Necessary Heartbreak (8 page)

He reached into his right pocket and found a couple of quarters. Michael dug into his left pocket and found only some tissue paper. He wiped his misty eyes and stared straight ahead. Most of the parishioners had filed out of the church. Others were lighting candles, while some were chatting with friends in the back.

It had been a couple of days since he had had a chance to close his eyes. Michael mainly got his rest ten minutes at a time, when the E train moved into the tunnel from Queens to Manhattan, affording him a break between stops.

He sank gratefully against the back of the pew, then jumped forward, startled, when he caught himself snoring as he began to doze. But there was no one around. Slowly his body began to relax. Peace . . .

Thump! Wham!
The noise startled Michael awake. He lifted his head up, banging it against the back of the pew. “What the . . . ?”

“Church is not for sleeping,” an old lady sternly lectured Michael. She walked back toward the candles, lighting them, and placed some coins into a box. Michael stood up and glared at her but she didn't notice. He staggered out of the pew and made a direct line toward her. Too late. The lady walked out the front door and down the steps.

A light rain had begun, wetting Michael's head. He sat down on one of the steps and buried his face in his hands.
Mom, I need your help. Oh, why, God? Oh, why? I don't have anywhere to go. Oh, God, why . . . why . . . is there anyone out there who can help me?

Michael let the rain hit his unwashed hair.
No better way to get it clean, right?
he thought sarcastically. Drips of water fell from his hair, gently removing the crust that had built up in his eyes. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his soiled jacket, forcing him to spit out some grains of dirt from his lips.

He put his head down again, allowing the big drops to slide down the back of his neck. He shivered.
I've got nowhere to go. Nowhere
.

The woman in the black veil easily navigated the bustling, congested streets, and Elizabeth followed closely behind. The roads were unlike any she had seen back in Northport. They were paved entirely of stone yet still dusty, and already her legs were aching from walking on the uneven surface. People were milling about, chatting and laughing with marketplace owners. Despite the strangeness of her surroundings, it felt like a carnival to Elizabeth, as if she were back in Northport at the Firemen's Fair in the Pit. There were no midway games or rides, but a variety of foods and items were being sold on both sides of the street.

The scene was so chaotic and absorbing, especially under the veil, that Elizabeth almost forgot that she was holding the hand of a complete stranger. Her thoughts flew to her father and she stopped abruptly. Leah, a few steps ahead, unintentionally yanked her hand. “Please,” Leah begged, “we must get you back. There's no time. You have to show me exactly where you came from.”

Elizabeth looked all around, her eyes now focusing on not just movement but the myriad of buildings surrounding them. She quickly pulled her hand away from the woman. “It's over there,” she said, pointing to a fruit and vegetable stand about thirty yards away.

“By that marketplace?”

Elizabeth nodded. The woman walked a few paces ahead, but when Elizabeth stopped, the woman turned around.

“Why are you stopping? We're almost there. We can get you home now. Hurry. You're in danger.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “My father is in more danger.”

“But the soldier, he'll come for you if you don't leave now.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I don't know anything about any soldier. I'm not going home until my father is with me.”

Leah walked back to Elizabeth and spoke urgently. “You are obviously from another place. There isn't much a woman can do to help. The Roman soldiers are brutal and vicious. They know you helped a murderer who killed one of their own. Every step you take and every day you spend here will only bring you more risk.”

“I don't care about what you think or what they think of women in this town. I'm not going without my father!”

They stood in silence and looked at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. Then Elizabeth relented, her eyes glistening with a new round of fresh tears. “Can you help me? Please?”

The woman glanced back at the tunnel's entrance. She hesitated a moment, then turned back to Elizabeth and nodded. “I'll try to help you in any way I can.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She paused, then smiled uncomfortably. “You know, um . . .”

“I am Leah. And you are Elizabeth? Did your father not speak of me?”

Elizabeth shook her head, puzzled, yet certain that this woman must have heard her father call her by name earlier.

“Elizabeth, let me get you something to eat and drink. Then we can discuss what we should do.” Leah reached out her hand in a display of friendship, and Elizabeth took it with some apprehension. They started toward the fruit stand across the street.

“What kind of a place is it where my father is being held?”

“It's a place where they hold people before they are put on trial. And there are many soldiers.”

They both stopped walking. The breeze picked up slightly; even though it relieved some of the heat that had bothered Elizabeth only moments ago, it had a chilling effect. She turned around resolutely and began walking back. Leah followed behind. She noticed that Elizabeth was looking up at the sky and then putting her hands to her eyes.

“Oh dear,” Leah said, walking quickly alongside the teenager. She wrapped her arm gently around her shoulders, but Elizabeth pulled away.

