Everybody's Daughter (8 page)

Leah stroked Elizabeth’s hair with a wooden brush, smiling uneasily. ”When I am done, we should go.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “Can we wait until at least tomorrow morn…um, the next sunset? Until my dad comes?”

She stopped grooming her. “It is dark out. We will not go now. You should go at sunrise.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I don’t know where he could be. I was sure he would have been here by now.”

Leah held her shoulders. “We will leave after breakfast.” She pulled Elizabeth’s hair back. “You said your father wishes to marry me?”

“Yes. I don’t think he spent one day without thinking about you. He was always looking to find a way to come back here. He was so upset about leaving you behind.”

She rubbed Elizabeth’s back. “Are you sure he was coming to my house? This town?”

“I am. The opening was there again. My aunt said she saw him go down the tunnel and was talking about going to Jerusalem.”

Leah took a deep breath and sighed. “How long did he leave before you?”

“I don’t know. It couldn’t have been that long.”

Elizabeth turned around and saw Leah slump. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

“I love your father.”

Elizabeth hugged Leah’s arm. “I’m worried too. He’s always on time. I’m the one who is always showing up late.”

“Maybe he went back?”

“No. He would have come here first before leaving. He wanted to make sure you were safe. It’s all he talked about since we got back home.”

“Maybe he came when I was not here.”

“Were you out of your home for long?”

Leah pondered the question for several moments. “I am not sure.”

They sat quietly as she moved her hand from the middle of Elizabeth’s forehead to the back of her neck. Finally Leah spoke. “We will get up early and make sure you get home. If your father comes after you are gone, I will tell him you went back.”

“Will you go back with him, Leah?”

She winced. “Marcus is a merciless man who comes and goes. He is looking to avenge those who do not obey him.”

Elizabeth sat up, distressed. “Then this is no place for you to be. You must come back whether my father arrives or not. Come back with me.”

The tension in her voice was clear. Leah wrapped her arms around her. “It would be dangerous for me to go with you or with anyone, even your father.”

“Why?”

Leah took an extended breath again. “Marcus will avenge my departure. He will hunt down my brother and his wife and children. He drinks a lot and is violent. He will kill anyone he wishes.”

“Does he know where your brother and his family live?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, no.” Elizabeth rested her head against Leah’s shoulder. “Dad was right. He knew you were in trouble.” She paused and stood. “We have to do something. Can we go to the authorities?”

“What do you think they will tell a Jewish widow?”

“I don’t know. I read up a little about this time and the customs. But there’s only so much you can learn from a book.”

“I do not understand, Elizabeth.”

“Well, we have to think of something,” she answered with determination.

Leah shook her head. “Let us speak of other things.”

“Sure. It will take our mind off that horrible man.”

Leah smiled. “Do you like a man back home?”

“A man? Or a boy?”

Leah looked baffled. “A man.”

“Well, he’s not quite a man yet, although I guess he is a man for this town,” she said, smiling. “Anyway, his name is Matt.”

“Matt? That is a strange name for a man.”

“His full name is Matthew.”

Leah nodded. “Matthew. I like that name. Does your father know about him?”

“Well, sort of. He’s heard me talk about him but he doesn’t know we’ve gone out a few times. We’re mostly friends right now.”

“Friends? How can you be a friend with a man?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That’s something my dad would ask.”

Leah continued, “You did not answer my question.”

“I’m not sure how to answer it. I do like him enough but I don’t know how much he likes me, because he’s much older than I am.”

“How much older?”

“A couple of years.”

“What are years?”

Elizabeth paused for a few seconds. “There are three-hundred and sixty-five sunsets for every year. So he would be over seven hundred sunsets older than me.”

“That is not much older. Yochanan was many more sunsets older than me.”

“How old are you, Leah?”

She pulled back from Elizabeth. “Are you going to tell your father?”

“No. I promise.”

“Many more sunsets than you.”

Elizabeth laughed. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.” She smiled. “Around here I am considered old. Will you tell your father about Matthew?”

“I’ve tried. But he always changes the subject.”

