Michael stood in Elizabeth’s bedroom and shut the slightly cracked window. “Tell me where you are, Elizabeth.”
“What’s going on up here?” asked Connie.
“Are you all right, Mike?” Allison asked, breathing hard from running up the stairs.
“I thought I heard Elizabeth’s voice,” he said.
“That’s your stress talking,” said Allison, giving him a stern look.
He stared at both women. “Why are you even here, Allison?”
“I’m worried about my goddaughter.”
“There’s no story here so why don’t you leave.”
“Can we hold off with the feuds for now?” Connie asked.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he said in a hopeful tone.
It’s got to be Elizabeth. She forgot her key. Let it be my daughter. Please, Lord.
He yanked the door open. “Jim? What the?”
Jim brushed passed him, the smell of whisky on his breath filling the air. “Don’t just stand there like a statue. Help me to a chair.”
“Why are you here?”
“Can’t I stop by and see my granddaughter?”
Michael helped him to the recliner. “She’s not here right now.”
Jim sat, groaning as Connie and Allison stopped short of joining them in the living room. “Connie? What are you doing here? And who are you?”
“I’m Elizabeth’s godmother in case you forgot, Mr. Stewart.”
“You are?”
“You don’t remember me? Vicki’s best friend, Allison.”
“Nope. Can’t say I do. Where’s Elizabeth?”
Michael waved them away. “Can you look upstairs and see if you can find anything with Lady Gaga on it?”
“Seriously?” Allison asked.
“Yeah, I’m serious. It may give us a clue if she’s still here.”
Connie shrugged and joined Allison who was heading upstairs.
He turned to his father.
Oh, Lord. I don’t need this today of all days.
Michael steadied his voice. “So, you found some time to come and visit us out here in the
boondocks?
”
“I’m a busy man. It’s hard to find time to sit in a car on the expressway all day long.”
“Right.” Michael clenched his jaw. “Too busy to come to one of Elizabeth’s birthday parties.”
“How is my granddaughter?”
Michael extended his hands in an unconvincing wave. “She doesn’t even know you.”
Jim rocked back and forth. “Well, it’s hard to take care of the house by myself since your mother died. Takes up a lot of my time these days.”
“That excuse is getting old. Mom’s been dead for twenty-five years.”
Jim pushed away a strand of gray hair from his eyes and grinned. He pointed to the paint on the ceiling in the far right corner that was chipping, inflated into a foot wide bubble. Stacks of newspapers rested in no particular order on the coffee table. “You’re just like me.”
Michael charged him like a soldier claiming a hill. “I’ll never be like you.” He withdrew, his wall of protection badly needing some bricks. So he headed to the kitchen looking for a corkscrew while his dad whined the battle cry.
“Get me some whiskey while you’re in there.”
Michael walked back to the room empty-handed and prepared himself for war. “You know, for someone who always told me it was too far to come out here to visit his granddaughter, it’s an awfully long trip to make for a glass of whiskey.”
Jim stopped rocking and shot back, “What right do you have to talk to me like that? In my day, my dad would wallop me in the face if I spoke like that.”
“You’ve laid your last hand on me. Why are you here?”
Jim took a deep breath. “I’m sick.”
“You just asked me for a drink. How sick can you be?”
“Could be serious if I don’t get help.”
“Then get help.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You have to help me.”
“I have to?”
The old man nodded. “Yes, you have no choice.”
Michael slapped his forehead. “Unbelievable. You can’t drive out here to visit with your motherless granddaughter, but you have no problem waltzing into my home and demanding I help you.” He grunted in anger. “What a piece of work you are.”
Jim stood and walked slowly over to him. “I may need a bone marrow transplant. You might be a match. I need you to come with me and see if you are.”
“Is it a life and death situation right now?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I’m not going anywhere. I have to find Elizabeth.”
“You can look for her after we’re done.” Jim yanked on his arm. “I’m your father. You’re going to do what I say.”
“I’m a father too. And I’m doing what a good father does. I’m looking for my daughter. If you want to help, great. If not, go home.”
