full-fledged pity party consumed me. Would I ever enjoy meals here?
My almost teenage half-brother had the annoying habit of making embarrassing, unintelligible sounds while eating, and my stepmother handed me a long list of chores. I was glad to help out, but I didn’t want to be treated like a slave. I picked up a rock and skipped it across the ground, watching it disappear beneath half-dead weeds. Maybe I should leave, except I wanted to meet my father.
“Ca-ca. What’s got you down?”
I looked up and spotted Worldly Crow peering at me from a palm tree a few feet away. He flew over and lighted beside me. His dark blue feathers shone in the harsh sunlight while his bulging eyes fixated on Baruch’s red apple. I wasn’t going to give it to him. I’d pulled it out of the knapsack—the very last one.
“Don’t want to talk about it?” Worldly Crow cocked his head coyly.
“It’s not what I had expected, that’s all.” I gazed off in the distance. “I don’t even know what I want. I just know this isn’t it.”
Worldly Crow sat listening. “Your father is on the way.”
I sat up straighter. “He is?”
“Yes. He should be here later today.”
“How do you know?” I was reluctant to believe him.
“I fly everywhere keeping track of the news of the day. I saw him myself, traveling up from Jerusalem. He’s a very important man in the government, gone more than he’s here. Be happy that you get to see him at all.”
“Tell me more about him. What’s he like?”
Worldly Crow cackled. “He likes to drink and he likes women.”
Just what I wanted to hear. “What else?”
“Ca-ca. He has lots of money.”
“What else? Has he ever mentioned me?”
“I overheard him say you were coming. I didn’t know you existed.”
I laughed demurely. “So my father kept me a secret all these years.”
“Now, listen here, little girl,” the crow admonished. “I don’t want you to be disappointed, but he’s a diplomat in the Roman government. He may not have time for you. He has to tend to matters of the state and make important decisions.”
“More important than his daughter?”
Worldly Crow ruffled his feathers at my rebuff. “I say it like it is. Take it for what it’s worth.” He eyed my apple. “Are you going to eat it?”
“No. This is for Baruch. It’s his. He loves apples. The red ones are his favorite.”
“Oh.” The crow smacked his beak. “We don’t have anything like that around here. Where did you get it?”
“The garden. Now you know. You can’t have it. It’s the last one he’ll get for a long time. Unless you can tell me something else about my father, I’m going to give this to him now.”
The crow closed his eyes poetically. “Scylla has been fussing over you coming. She’s protective of him.”
“What do you mean?”
Worldly Crow sneered. “Everybody knows she married him for his money. Your father is a brilliant man except when it comes to women—his downfall. Ca-ca.”
Then the crow disappeared into the hedge. Good riddance. When I entered the cave, Baruch was not in his usual pen. Instead, the brazen donkey I had seen with Judd greeted me. I was afraid to approach him.
“If you’re looking for Baruch, he’s in the back,” the fiery red donkey said.
“Why?”
“Judd put him back there. This is my stall, not Baruch’s.”
I kicked the door to his stall and gave him a dirty look.
“What’s your name?”
“Assassin.”
His name stopped me cold.
“Where did you get the apple?” Assassin asked.
“It’s Baruch’s from the garden. The last one.”
“So he likes apples?”
“Yes.” I examined Assassin. To think of him being around Baruch frightened me. I didn’t trust him or Judd.
“I’m back here.” Baruch’s words trailed from the back of the cave.
I followed his voice and my favorite trio greeted me. Cherios jumped into my arms, almost knocking the apple out of my hand. I glanced back at Assassin as the other animals watched us. I handed Baruch his apple, along with the knapsack. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to mend it yet. This is the last apple for a long time.”
I leaned over his stall door and whispered, “You should savor it and eat it s-l-o-w-l-y.”
Baruch had other ideas. He chomped it down in seconds.
Then the front door opened and Daniel walked in. After wiping his hands on a well-used cloth, he plopped down on the bench across from me. “So how was breakfast?”
“Fine, but I’m not happy Judd put Baruch back here in the small stall. Can he do that? Aren’t you in charge?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Shale, that it matters that much. Aren’t you being picky?”
“What do you mean, picky?”
“Judd was the stable hand before I arrived. He knows how to take care of the animals. It’s not like Baruch is being mistreated.”
“I don’t like that donkey. Why are you siding with Judd?”
“I’m not. I took over the animal care when your father hired me to help with Nathan. Judd refuses to accept that I replaced him, but it’s not like Baruch is being abused.”
“I don’t like it that Baruch is in the back by himself, but if you aren’t going to do anything about it, that’s fine.”
“We can move him. You don’t have to get so upset about it.” Daniel rubbed his eyes and squinted.
“Got something in your eye?”
“No, it’s not that.”
He continued to be distracted and I stopped talking, waiting until he had finished. Unexpectedly, a round plastic object fell on the table. He picked it up and hid it in his hand.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Is that a contact lens?”
“What?”
“The thing in your hand?”
I stared at him. Things didn’t add up. I had been here long enough to know they didn’t make contact lenses around here. What was he holding back? “Where do you come from?”
Daniel’s eyes spread wide. “How perceptive you are.” He fidgeted for a minute as I waited for an answer.
Finally, Daniel asked, “How do you know what this is?”
I spread my palms out towards him, still waiting for him to answer me.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Daniel suggested, though not convincingly. He knew I had him cornered.
“Me? Tell you what?” Flustered, I turned away. He was the one with the contact lens. I wasn’t going to tell him anything.
Daniel stood and then began pacing. He came up behind me and stopped. “I need to be able to trust you.”
“You can trust me.”
He walked over to the bench along the wall, near the door, and plopped down again.
“Wait a minute.” I glanced at Assassin—I didn’t want him to overhear.
“Can you put Assassin to pasture?”
“Assassin?” Daniel looked perplexed. “How did you know his name?”
“He told me,” I blurted.
“The donkey told you?” Daniel asked.
My face and neck grew hot. “Well, sort of.”
Daniel raised his eyebrow. “I’ll put Assassin outside. Wait here,” he said.
A few minutes later, he returned, leaving the door ajar.
“Don’t you want to shut the door? Someone might hear us.”
“There’s no one else around.” He sat beside me at the table. We both started talking at once. I laughed. Daniel’s eyes reminded me of Rachel’s.
“So you can talk to animals?” he asked.
Would I reveal my secret? “Yes, I can talk to the animals and they can talk to me.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck intrigued. “Have you always been able to talk to the animals?”
“No. Someone called my name. That was the first time.”
Much-Afraid padded over and sat beside me.
I scratched her behind the ear. “The first voice I heard was hers—I’m pretty sure—before I was transported to the garden.”
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