The Door

by Lorilyn Roberts

  I stopped short. I had said too much. He’d hate me now, but I didn’t like it when people didn’t listen to me or take me seriously.

  “I use logic to answer questions.”

  “How can you say that when we find ourselves back in time? Maybe logic doesn’t always work.”

  “Maybe not,” he responded tersely.

  “I expected you to have all the answers.” Disappointment overwhelmed me. It was easier for Daniel to attack what I saw than to explain what it meant. “Have you ever had anything like that to happen?”

  “No, but I’ve seen weird things since I came here that I can’t explain.”

  “I’m not making this up. Can you just try to believe me?”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes.”

  “Who do you think the two creatures were?”

  Daniel walked several feet away and stopped. He spoke a few words in Hebrew, clasped his hands, and lilted a few more phrases. “That explains one thing.”

  I approached him. “What’s that?”

  “Why this time? Why back in Roman times? Why now?”

  “Yeah, why now?”

  Daniel studied me. “How good are you in history?”

  I laughed. “Not so much. It’s boring.”

  “Not all of history. Let me give you a quick history lesson.”

  I anticipated a dull lecture.

  Daniel began. “A significant person was born during the reign of Caesar Augustus. Controversy surrounded his birth—his origins. Many called him a king and others called him the Jewish Messiah. I never took the rumors seriously because the Jewish leaders rejected him.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Reject him?”

  Daniel ignored my question. “Could this be the man talked about in the New Testament, is what I started to say?”

  “Like, in the Bible?”

  “Yes. I remember reading this story or seeing it in a movie. The devil tempted a prophet after spending forty days in the wilderness without food. Some called him a lunatic. I figured he was a false prophet. There have been hundreds of them throughout history. The Jews didn’t need another one at that time in history when they were already so oppressed by the Romans.”

  “You didn’t answer me, Daniel. Why did the Jewish leaders not believe the things he said?”

  “They were wise in the law, and after evaluating his claims and his background, they found him not to be who he said he was.”

  “Suppose they were wrong?” I persisted.

  Daniel appeared caught off guard—as if he believed what he believed because that’s what he had always believed. “They weren’t wrong. You are talking about the Sanhedrin, the most learned men of the day, including both the Sadducees and Pharisees, who didn’t agree on anything, but both groups rejected his claims. They knew the Scriptures.” Daniel paused, as if still struggling to dismiss what I had just said. “At least your father is a Roman citizen— if that’s the time period now. As for me, I’d better not stir up any trouble here.”

  “He didn’t seem like a lunatic to me. Baruch called him the king of the garden.”

  “What does a donkey know about anything?”

  “Do you believe in God?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course, the Jewish God.”

  “How many gods are there?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God who saved us from the Arabs after World War II when we were attacked. And, more recently, when God protected us against Iran—since help never arrived from our allies.”

  “Who is this guy, then? A lunatic, a prophet, a king, or God? The underling wanted the man to bow down and worship him.”

  Daniel wrote a Hebrew word with his staff in the sand. “If he’s the same one spoken of in the New Testament, he’s a misguided man who did a lot of good things. Some called him the Son of God. That’s what got him into trouble with the Jews. Caesar didn’t like him because some called him a king. There could only be one of those among the Romans. Jealousy reigned supreme.”

  I crossed my arms defiantly.

  Daniel laughed. “Did he look like a king? Wouldn’t he look like one? He sure wouldn’t be wandering around in the wilderness.”

  “I suppose,” I conceded.

  “Shale, calling oneself God is blasphemy. Anyone who does so is subject to death. Maybe he’s a schizophrenic, but he couldn’t be the Son of God—or God.”

  “Suppose you’re wrong? Suppose he’s the Son of God?”

  Daniel shook his head in frustration.

  The look in his eyes pierced my heart.

  Daniel continued. “We had a couple of patients in the psychiatric ward who were delusional. The nurses kept them doped up. Of course, they doped up everybody, even those who shouldn’t have been. It’s hard to know who someone is. They thought I was crazy and I wasn’t.”

  “You aren’t crazy,” I assured him. Curiosity got the best of me. “What did you just write in the sand?”

  “God’s name, that is too holy to say. God doesn’t give his glory to others,” Daniel added. “Maybe there’s a reason for us being here.” His voice trailed off as his eyes followed the disappearing road in the distance. Then he squinted several times.

  “Are your contact lenses bothering you again?”

  “No.” He leaned in as if looking for something. “We’re being watched.”

  “We are?” Prickles up and down my arms made me cringe. I didn’t like surprises.

  Daniel pointed towards the entrance to the cave. “Over there.”

  “By who?”

  “Judd.”

  I followed his finger but I couldn’t tell if it was him. I strained to see more clearly. “How long has he been there?”

  Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. He wants his job back and is looking for a way to make that happen.”

  I squinted again to see but without success. “I hate him.”

  “You hate the Judd from your own life, time—dimension.”

  “Why do you think he’s not the same?”