Leah nodded. “I know why. He is worried about losing you. It is difficult for any father to see his daughter grow up and find a man. I know it was for my father. Be gentle with him. Men do not like to talk about what is in here.” She put her hand over her heart.

“Boy, I could really use you in Northport,” Elizabeth said with a wide smile. “It would be easier to explain my boy situation to him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He makes a face like this.” Elizabeth frowned and creased her eyes tightly.

“That looks like someone in pain.”

“Nah, it doesn’t hurt him. It’s his way of showing me he doesn’t approve.”

“When are you and Matthew getting married?”

“Whoa. Married?” She scrunched up her face. “Not for many more sunsets.”

“How many more?”

“Too many to count.”

“Your town has many strange customs.”

“Yeah, true. But this is one I agree with.”

“Will Matthew look for somone else if you do not marry him soon?”

“I doubt it. He’s too young to be married.”

Leah filled two cups of water and handed one to Elizabeth. “My mouth is getting dry from all this talking.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You do not have to be. I have not spoken to anyone like this since I sat on the roof with your father. It is with much joy we talk.”

“You enjoyed talking with my dad?”

“Yes.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Life. Our losses. Our loves. Our fears. Our hopes. Our dreams.”

Elizabeth went to the window.

“Move away from there,” Leah urged, and Elizabeth returned to the mat. “Maybe Matthew could be for you?”

Elizabeth shrugged, not really hearing the question.

Leah encouraged her with a tap on the shoulder. “Talk to your father about Matthew. He is easy to talk to once you find a way inside his heart. It may take a while but it will happen. But marry this Matthew.” She placed her hand again over Elizabeth’s heart and smiled.

Elizabeth shook herself out of the brief trance. “My dad is
not
going to let me marry Matthew. I’m way too young for that. Hey, I like calling him Matthew instead of Matt. Thanks.”

Relief healed Elizabeth’s heart as she continued to share her private emotions with Leah. Sure, she had close friends, but talking to Leah gave her a more comforting feeling. Without a mother, a confidant, someone with whom she could share secrets like this, she had always felt profoundly sad. Especially when her father emptied his heart, telling her about the night she was born – the night her mother died.

Perhaps it was her fate to battle life’s obstacles with her father at times, and other challenges alone. She wanted a longer conversation with Leah. She felt a bond with this woman, as if they had forged a covenant. Together they drank water in silence, and each sip seemed to solidify their alliance.

Elizabeth felt ready to ask the question that had been bothering her all night. “Has Marcus hurt you?”

Leah put her cup down, avoiding eye contact. “I am fine.”

“But that’s not what I asked. Did he hurt you?”

Leah stayed quiet.

“Tell me. I’m not a child. I can handle it.”

Leah reached over and brushed Elizabeth’s bangs away from her eyes. “I know you are not a child.”

“Did he hurt you?” she pressed.

“It is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern,” she said. “I love you.”

Leah stood and stared out the window.

Elizabeth joined her, wrapping her in a tight squeeze. Leah quivered.

“How did he hurt you?”

“I do not want to talk about it.”

“How bad did he hurt you?”

“After you and your father left and I tried to leave, he was furious. He hit me.” Elizabeth hugged her again. Leah pulled back with a cry of pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“My back. It is hurting again.”

“Let me see.”

Leah turned and lifted her robe. An angry red welt streaked across the middle of her back.

Repulsed at the brutality, Elizabeth gasped out loud.

“Is it bad?” Leah asked.

“Yes. Marcus did this to you, didn’t he?” Elizabeth felt anger she had never experienced before. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding,” She retrieved a cloth and noticed more blood on the back of the garment and Leah’s legs. “Oh no.”

“What is wrong?”

“I think you better stay still.” Elizabeth grabbed two more cloths from the dining area and hurried back.

Leah doubled over, holding her stomach.

Horrified at the sight of all the blood spilling onto the floor, Elizabeth tried not to throw up. She swallowed hard and knelt beside Leah, handing her a cloth.

“I will be fine,” Leah said. “This has happened before.”