Leah slipped into a light doze, occasionally waking when Elizabeth flinched or moaned. She lay on top of her pillow and blanket, holding onto her brother’s weapon. Her dream took her to a world where Yochanan and Michael courted her, though she could never figure out where she devoted her real love.
They took her on trips to the mountains, finding a soft-sounding stream, a chance to hold each other and talk. Her subconscious visions were in places far away from the city, the shops, and the crowds, a time to enjoy the natural beauty and majestic features of her world.
Leah clung to her subliminal state for as long as possible. She took serene, slow breaths, relishing the man’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, the smell of his two-day old beard, and the touch of his hair. While she couldn’t distinguish whether it was Yochanan or Michael, or any other man for that matter, she was blissful to be in this place for just a little while.
“How are you?” a woman asked, disrupting her harmony.
“Oh. It is you, Sarah. I am tired. Why are you here?”
“I am here to see how you and your friend are feeling.”
“I am fine. She is not. I do think I did stop the bleeding.”
“I think I might be able to help,” Sarah said.
“How?”
“I know of a man who might be able to heal your friend. My neighbor Paul travels far and often. He told me about his friend who helps the sick.”
Leah stared at Elizabeth. “I do not know how we would get her to travel. How far would we have to go?”
“Not far. He was last seen in Bethany.”
“Who is this healer?”
“A preacher, a rabbi. His name is Jesus.”
Leah was baffled. “The man who was killed on a cross not too long ago? How can it be this man you speak of?”
“This is what my neighbor told me. He said he has seen this preacher heal many sick children, the old and the lame.”
Leah rose and poured water out of the jug, rinsing another piece of cloth. She removed the soiled one that nurtured Elizabeth’s head and smiled. “Sarah, look, the bleeding has stopped.”
She placed the fresh cloth around the gash and rested her head back on the bedroll. “She is still badly injured. I must get her to Bethany to try and find this preacher. I cannot wait much longer as we are all in danger if Marcus returns.”
Sarah nodded. “I remember what you told me. I have not said a word to anyone.”
“What about your husband?”
“I have not spoken to him about this.”
“You may have to tell him now.”
“Why?”
“We need his help to get my friend to Bethany.”
“Are you sure you want me to tell Jeremiah?”
She nodded, then leaned down to feel Elizabeth’s forehead. “She is still with a fever. This is not good.”
Leah filled a cup and lifted Elizabeth’s head. She opened her mouth and poured some water, prompting Elizabeth to cough a little. “Can you hear me?”
“Leah?” Elizabeth said in a weak voice.
She patted her cheek gently. “Yes, my child.”
“Where am I?”
“You are in my home.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“I do not know.”
She let out a small cough. “I want to go home.”
Leah gave her a couple of more sips of water. “We are going to try to get you home. But you must first get stronger. Can you get up to walk?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
“Should I get my husband?” asked Sarah.
“Yes. Quickly.”
Leah continued to give Elizabeth water when she opened her eyes. Elizabeth swallowed and coughed as she drank. “What happened to me?”
“You fell off the roof. Do you remember how it happened?”
“I remember the soldier. Nothing more.”
“You had a terrible fall. You hit your head on the ground. You have a bad wound.” She wiped around Elizabeth’s mouth where water had spilled. “How do you feel now?”
“Awful. My head is hurting so much.”
She groaned as Leah placed her head down. “You must get your rest, Elizabeth. We will have to go on a trip to get you the help you need.”
Leah gathered up a few travel items, collecting weaving needles to use as weapons, two of her favorite robes, two bedrolls, some food, and a small blanket that used to lay in the crib. As she finished packing the supplies, she stared out the window at the courtyard and fig tree. She stood silent, misty-eyed at the thought of leaving her adored home, where she had loved and lived for many sunsets.
Sarah and Jeremiah arrived as she came down the ladder.
“I have a strong donkey,” he said. “The animal can carry your friend but you must walk beside her. I will walk on the other side. The trip is a short one, not many steps. Once we are there, we must leave. Sarah told me about the injured Roman soldier. They will come back for revenge. We will all be in danger.”
Leah agreed and packed up more wet cloths, placing one on Elizabeth’s forehead and another on her wound. She tightened it like a bandana.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and attempted to lift herself. “It hurts.”