  “I tried to explain this to you before. Suppose you were born in this dimension and not your own. Imagine what the possibilities would be. You would still be you, with the same set of parents, but your future and your world would be different. Your past would be different in some ways, but the same in others. They are like parallel universes.”

  “Suppose there’s a spiritual component you’re missing, Daniel?”

  “What would that be? I’m Jewish and you aren’t anything. Don’t you think if there were something spiritual in all of this, I’d see it before you would?”

  “Unless you’re blind.”

  Daniel seemed irritated by my rebuff.

  “Why are we here, Daniel? Something significant happened out there in the desert. I intend to find out what it was.”

  “And I like that about you, Shale Snyder.”

  He said my full name like he meant it. “One more question for you, Mr. Scientist. If God wanted to reach you, do you think he could do anything in the universe to make that happen?”

  Daniel exhaled. “Yes.”

  “So if you read something somewhere, like in a book, could he make it come alive?”

  Daniel’s eyes kindled with fiery passion. “Yes.”

  “Could he transport you back in time?”

  “God can do anything,” Daniel said.

  I turned back towards the house and searched for Judd. “Is he still there?”

  “Yes. As long as he lets me take care of the animals, mainly yours, I don’t care if he’s around.”

  “You don’t think he would hurt them, do you?”

  “No. Not unless he wanted to make it appear like I did it to get rid of me.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  Daniel said reassuringly, “He might be mean, but I don’t think he’s wicked.”

  I hoped Daniel was right. “Just one more question. Why would the underling offer the ma
n everything if he would bow down and worship him? The black creature already had lots of power.”

  “There’s good and evil in the world. The Pentateuch gives us examples of both.” Daniel kicked the rocks under his feet. “The Jewish people have a rich history—we are God’s chosen. I can’t believe this pauper is any more than a good man—and still be Jewish. I could never give that up. It is who I am.”

  I stared at the ground. “I believe he’s more than a good man and I wish I was Jewish.”

  Daniel grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said. “You’re a Roman, a good Roman citizen. That is to be valued here. If anything bad happens in the world, the Jews get blamed for it. It’s almost like a curse.”

  The way he said it gave me goose bumps. “Why, if you are God’s chosen?”

  Daniel murmured, “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Dark Light of the Moon

  Spring crept into summer and fall arrived. Before I realized, a year had passed. I grew taller and filled out a little, feeling more like a young woman than a gawky teenager.

  My application to attend school was sent off, but even that wasn’t without conflict. Scylla and my father didn’t agree, and the one quick trip he made home from Jerusalem during that time to deal with it was disappointing. I barely saw him. My father did win out on the choice of schools, but the delayed documents had yet to arrive. Scylla wouldn’t tell me more. I wondered if she just didn’t bother to follow through.

  I settled into my new routine—doing my chores, avoiding Judd and my stepmother, spending quiet time with the animals, and enjoying long talks with Daniel when he wasn’t taking care of Nathan. That was his main duty, but often when he was in the field watching the sheep, I’d join him.

  It had now been a long time since my father had been home. Did he love me? If so, how could he stay away for so many months that now stretched into more than a year?

  It was evening time and I had just returned with water from the well. Scylla called me into her private quarters. I set down the pail and walked past Nathan, who sat alone on the bench rocking and crying.

  Scylla’s voice was sharp. “Sit over there.”

  I grabbed the bench and plopped down on the edge. What was percolating in that dark mind of hers?

  “How dare you dishonor your father’s name, after all he’s done for you?”

  “What are you talking about?” I looked around, embarrassed for anyone to hear.

  Scylla held a drink in her hand and swayed as she addressed me. Her eyes were bloodshot. “You know what you did. I thought you were a lady. You’re a tramp of the worst kind.”

  “What?”

  “Judd told me about you and Daniel.”

  I stared at her. “What about Daniel? What are you talking about?”

  “All the time you spend in the cave, sneaking in when no one is around. He said Daniel has made you crazy. He hears you talking in there, nonsense stuff, as if you could talk to the animals. We know Daniel came from the asylum, and he needs to go back there. I dismissed him this morning.”

  “You what?”

  “I told him to pack up his stuff and get out of here. We don’t need a lunatic like that around here.”

  “I thought you liked Daniel.”

  She ignored me. “Do you know what they do to a woman with loose morals?”

  She didn’t wait for me to answer. “I know you’re from a distant country, but here they stone girls. Is that what you want?”

  I shook my head.

  “Word is out about you. I’d hate to see your splattered body sprawled out on the road. It would destroy your father’s reputation, cost him his job, and my inheritance—unless Judd gets it first. If I have my way, that won’t happen. I need to protect you. From now on, you’ll stay where I can see you.”

  “Judd gets what?”

  She didn’t answer me.

  I had no idea what she was talking about. So Judd convinced her I was a tramp though Daniel had never once been alone with me. Even in the cave, he always insisted the door be open—probably why Judd overheard too much.

  Scylla wanted to lock me up, as if I were a bird in a cage. I bet she’d get rid of me if I weren’t Brutus’s daughter. “Where is Daniel?”

  “He’s gone back to the loony house where he belongs.”