It took Elizabeth a moment to fully understand what was happening. “You lost it.”

“I know,” Leah whispered. “We will need to bury him.”

Vendors hawking their products dictated the street’s vibrant pace. Women held small children’s hands, promising special treats as husbands haggled for the best price. The barking shouts from the business owners reminded Michael of the times he had attended art auctions with his friend Susan. Clusters of people seemed to move in unison from one storefront to the next as vendors boasted about their special deals.

How am I going to find Yochanan in this mess?

Michael strolled from market to market, dissecting each pile of shoppers while remembering Leah’s description and her tale about Yochanan’s marriage proposal.

He has a light blue robe, dark brown belt, black hair, brown eyes, and a scar on his right knee. He got the scar the night he proposed to me. He kneeled on the edge of a rock sticking up from the ground as he asked me to marry him. Oh, he was so brave and sweet, his knee was bleeding and he patiently waited for me to answer. But I was too distracted by his wincing and the blood pouring out of his knee. I asked him to let me help. He wouldn’t. He stayed down on his knee. I started to cry. I said yes, oh yes, Yochanan. Now get up and let me take care of my future husband.

Michael spotted a large group of men and women, some carrying small children, heading in the direction outside the city and toward the hills in the distance. He could see the stream of people, some with donkeys carrying the elderly, making their way up a long trail leading to a winding dirt road. As he shaded his eyes from the mid-afternoon sun to see if Yochanan was among the group, he caught up to the stragglers. One woman carried a sick girl, her legs badly bruised. An older man limped, guiding himself with a wooden cane but laughing, encouraging the youngsters to keep pace with him.

“Excuse me, sir?” Michael panted.

“Slow down son. Catch your breath. What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for a man named Yochanan. He’s wearing a blue robe, has black hair and a scar on his knee,” he said, pointing to his own. “Oh, and a brown belt.”

“I am sorry,” the old man replied. “I do not know.”

“Thank you anyway.” He pointed ahead. “Where is everyone going?”

“To see this preacher, Jesus of Nazareth.”

“Jesus?”

“Yes.”

“He’s alive?”

The man laughed. “He better be. Or I have taken a very long walk and got myself an earful from a bunch of young ones too.”

Michael realized that if he had traveled back at a time when Yochanan was still alive, this was a different time of Jesus’ life too, the period where He preached his important lessons.

This all makes sense now. Leah told me the first time I was here how Yochanan would follow preachers in the mountains. Maybe she was talking about Jesus. She said he was up in the hills looking for answers.

“May I follow you?” Michael asked. “I wouldn’t know how to find the preacher.”

“Yes. Let us see if you can keep up with me. If you have any trouble climbing these hills, I have a cane.” He waved it around and laughed. “Where do you come from? Not from here, I know.”

“I am from a place where the water surrounds the land.”

The old man touched his hand. “What river do you bathe in?”

Michael smiled. “Not a very big one.”

The old man looked mystified.

“My name is Michael and I come from Northport.”

“I have never heard of that town. Where is it?”

“Near a very big river. Where are you from?”

“Near Galilee. I am Saul.”

“How far is that from Jerusalem?”

“It is close to here.”

The crowd grew as Michael and Saul marched up the mountain, taking baby steps, circling a big rock or two obstructing the path, and navigating past a group of tall trees. Although frail from age, Saul possessed a spirited tongue as he told his life story. As he would pause, Michael would ask him questions, further fueling the elderly man’s exuberance about living in first-century Galilee.

“You’ve had an interesting life, Saul. How long have you been following Jesus?”

“I am not sure how much time has gone by. I am thankful I am able to remember where I am going today.” He winked. “I do remember the day when our town was filled with many people coming from towns near and far away. They were yelling and screaming in the streets. It was unlike any day I had ever lived.

“There was a big crowd celebrating a young couple’s wedding and they ran out of wine. I felt terrible for the man and woman. I saw a woman go up to this preacher, asking him if he could help and wondered how this man was going to help her. He looked like any other guest, except he was with several men, followers or relatives. I do not know. I could tell the woman’s request touched his heart. He had a look of concern. I believe he told the woman at first ‘it is not my time.’

