Leah knelt on the mat, stunned by Michael’s sudden departure. The glow from the waning lamps suddenly felt too intense, too intrusive. She wondered if she appeared as foolish as she felt. The bowls and cups that had held such promise throughout the meal now were empty; sitting there alone, she felt solidarity with them.
“Oh, Michael,” she sighed softly.
Pulling herself smoothly to her feet, she looked out through the open window. Even with the moonlight, she saw little, which was exactly what she expected. The best view of the road was from her roof.
Resigned, Leah crept quietly to the ladder, glancing at the sleeping Elizabeth as she passed. She knew it was finally time to look, yet she struggled to find footing on the bottom rung. It had been so much easier with Michael here; she had felt almost drawn the other night. Tonight, every muscle fought her, and even her normally obedient hands needed extra guidance.
Instead of throwing her leg up onto the roof at the top of the ladder, Leah slid to her knees. She prayed silently for strength before rising to her feet. Her attention focused not on the balustrade to her right, or to the far side where she had shown Michael the view of the mountains, but to a spot immediately behind her. Then, as if in a trance, she glided there, stopping mere inches from the roof’s edge.
Her body grew still but her mind whirled, flooding her with images that she had long ago discarded. Over the past two years, she had refused to see the scene in its entirety. Glancing down now, she saw everything: the road, the spear, the soldier standing over his motionless body. Closing her eyes, she could hear the blood spill into his throat, so that his call for her was not muffled or breathy, but instead gurgled out of him.
But now with Yochanan everywhere around her, beneath her, and within her, her mind focused on the one thing that she had most feared. By letting it all come back to her, the chasm was open and she could recognize everything for what it was. No longer could she forget, no longer could she imagine. If everything has a beginning, middle, and end, what happens when the middle plays again?
How can I let Michael be here?
Elizabeth awoke with a mild headache and found her attempts to go back to sleep futile. She was thirsty and got to her feet to find a cup of water. “Leah?” she called, spying the glow from the lamps still lit on the dining mat beyond her.
With no light emanating from the kitchen below, and the courtyard dark and silent, Elizabeth climbed up the ladder to the roof. At first she thought it was deserted, but when she turned her head at the top, she saw Leah standing with her back toward her. “Leah?” she called softly.
Leah shivered once, her arms pulled tightly to her sides. She spun back, alarmed. “Yes?” she whispered breathlessly.
“What are you doing?”
Leah shook her head gently, her expression locked into a grimace. “Nothing.” She stepped toward Elizabeth. “Is your father back?”
Having pulled herself partially up onto the roof, Elizabeth stopped abruptly. “What? Where’d he go?” She scowled at Leah.
Leah hesitated. “Let me explain.” She walked to Elizabeth, offering a hand to help her up to the roof. They made their way to the balustrade, where Leah sat immediately; Elizabeth lingered a moment before sitting down next to her.
“Okay, now tell me what happened.”
Leah looked out into the night sky. “He left right after dinner, soon after he had moved you to your bedroll. We started talking and then he ran.”
“What did you say to him?”
Leah rubbed at her temples. “I don’t remember exactly. It seems very foolish now. I think I told him that he made me believe . . . although now I am no longer certain what in.”
Elizabeth frowned. “And he didn’t say where he was going?”
Leah shook her head.
“Oh, great,” Elizabeth said worriedly. “We’ve got to find him. It’s pitch-black out there. He could be lost.”
“I know,” Leah sighed. “It is not safe out there for him. But it is also not safe for us, especially you.”
“I don’t care about my safety,” replied Elizabeth, standing. “You should probably stay anyway—he is my father. I bet he went into the city. He seems confused—he told me he wanted to find my mom here somehow. He misses Mom so much.”
Leah was skeptical. “Why would she be here? How is Michael going to find her?”
“It would take too long to explain. But he believes someone he thought he saw could help him. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if he did or not. But he believes he did.” Elizabeth started toward the ladder.
Leah was unconvinced, but threw her hands up weakly in protest. “Elizabeth?”
“I’m going,” Elizabeth said as she stepped down onto the first rung, “even if it means I try this alone.”
Leah nervously fingered her robe, pressing it down around her knees. She sighed. “I will come with you, though. I do care about both of you.”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, a smile spreading across her face. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.
Michael first saw the undulating heat waves, wafting high in the sky, before he could make out the crowded fire pit below. As he drew near the edge of the sunken courtyard, he felt an enormous sense of relief: apparently, the man pursuing him had given up. His eyes focused on those lounging around the roaring flames: soldiers and villagers alike, seeking warmth in the night.
A cluster of soldiers were sipping some kind of hot brew while others were huddled together, whispering. Michael was aware that the darkness fully shielded him, yet he was worried about the inherent dangers of the crowd. These soldiers seemed almost tranquil, but he knew that could change in a second. He was strategizing how to get back to Leah’s when he felt the weight in his hand, realizing he still had Judas’ purse.
Oh, no, I’ve got the money! I’ve got to give this back. His mind whirled.
The soldiers stood abruptly, forming a tight pack as if an unheard signal had been sounded. They retreated back into the streets from the opposite side of the courtyard, leaving just a few villagers around the fire. Michael became determined to get rid of the silver, hoping one of them knew where he could find the bald man. He strolled quickly into the courtyard, stopping next to a man in a muddied robe, his hood covering the top of his head and the sides of his face.
“Excuse me, sir,” Michael said quietly. “I’m trying to find a man I met earlier. He was bald and wearing a purple sash.”
“Why are you asking me?” the man asked roughly.
“Well,” Michael stammered, “I have some money from one of the Rabbi’s followers.”
“You what ?”
“Shh,” said Michael, sitting quickly next to the man, their shoulders now touching.
Two townspeople swiftly moved to them. “What’s the problem here?” asked one.
“Nothing,” the hooded man replied.
One of the villagers looked at Michael and then at the man. He pushed the hood off the man’s head, exposing his face and neck. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, the man hadn’t slept in days.
“Weren’t you the man seen with Jesus?” the villager asked suspiciously.
“No.” The man shook his head in earnest.
“Are you sure you aren’t one of his followers? I thought I saw you with him.”
The man rose to his feet, his frame large and imposing. “I am not that person. I have never seen that man.”
Michael grew anxious. Fearing a confrontation, he quickly got to his feet and took off into the night. Only several seconds later, Michael recognized the screeching cock’s crowing as if it were an alarm. He let the weight fall from his grasp, the split pouch of coins cascading onto the stone ground below, ricocheting in every direction.