“You must be strong. We must travel now. Marcus could be coming back.” Leah put her hand underneath Elizabeth’s back. “Try now.”
She was able to sit up slightly.
“Jeremiah, can you bring the donkey in here?” Leah asked.
“Sarah,” he called out. “Bring the animal in.”
“Stay strong, my child,” Leah said.
“What about my dad?” Elizabeth’s breathing was shallow. “Where is he?”
Leah saw the agony in her face and realized Elizabeth might not want to leave with them. So she did what any mother would do for the sake of her child’s health and safety – she lied. “He is at your home waiting for you. We must get you healed so you can be with your father.”
“How do you know?”
“A friend told me she saw him go back to the city and leave. He did not know you were here so he left. He is probably most worried about you. Let us help you get better so you can join him at home.”
Elizabeth attempted a weak smile. “Okay.”
Sarah walked the donkey into the bedroom and Jeremiah used his big forearms to lift Elizabeth up, then placing her on the animal. “Steady, steady,” he said, gesturing to Leah to hold her in position.
“That hurts. My leg feels awful. I can’t move it.”
“My neighbor knows someone who can heal you. We are not far from where he was last seen.”
“Is he a doctor?”
“No. A rabbi.”
“How is a rabbi going to help me?”
“We have heard stories about him helping the sick and hurt.”
Elizabeth winced. “I don’t care what he is. If he can help me, let’s go.”
Leah handed Sarah the basket of items she had collected and gave Samuel’s spear to Jeremiah. “We may need this.”
He nodded. “Let us move as quickly as we can. There is more light coming.”
Leah stayed beside the donkey, keeping her arms around Elizabeth as she wobbled sideways on the animal.
Jeremiah kept his one free arm steadying her other side while looking upward at the threatening clouds. “We may be walking into a storm,” he said, pointing to the pitch black sky.
“How are you feeling, my child?” Leah asked.
“I’m woozy. My leg has a bad pain and I still have a whopping headache.” She gave Leah a sideways glance. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because you are complaining and using those strange words again. Woozy and whopping.” She let out a small laugh. “I now know you must be getting better.” Leah held on to the last bit of hope left in her heart.
The bandage around Elizabeth’s head loosened from the first leg of the trip, so Leah pulled it off and felt the wound with her hand. Blood stained her fingers. “Sarah, I need another cloth.”
Leah wrapped the protective piece tightly around her head.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip. “That hurts.”
“I am sorry. But I need to do it this way.”
“We are not far from Bethany,” said Jeremiah.
“Sarah, how will we know where to find the rabbi?” Leah asked.
“I will ask once we get to town. He is said to travel with a group of men and sometimes a woman.”
There was a group of homes in the distance, surrounded by small and high hills and mountains outlying the perimeter. Leah absorbed the scenery in front of her and thought briefly how wonderful it would be to live in such a peaceful town.
They stopped at the edge of the neighborhood, resting by a well. Leah and Sarah cupped their hands and drank some water. The smell of porridge wafted through the air and the sound of children and families waking up could be heard.
“I will go and ask about the preacher,” said Jeremiah.
He introduced himself to several people, including an elderly man, accompanied by a silver-haired woman. He pointed to the far hills, a good distance from where they were now. Jeremiah made a gesture of gratitude and returned.
“He was last seen up there,” he said, pointing to a steep climb as the clouds thickened more near the highest hill.
“How do we know if he is there or not?” Leah asked.
“They do not know for certain. They said that they saw him go up there with a group of men. They saw the men come down before the sun set but the preacher was not with them. So everyone in the town believes he is still up there, perhaps praying.”
Elizabeth started to close her eyes.
“Stay awake,” Leah implored as she pulled the bandage as tight as she could. “We have to go now.”
Sarah cast doubt. “It is a long way up the hill. How do we even know the rabbi is there? How do we even know what my neighbor said was true?”
“You say this now, Sarah?”
“I worry.”
“I need to go,” said Leah, convinced that her trip was wise. “He may be the only one who can help now.” A loud bang erupted from above as a heavy rain flooded the ground. “Go back,” she told Jeremiah and Sarah.