“But there was something spiritual about him. The hurt on the woman’s face moved him. He started telling everyone to fill the jugs with water. When they were full, he told the bride and groom there was more wine. And there was.”

Michael stared, mesmerized. “Did you have a chance to drink any?”

Saul nudged Michael with his cane. “Yes. I did not want to be rude.”

“What did the wine taste like?”

“Unlike any cup of wine I had. My body felt warm, even hot like the sun was inside me. I felt a little dizzy too.”

The old man smiled, his grin revealing a missing tooth. “Maybe I had too much wine? I tell you some believed, some were thinking it was a trick. But I know I was glad to have that cup of wine.”

“So it wasn’t that miracle that brought you here today?”

“I guess it should. But it did not. I saw the Rabbi talking to a man. He was pleading with him. He told him he had come from another town, not far from Galilee. He was trying to get the Rabbi to come back to his town to help his son who was dying.”

“Did the Rabbi go with him?”

“No. The man was so upset. I wanted to go and help him. He was crying, begging the Rabbi for help.”

“So he didn’t help?”

“He did. He told the man to go back home. His son was alive and not sick anymore.”

“So you believed the Rabbi performed a miracle?”

“My son, there is no bigger skeptic than me. I followed the man and took that trip back to Capernaum. I wanted to see this miracle with my own eyes.”

“What did you see?”

“The boy was running around, laughing, playing with his friends. The father dropped to his knees, looked at the sky, and praised God. He cried and kissed the ground. When his boy ran into his arms, I started to weep myself. I asked one of the family members what happened. They told me the boy got up out of the bed in the afternoon and started playing.” He raised his voice. “A miracle. A miracle.”

Michael shook his head in astonishment. “I wish I was there. How did the town react?”

“It was unlike any other day in my long life. Women wept, men shouted with joy. People hugged each other.”

A chill ran up Michael’s spine. “What did you do?”

“I walked over to the little boy and hugged him. I did the same to the father and his family members. I asked the little boy how he felt. He told me he was sleepy at first, saw this beautiful bright light, and then he woke up and felt fine.”

Michael’s jaw dropped, unable to muster any audible words as he shook his head in bewilderment. Of course he had read these events in the Bible and had heard them in service, but to actually listen to a firsthand account rendered him speechless.

“I know I have lived longer than most, but my eyes do not deceive me even if my legs fail me at times,” Saul said.

“Did the boy’s father talk about the Rabbi anymore?”

“Whenever he could. I spent much of the day at this man’s house. I had to see if the boy was fine or if he had a temporary recovery. I have seen a few of those in my life. But the boy is truly well.”

Saul stopped briefly, catching his breath as they approached one of the steep inclines. “When you live as long as I have, son, you watch people’s faces more than you listen to their words. I will never forget the look on that father’s face when his son jumped into his arms.”

Saul wiped a few tears away with his sleeve. “I always get this way when I think back on that day.” He grinned again, his wrinkles stretching from the top of his cheekbones to the side of his chin.

Michael noted he looked more youthful when he smiled. It was reassuring to him, knowing Saul was comfortable in his later years, a subject that dogged him every day as he watched his daughter grow up.

“Did you see the rabbi after that day?” Michael asked.

“I did not. It is why I am here.” He stopped and lifted a gray eyebrow at Michael. “Is this not why you are here?”

He helped Saul up the hill, holding his arm, giving him a chance to steady himself on his cane. “I’m also here to help a friend.”

“You are a good man, Michael. Not many would travel this far to help a friend.”

Saul continued. “You talk strange for someone who is a strong follower of the rabbi. You use words that are familiar but they do not sound right.”

“I read a lot.”

“You are a wise man. Are you with much gold?”

“No. Not at all.”

Saul settled down by an abandoned rock, placing his cane to the side. A tree with several long branches gave the area some shade and soon the group of people he had been walking with joined him. The children were delighted now that the adults had stopped.