“I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“It's all my fault,” said Elizabeth, her eyes red.

“It's not your fault. You were only trying to help someone in need.”

“But if I hadn't gone into the tunnel . . . and if I didn't run out to help that man . . .”

Leah patted Elizabeth's back reassuringly. “Come with me. Let's get something to drink and eat. You'll feel better.”

“No.”

Leah frowned. “I'll take you to the prison. Then perhaps we can find out more about your father. But first, why don't we get you something to drink.”

She guided them to a nearby well, where she cupped the water in her hands.

Elizabeth pulled back in disgust. “Aren't there any cups or anything? My hands are really dirty.”

“You can rinse them first.”

Elizabeth peered at the water. It looked cloudy. “You drink this?” she asked doubtfully.

“What else is there?”

Elizabeth hurriedly poured some water on her hands, hoping that it would wash away the dusty grime. Even though it was warm, she was overcome with thirst.
Oh, well
, she thought. She gathered the water in a tight clench and downed it in three quick gulps.

Leah grinned. “My, you were thirsty. Do you want something to eat?”

Elizabeth scanned the many marketplace storefronts. She spotted a stand selling what looked like miniature watermelons. “That looks interesting,” she said halfheartedly.

Leah smiled. “Let's go.”

It was only a few yards across the street. A woman had just bought a piece for a little girl, who giggled while taking her first bite. Elizabeth was ecstatic to see that it was indeed her favorite summertime fruit. Leah handed the vendor a couple of coins and bowed. Elizabeth
bowed, too. She munched heartily and quickly finished off the large piece as Leah watched in delight. “You were hungry, too,” she said with a faint smile. “Would you like another piece?”

Elizabeth shook her head and wiped her mouth. “No, I'm fine now, thank you.”

Leah adjusted her veil slightly, covering more of her face. Elizabeth did the same.

“Our path to the prison is not a safe one. You must stay close to me and keep your head down. Do you understand me?”

Elizabeth nodded as Leah began to lead the way again through the labyrinthine streets. The older woman seemed anxious. When she next spoke, it was with urgency. “Remember, when we get there, don't look up until I tell you.”

“Do you have a plan?” Elizabeth whispered from beneath her veil. She noticed the slight variations in color of the stones in the road; from this angle, she could see little else.

“I think so.”

Elizabeth shrugged. The evening's remaining light started to slip away beneath the horizon and the shadows on the ground lengthened and blurred into each other. She looked up briefly and saw a majestic mountain ahead, into which miles of buildings were carved. It looked like the mountains she saw in Colorado on television. She looked at it in wonder and thought for one brief moment that the peak must surely reach to heaven. Then she looked down again at her dirty feet trudging through the dust and felt nothing but despair.

How will this woman in this barbaric town ever be able to help us?

Elizabeth could see the outline of the Antonia Fortress against the skyline. It was magnificent, looking so much like a storybook castle that she momentarily forgot about the evils and horrors that Leah had described.

“I will do the talking,” said Leah in a low voice. “Keep your veil high on your face. We don't want anyone to recognize you. If a Roman soldier addresses you, look down, like a hyena would do when faced with a lion.”

“I'll do whatever I have to do to free my father.”

Leah gently rubbed her back. “Whatever you do, don't get angry or raise your voice to the guards there. They're going to be curious who we are. Just treat them with respect.”

Near the front gate, they could see another woman talking to a Roman guard, who was listening intently. Leah and Elizabeth slowed their pace, waiting for the outcome. The woman, clothed in a beautiful blue garment, gestured forcefully. The soldier, who had now taken his helmet off and was holding it in his right hand, nodded several times. Then the woman with long black hair and a white veil handed him something. The soldier laughed, then suddenly knocked the woman down, startling her. He then reached down and pulled her up
by the arm. “Come with me!” he yelled as the woman's feet slid along the ground. “I know someone who will be happy to see you.”

Leah and Elizabeth both gasped in unison. Leah grabbed Elizabeth's arm and pulled her back in the direction of the city. “Come with me!”

They could hear the woman's muffled screams behind them as they fled.

“We're not going to help her?” Elizabeth asked, swinging her head around to get another glance at the commotion.

Leah dragged her forward. “How do you expect me to help her?”

Elizabeth stumbled and again felt tears coming to her eyes. “I don't know. What about my father?”

“We'll go back to my home. Maybe I can find someone to help me.”

Elizabeth stopped suddenly. “I'm not going to your home. Didn't you see what just happened? What kind of a place is my father in? This place is sick. Don't you have any friends here that can help us? Where's your husband?”