“No. We will go too,” Sarah responded.
“I’m feeling strange,” Elizabeth said.
“How, my daughter?” Leah asked.
“I can’t feel my arms and legs. I can’t move my fingers.”
“We will get you to this preacher.”
“Oh God, Leah, I can hear you but can’t see you. What’s happening?”
“No, my daughter. Stay with me. Do not go.” Leah remembered Yochanan’s last words, much like Elizabeth had just spoken. Her heart sank.
Elizabeth gasped for a deep breath. “Leah, tell my father I’m sorry. I bought the Lady Gaga ticket. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have…left on the lights.”
Leah rubbed her arms and then her legs. “No. No. You are not leaving me. Yochanan left me. My daughter left me. Michael left me. I am not going to let you leave me. No. No.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“I will not let you,” Leah shouted. “Preacher, where are you? My daughter needs your help.”
“Leah, I feel weird. Tell my dad I love him. Tell him.” Elizabeth closed her eyes.
“No. Open your eyes. Listen to me.”
“Hold me, Leah. Hold me, Mom. I’m scared.”
She hugged Elizabeth.
“Don’t leave me, Leah.”
“I will not,” she said. “Do not go. We will find the preacher.”
“Tell dad. Tell him. Tell him I …”
Leah pushed Elizabeth’s eyes open. “Look at me. Do not leave me.”
The wind howled as they reached the top of the terrain, prompting all three of them to shield their faces with their hands against the driving rain. The pace slowed and Elizabeth lost consciousness, the cloths now drenched in fading red moisture. Leah protected Elizabeth’s face with her body.
Sheets of rain slapped the trees, bushes and ground, drenching Leah’s back. “Wake up. We are here,” she repeated over and over. The top of her head was soaked. She let a stream of water run down her nose and onto Elizabeth’s face, hoping it would shake her from the slumber.
Sarah and Jeremiah leaned against each other, holding hands. “May God be with her,” said Jeremiah.
Leah refused to concede, picking Elizabeth’s head up in a merciful plea as the rain dripped from her eyebrows. “Where are you, preacher?” she called out, her voice trembling. “Help my child.”
She glanced at her friends hoping they would have an answer. They hung their heads on each question while Sarah meshed her face into Jeremiah’s wet garment. “My God, protect Leah’s friend,” he said. “May you have mercy on us all.”
They wrapped their arms around Leah in an effort to pull her away from Elizabeth.
“No. I will wait for the preacher.”
“He is not here,” said Jeremiah.
She pushed them away.
“Do we know where her family is?” he asked.
“I only know from where she came, a gateway or alleyway somewhere in the city of Jerusalem, near a fruit stand. I do not know how far it would be to travel to her home.”
“It would be dangerous for us to go back that way,” responded Jeremiah, wiping the moisture away from his eyes.
“Her father must be told what has happened to his daughter,” said Leah. “I do not even know if we can find her home.”
“Was she of our faith?” asked Sarah.
“She believed in God. But I do know they had other customs.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Oh Leah, I do not know what to say or what to do. But I do know we must not stay here any longer.”
“I am not giving up. Help me, Jeremiah.” Together they pulled Elizabeth off the donkey and laid her on the ground. Leah staggered a few steps in each direction, then stopped and shouted out for the preacher. The drops doused them harder and she fell to her knees, weeping. Leah lay her head on Elizabeth’s chest and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“You have many more sunsets to see, my child. You never did tell me whether I can meet your Matthew. I hope you let me see him.”
She looked skyward, letting the storm butcher her face. “My heart is yours. Oh God, please let my heart beat inside Elizabeth. God, let my soul strengthen her spirit.” A laser like light lit the side of Elizabeth’s face. When Leah spun around to tell Sarah and Jeremiah, a man with his head covered in a white robe appeared, his garment dry and untouched. Startled, Leah gasped. “Who are you?”
“I am here to take Elizabeth home.”
“You know where her town is? Can you find her father?”
“I do.”
Leah wiped moisture away from her eyes with her sleeve. “Are you the preacher?”