“How are you doing, son?”

“I’m achy,” Michael admitted.

“Do your legs hurt?”

“Yes.”

Saul laughed. “You young ones do not know how lucky you are.” He paused. “Is something troubling you?”

“It’s important I find Yochanan soon.”

“It will be difficult to find him in this crowd. Why do you think he will be here?”

“His wife told me he’s been going to the mountains to listen to preachers.”

“There are many preachers, Michael.” He leaned against his cane, his eyes steadily watching the children. “Come over here, children. Do you want to play a game?”

Smiling boys and girls skipped over to him, yelling, “Grandpa, Grandpa, let me play, let me play.”

“Quiet down,” he admonished them.

“What game are we going to play?” asked one little girl.

He raised his cane like a parent uses their fingers, placing it across his lips. They fell silent and stood at attention as Saul explained the game. “This is going to be the best game you will ever play.” The children squealed. He raised his cane again. “We are going to help my friend Michael here. Say hello to him.”

“Hello,” they shouted in unison.

Michael waved, uncertain how Saul and the children would be able to help. “He is trying to find a friend. I need you to stand up on the highest rocks you can find, climb the biggest tree and look around.”

“What does he look like?” asked the tallest boy.

“I am going to let him tell you about his friend.”

Michael smiled. “This is a great idea, Saul.” He turned to the group. “Children, he has on a blue robe and a brown belt. He has black hair and brown eyes and he has a scar on his knee.”

“What’s a scar?” asked the smallest boy.

Michael pointed to his scar above his right eye. “It looks like a mark like this.”

The children nodded to each other.

“What happened?” asked a boy with curly brown hair. “Did you fight a Roman? Did you beat him up? Did he hit you?”

“I got this from a hockey puck.”

“What is that?” asked a girl, giggling.

“Well, it’s this hard black rubber … hmm… it’s a long story. It doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you after we find my friend.”

The children gave him all their attention. “My friend’s name is Yochanan. Call out his name. If you find him, just come back and tell me where he is. Whoever finds him first, I’ll give you one of my coins,” he said, fingering his stash from the first time he had been to Jerusalem.

The children yelled with joy and Saul shushed them. “Michael, we are happy to help. We do not want any gifts, do we, children?”

“No, Grandpa,” several small voices said dejectedly.

“That is correct, my children. Now go off and help my friend.”

They scurried in different directions, chanting, “Mr. Yochanan? Mr. Yochanan?”

Michael smiled in amusement.

“Do not stand there,” Saul said. “You might walk around to see if you can find your friend too. You have a better chance with more eyes.”

“You’re so right, Saul.”

Michael milled through the crowd, focusing only on the males in the gathering. There were many of varying ages – some alone, several accompanied by their wives and children. The elderly struggled to take their final, energetic steps. Amazed by the size of the faithful, he found himself relishing the atmosphere, feeling the hope in the air, the anticipation and excitement of hearing Jesus speak.

He heard faint cries from the children, saw a few of them standing on their toes on some of the bigger rocks in the area, even admiring the biggest boy’s creativity of directing the others from a high tree branch.

I wonder what Jesus will say? Maybe he can help me find Yochanan? I can finally ask him about Vicki, and grandma, and–

“Michael, Michael. Look over there,” shouted Saul, who was inching his way toward him.

“Where?”

Saul gestured to the right with his cane. “Up that hill.”

A dark haired man in a light blue robe, fitting Leah’s description, trudged his way to a steep part of another trail.

“Much gratitude,” Michael said as he shook Saul’s hand. “Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“I hope so, son. If you ever visit Galilee, please come to see me.”

“I shall.”

He hurried toward the man in the blue robe, pushing his way through the stream of followers.

He looks like Yochanan but I can’t see his eyes or the scar on his knee.

Michael stopped, cuffed his hands together near his mouth and yelled, “Yochanan.”

The man didn’t respond, prompting Michael to shout his name once more.

The man finally stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Before he could turn around to proceed, Michael waved. The man gave him a befuddled look and resumed his trek.