Necessary Heartbreak (26 page)

Catching her eye, Michael whispered to Elizabeth, “I'll be right back, honey.”

He followed Leah down the ladder, noticing at the bottom that she was holding her head.

Leah turned to face him. “Michael, I'm really sorry. I'm worried about Elizabeth.”

He recognized the strain in her face. “Leah, please, she's going to be fine. I'll speak to her this morning while you are at the market. Plus, she'll be really relieved when I tell her you're going to scout out the tunnel.”

After watching Leah leave through the front gate, Michael took a deep breath and reentered the house. “Elizabeth?”

She came downstairs with the bowls from breakfast.

“What's up, Dad? Where's Leah?” she asked, depositing the bowls in a pail of water near the fire.

Michael forced a smile before turning to Elizabeth. “Honey, Leah's going to the tunnel for us! She's checking it out to make sure there aren't any soldiers. We could leave in a few hours, maybe.”

“That's awesome!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Wow, I should feed Cassie quick so that we're ready to go when Leah gets back.”

Michael winced uncomfortably. “Honey, I don't know if you should worry about that.”

“Are you kidding? I want to feed her one last meal before I go.”

Michael reached over, touching her cheek gently. “Elizabeth, I want to be honest with you. You know, today starts Leah's religious holiday. You're old enough for me to tell you things like this now: the lamb is going to be taken to Temple this afternoon.”

“For what?”

“The lamb is part of Leah's tradition. It will be offered up for sacrifice.”

Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. “You mean Cassie is
really
going to be killed? I just thought that after Leah saw how much I liked her—how much I
love
her—that it would be different.”

“She's a lamb, and here a lamb is—”

“You mean
Cassie
, right, Dad? You can say her name.”

Michael nodded.

“Let me see her,” she said, storming off past Michael out to the front yard where Cassie was grazing. She hugged the lamb, then started to run toward the front gate.

“Elizabeth, please . . . get back in here!”

“No! If we're leaving, why can't we just take her?” She ran a few steps, stopped, ran a few more steps, and stopped again. Each time she paused, she looked back at the lamb, frustrated that Cassie wasn't following.

Michael ran to her, pulling Elizabeth gently into his chest. “It'll be okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, “but why did I have to know?”

The maze of streets was bustling with activity. Many women were out anxiously buying the proper foods for the evening's feast. A few neighbors acknowledged Leah, who glided past at a brisk pace, basket in hand as she respectfully nodded her salutations.

The excitement of the festivities was bittersweet for Leah; images of Yochanan occupied her thoughts. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been with her, inspecting honey pots and dried roots, smiling at her and her ballooning pregnant belly that even her long robe could no longer conceal. He had offered every item of produce he had selected to her for final approval. Back then, he was the one easily shouldering the ungainly basket that was now weighing her down. These memories, combined with the growing anxiety of trying to help Michael and Elizabeth, sent Leah's emotions spiraling in every direction.

Although she had gathered everything she needed, Leah was overwhelmed by a sense that something was still missing. Of course, the leafy lettuces, handful of nuts for the charoset, and spicy roots were sufficient. Mentally, she knew her list was complete. Yet something felt just beyond her grasp, waiting in the mist of her thoughts to be plucked out and examined. She decided to circle the market stands again, hoping the walk would jar her out of this odd reverie.

As she worked her way around the jostling, frenzied crowd, she suddenly realized with startling clarity what was troubling her. Yochanan might be everywhere today, but for her, the thought of him was now tied to someone else, another man: Michael.

She stopped abruptly and immediately felt a woman's hand on her back. They apologized to each other silently, a raised hand in forgiveness, a concerned smile. But all of it made Leah feel guilt and remorse. It was easier to focus on Elizabeth, and in doing so, she decided to pursue one more purchase.

She cut into the current of the crowd and headed toward a stand of plump melons. She felt sympathy for Elizabeth, abandoned in this world, a sensation that Leah understood all too well. Now with the
sacrifice of the lamb—the name
Cassie
came to mind, but Leah fought to repress it—Elizabeth would be even more isolated. Leah picked up a melon in the front, purposefully concentrating on everything else but how Yochanan would thump them with his thumb. She settled on a medium-size one. She guessed it was eight or nine pounds, bigger than the usual.
I've got more mouths to feed this year
.

Her mind turned back to Michael, and the task that lay ahead. From the afternoon of their first encounter, she remembered where the tunnel was and mentally charted a course to it. As each step brought her closer, she found herself wondering what it would mean to have them leave. She had certainly felt the anxiety of harboring people who some would consider outlaws or even possible criminals. And Michael's physical nearness had at times made her feel uncomfortable. Yet there was no denying that they had given her a new mission, a goal that provided her solace for the first time in years. If they could freely leave her, then where would it actually
leave
her?