  “You mean to Doctor Luke?”

  She eyed me suspiciously. “How do you know him?”

  I ignored her question. “What about Nathan?”

  Scylla waved her hand in the air. “Judd can take care of him.”

  “Like he took care of the animals?” Though Daniel refused to admit it, I knew Judd’s care was just short of abusing them.

  Scylla clumsily set down her drink and stomped her foot. “I’ll not let you talk to me like that.”

  I fidgeted with the egg I still kept in my pocket.

  “You can’t even start school next week. Your application was rejected until we get your complete records, which your mother has refused to release. Doesn’t matter. I heard you were a lousy student anyway.”

  “I could study here on my own,” I offered.

  “If you were motivated enough. Your father is attempting to get an exception—he has the clout, he just doesn’t have the time to meet with the school officials.”

  “Are you done?” I asked.

  “As done as I’ll ever be.”

  I walked to the door. Nathan sat on the bench, tears streaming down his face. Why didn’t I ask Daniel more questions about my brother? How much did he know? Without a way to communicate with him, his thoughts would remain a mystery.

  I slid over on the bench and hugged him. Did my father care about Nathan? Scylla would never send word about how upset he was. Nathan must have overheard Scylla talking with Daniel when she fired him. Could my brother become violent if driven to exasperation? He was an annoyance to me when I first arrived, the guttural sounds he uttered because he couldn’t talk—now I squeezed his hand.

  Scylla’s fiery eyes bored holes into my back.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathan.” I whispered.

  He nodded.

  After climbing the stairs, I paused—the dark memory returned and taunted me again.

  Collapsing on the bed, I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders. Even though I wasn’t cold, I couldn’t quit shivering. Would I ever see Daniel again? Why hadn’t he said good-bye?

  I took out the two golden nuggets from underneath the covers and examined them. Strange how all the money in the world wouldn’t buy me what I wanted—to see Daniel again, escape from here, and have a sense of self-worth. Where was the king in all of this?

  The curse—that was it. I hated Judd. I conjured up images of knocking him down those stairs that haunted me. How could I get back at him?

  I turned over the golden nuggets in my hand. Even in the dark light of the moon, their beauty transcended the shadows. Were they magnificent because they were valuable or because they came from the king’s garden? I could use them for money and run away—maybe start a new life.

  And leave the animals here? I wanted to see my father one more time. If I ran away, I might never see Daniel, whom I fancied I love, again. I returned the golden nuggets to their safekeeping in the folds of the blankets. I couldn’t leave. I needed to say good-bye to Daniel. I got up, walked over to the table, and picked up the sheet of papyrus on which I’d been writing. I began today’s entry:

  “Dear Dog, why did you put me in this hole in the wall? What do you want from me? Why did you give me such a hateful stepmother? If it weren’t for Daniel and the animals, I’d be beside myself with grief. Please show me what to do. Show me you care.”

  I stood and peered out the small window. Where was the king of the garden? Did he return to his own kingdom or was he still out there? The hills spread out on the horizon as far as I could see.

  No, I wouldn’t leave. I wouldn’t give up. I would sneak down to the cave at night and visit the animal
s when Judd was asleep. It wasn’t like me to give up so easily. And there was no way I’d leave without seeing Daniel one last time.

  I composed more words from my thoughts as I walked back to the table:

  “Dear Dog, you must have a sense of humor. Who else would send me back in time to meet a rabbit, a dog, a pig, and a donkey? To a land where a powerful king roams like a pauper and a handsome young man has smitten me with love. So I’ve met my father, but what about you? Don’t leave me here.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Worldly Crow – Friend or Foe?

  Fever confined me to my quarters for the next three days. I lay in bed shivering one moment and sweating the next. The housemaid, Mari, was kind and brought me fresh water and comforting words. How could she live here and be so happy? Did she see the world through rose-colored glasses to hide something?

  “Your father will be happy to see you when he returns,” she said. “I must get you well.” She smiled and turned my head, patting my hot cheeks with a cool cloth. “If you ever need anything, you come to Mari. I’ll help you, okay?”

  I nodded.

  She sang a soothing song as she dried my face. Her melodic voice touched my soul as her sweet singing put me to sleep.

  Later that afternoon, Worldly Crow plopped on the window sill. “Ca-ca. How long are you going to feign sickness?”

  “What? I’m not pretending to be sick, you fool.” Indignant, I rolled over on my bed.

  “What should I tell your animal friends? They are worried about you.”

  “Tell them I’m fine and I’ll sneak down there to see them tomorrow morning.”

  “Sneak?” he repeated.

  “Yes. I’m not supposed to leave my room.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “Yes. My father.”

  The crow cackled several times. “You must think I’m a miracle worker.”

  “How about Daniel? Do you know where he is?”

  “He left. The witch ran him off, ran him off for good this time. Ca-ca-ca-ca.”

  I turned and faced him squarely. “Do you know where he went?”

  “I saw him head to the village where I met you with Baruch,” the crow cackled. “That was a delicious fish. Should go back and get another.”