The smell of smoldering wood greeted Michael in the early morning, and he could hear Leah moving around downstairs. Elizabeth had finally released her grip on his arm. He stood up slowly and quietly, so as not to wake her.
He crept down the ladder. He could see Leah kneeling, her hair tied up in the back, her mouth moving in silence.
Is she praying? Michael wondered as he moved closer to listen. But as he took a few more steps, Leah stood up.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were there,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I was just wondering what you were doing.”
“I was saying my morning prayers. Would you like to join me?”
“Um, hmm, no thank you. We really have to get back to town.”
Leah noticed the dried blood on his right foot. “Go outside where the light is better and wait for me. We should clean and dress the wounds on your feet.”
Michael hesitated momentarily, but decided she was right. He walked out into the bright morning sun, coming to rest underneath the fig tree, which provided him with some welcome shade.
Leah returned with a small bottle, cloth, and a shallow bowl of water. She knelt down to look more closely at his wounds, causing him to pull his feet away in embarrassment.
Looking up into his eyes, she gently placed his feet closer to her. After removing his sandals, she soaked a cloth in water and used it to carefully wipe away the crusted blood. Once the cuts were clean, Leah poured the ointment into her hands and began massaging it into his wounds.
Her hands feel soft, Michael thought, remembering how long it had been since a woman had touched him. He closed his eyes.
“Boy, that feels good,” he said, resting his head against the bark of the tree.
“Good. Just don’t move.”
“Dad?” a voice called out from the edge of the courtyard. Moving out into the full morning light, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of Michael and Leah under the tree.
“Dad!”
Michael stood up quickly, knocking over the bowl of water and jostling the ointment bottle from Leah’s hand. Elizabeth ran back into the house, climbing the ladder in haste.
“Let me get breakfast,” Leah said, retrieving the bottle before walking briskly back into the kitchen.
“Elizabeth!” Michael called as he hurried back to the ladder leading up to the second floor. He raced over to her bedroll, where she was sitting with her back to him.
“Elizabeth, are you okay?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder.
She flinched.
“I’m here. I told you I wouldn’t leave you again.”
She winced. “What were you doing with Leah?”
Michael slid down the wall to be near her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “She was helping me. My feet hurt so much when I woke up. They were bleeding. Leah offered to put some medicine on them.”
Michael pulled Elizabeth to her feet, guiding her gently to the dining mat.
She was quiet for a moment before asking, “Okay, so when are we leaving?”
Leah entered the room, averting her eyes. She was carrying what looked like pancakes in a shallow bowl. She poured some honey on top and handed it to Elizabeth.
“I know you like honey,” she said with a smile before walking away.
“Aren’t you going to eat with us?” Elizabeth asked, sitting with Michael on the dining mat.
“No. I should get the water,” Leah said awkwardly while climbing down the ladder.
After she left, Elizabeth picked up a pancake and offered one to Michael. “These are pretty good.”
“Really?” he asked with an incredulous smile. “Her cooking is that good?”
Elizabeth saw where this conversation was going. “No one cooks better than you, Dad.”
“Now, that’s my girl,” Michael said with a laugh.
“Let’s leave!” Elizabeth suddenly said with a burst of energy.
“Not so fast! We have to be careful. We need to talk to Leah about what time is best to leave.”
“Why?”
“She knows the town. I want to talk to her first about it.”
“Well, when are you going to talk to me about it?” Elizabeth demanded, bolting to her feet.
“Sit down. We are talking.”
A loud noise echoed below, startling both Michael and Elizabeth. They ran over to the small upstairs window overlooking the courtyard. Leah had fallen. She lay on the ground, holding her ankle and groaning. The jug had rolled over and was leaking water.
“Leah!” Michael shouted out the window. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer.
Michael hurtled down the ladder and ran out to the courtyard. When he reached her, he fell down beside her onto his knees. “Are you hurt?”
“I think it’s my foot.”
Michael pulled the jug upright before he lifted Leah from the ground. “Put your arm up over my shoulder,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Leah stared into Michael’s eyes. Her green eyes gleamed brightly in the sunlight. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he murmured.
From the second-floor window, Elizabeth saw him wink at Leah. Elizabeth disappeared quickly, reappearing momentarily in the courtyard beside them.
“Hey, Dad, come check out Cassie!”
“Not now, Elizabeth. Honey, can’t you see Leah is hurt?”
“Yeah, I can see . . .”
Michael helped Leah onto the stool in the kitchen before bringing the water jug in from the courtyard.
Catching his eye, she said quietly, “Thank you.”
Michael was embarrassed. “It was nothing. Anytime.”
Elizabeth came in closer, pulling on her father’s arm. “Aren’t we leaving?”
“Yes, of course.”
Leah stood up, wincing. “No, you mustn’t go now.”
“We are going,” Elizabeth interjected.
“Hold on, Elizabeth. What do you mean, Leah?”
She pointed outside. “While I was out getting the water, some neighbors told me of a man destroying the Temple. I think you may know of whom I speak. Yes?”
Michael shook his head, confused.
“Well, there are soldiers everywhere now. The Romans are upset.”
“Why do they care about a Jewish temple being destroyed?”
Leah took a deep breath as she sat to rub her ankle. “Because the man defiled the Temple built for us by the Romans.”
“You aren’t going to listen to this, are you?” Elizabeth asked, shocked that her father was just standing there pondering what Leah had said. “We have to get back now.”
Michael motioned to Elizabeth to walk with him out into the courtyard.
“What, Dad?”
“Come over here.”
Elizabeth obediently followed her father to the fig tree.
“Sit down.”
Elizabeth glared at her father. “Why are we sitting here talking when we could be getting back to the tunnel?”
“First, I need you to calm down.”
“I’m calm!”
“This is calm?”
Elizabeth sighed. “I’m calm, see?” she said, flashing a forced smile.
“I told you I thought I saw Jesus. He was on a donkey and people were placing palms in front of him. Yes, I know I couldn’t see his face because there were so many soldiers. But I saw the back of him. I could swear it was him.”
“No, Dad, not again,” Elizabeth said in a harsh tone, holding up her hand in protest. “We need to get back to the tunnel.”
“I know we do, but really, Elizabeth, if you had seen him riding through the crowd . . .”
Elizabeth shook her head, interrupting him. “You stopped to watch a man on a donkey?”
“I know what I did. But don’t you get it? We’re in Jerusalem. We got here through a tunnel. Isn’t this crazy? Look at the buildings, the Roman soldiers in the street.”
“You thought they were in a play.”
“Yes, yes, I did at first . . . but that doesn’t make any sense.”
“And saying you saw Jesus does?” she asked, dramatically raising her eyebrows.
Michael stood up and paced back and forth in front of the fig tree a couple of times. “I know it sounds out of this world. I know I’m the last person you think would believe it. But I thought I saw him. I thought I was at Palm Sunday.”
Elizabeth rose to her feet and hugged him. “I didn’t see it. We’re both confused. I just want to get home. That’s all I want. Why can’t we just leave now?”
Michael shook his head. “Oh, Elizabeth . . . we just can’t.”