She walked the remaining three hundred yards until she was at the corner of the alley on which the tunnel was located. She slowed, instantly alert to any signs of soldiers. She drew nearer to the building on the corner and peered around its facade. After a few moments of waiting for the crowd to thin, she was finally able to spy the series of grates. A white cloth was tied on the arching bars over one near the center.
There it is, like he said!

But then she realized a soldier was to the left of the tunnel's opening. He was leaning comfortably in the shade of the stucco wall, perfectly at ease, with the appearance of a man waiting for a friend. She wondered if this was the man Michael feared: he was dressed in the traditional uniform, yet he could have been anyone. But then on the ground next to him she saw his helmet with a remnant of Elizabeth's shirt still affixed to it and knew he was the one.

As she stared at him, another feeling coursed through her, one that she couldn't decipher. Something about him resonated with her, but still, every soldier was a threat. As she tried to shake off her unease, she noticed another soldier walking toward her, his eyes thankfully
averted. Leah stepped back, ducking into the darkness of a recessed doorway, pinning her back against its interior wall. She let the basket slip down her frame, coming to rest on the ground. Sheltered from view, she listened with keen interest as people passed by, failing to notice her slim shadow projected obliquely on the opposite wall.

Through the din of the crowd, Leah could hear the two soldiers greeting each other. Being part of the military, they were gallant and loud, their voices carrying over the rumble in a way that no villager would ever dare to emulate. They were complaining about Passover and how the need for surveillance brought them back again to this city. They obviously abhorred this duty, and their annoyance was tangible. As they spoke, a clanging, rhythmic sound of metal hitting the cobblestones cut through the air. Leah shivered. The blunt end of one of their deadly spears was repeatedly striking the ground, as if in boredom. She concentrated in earnest, trying to filter their speech through the metallic sound.

“Yes, I've been waiting here for a few nights now,” said one man.

The other man laughed. “How long do you plan to stay?”

The clink of metal striking stone obscured the man's response. Then the noise stopped, as if something else had drawn their attention; Leah prayed it wasn't her.

“I'll find that woman.” The first man's tone was even and dry.

The other man snorted. “You always do.”

They both chuckled in unison. “You know me too well, my comrade.”

Something in the voice was eerily familiar to Leah, and she felt a rush of panic. It was as if a door were opening from within while she struggled to hold it closed.

She slid away from the wall and took a quick glance out into the street. Their backs were to her. The first soldier was holding the spear, turning it into the mortar between two paving stones. He raised it nearly a foot before letting it drop through his hand to the cobblestones below, catching the shaft again when it rebounded upward. It had a sharper sound this time.

“I'll find that woman by finding that man,” said the first soldier. “Are you with me?”

“Of course,” the other soldier replied. “I owe you a favor, Marcus.”

“That's right,” the voice echoed back.

It is him
. Leah's knees buckled and her stomach lurched as she felt transported back. She remembered the view from her rooftop, her excitement tangible at Yochanan's return, then cut short by the horrific scene that played out before her: Yochanan slumped in the street, blood everywhere. The soldier before him that night with the crimson-tipped spear was the same jovial one leaning by the grate before her now. She vomited on the ground in front of her, fearing that they would hear her retch. As she pulled her body back, only one thing shook her:
How can Michael not recognize him?

Leah grabbed her basket from the ground and stepped over the puddle of vomit. She edged to the corner, determined to make her escape. As she did, the one she now knew as “Marcus” glared right at her. She bowed her head in respect but, with her heart pounding, stepped out too quickly in her attempt to blend in with the crowd. She glanced back quickly and saw Marcus pointing at her, his head bent in speech toward the other soldier. She forced a smile again, then joined a group of women walking in the opposite direction, toward the city wall. She tried in earnest to engage them, all the while her mind racing.

Yet only one thought remained constant:
He's coming after me now!

Elizabeth spent the entire morning petting the lamb and fingering its tightly wound curls. At times, she would place her head against the back of the lamb's neck, her face mixed with both anger and hopelessness.

Watching Elizabeth, Michael once again felt helpless in this other world, unable to save the lamb and ease his daughter's pain. He
thought about kidnapping the lamb and telling Elizabeth to make a run for the tunnel. But he knew this was reckless and disrespectful to Leah, particularly after the risk she was taking at the moment to help them.

How can I not say good-bye to her?

Michael walked over to Elizabeth and gently rubbed her back. “I'm sorry, sweetie.”

“Can you tell Leah to stop this? She'll listen to you.”

“I tried, Elizabeth. I really did. It's a special holy day for her. And this is how they celebrate, much like we celebrate by eating turkey on Thanksgiving.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Daddy, I love Cassie. Would it be so bad if we just took her with us?”

Michael leaned over to hug Elizabeth. “I know Cassie means a lot to you but she belongs here, and it's not our place to interfere.” He stroked her back, noticing a tear roll down her cheek. “Please, don't get upset. You know how it upsets me when you cry.”

She pulled away. “Sometimes, Dad, I just need to cry. Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes, it's okay,” he whispered in her ear, reaching down to hold her hand.