No Woman So Fair (47 page)

Time had ceased to have any meaning. He tried to imagine how long he had been in this place of darkness and burning, but a moment or a year were all the same to him. In one of his more lucid moments, he thought,
I am dead
. The thought neither frightened him nor gave him relief. It was simply there, and he gave himself up to being a shadow.
That's all I am
, he thought.
A shadow among shadows
.

Then, to his surprise, time suddenly began to have meaning again. He did not know how it happened, but he gradually became aware of things other than darkness and the sound of a storm. He realized he was lying on something solid, and he was hearing real sounds. He even began to notice smells, such as the distinct odor of a burning lamp. The oil was smoky and acrid, and he sensed that he was coming out of the dark and lonely place where he had wandered for…for as many years as it took to build a huge temple, he thought.

As he stepped out of one world into another, Eliezer realized that his lips and his tongue were dry—so dry he had nothing in his tissues to moisten them with. He tried to lick his lips, but there was no wetness there.

And then the pain came in his chest and along his side. It was a dull throbbing, and when he moved he felt as if someone had struck him with the point of a dagger, slicing through the flesh down to the nerves.

He heard the voice that had come to him many times when he was unconscious. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing at first. The place was dark, except for a small light. Something had come between him and the light. As he blinked his eyes, a face came into focus, and he heard the voice he knew he had heard many times in the void.

“Eliezer, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” The word was hard to pronounce through his cracked lips, and he tried to smile, but his lips would not respond. “Zara,” he whispered in a voice not his own.

“Here. Take this.”

An arm slipped under his head. He felt himself lifted, and the pain slashed at him. But then there was a wondrous coolness, and moisture came to his lips, soaking his dried-up tissues. He guzzled the water avidly, swallowing some while part of it ran down his face, his chin, and onto his chest. Even that felt marvelous. He felt he could never get enough, even if there were a lake or a river of it.

“That's enough. I'll give you some more in a moment.”

Eliezer blinked his eyes several times and licked his lips. “Zara?” he said, this time his voice a little stronger. “Is that you?”

“Yes. It's me.” He saw her lean forward and put her hand on his forehead and then on his cheek. It was the same hand he had felt before. “Your fever is gone.”

Memory came rushing back, and Eliezer recalled the fight amid the rocky hills. “How long…have I been here?”

“Four days. You were injured very badly.”

He stared at her. There was something important he wanted to say, but he could not think what it was. Instead he asked, “Can I have another drink?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly.”

Eliezer sipped very slowly, following her command. When she pulled the cup away she lowered his head again but kept her hand under it. Setting the cup down, she turned and laid her other hand on his cheek. He studied her. His mind worked so slowly it troubled him. He saw tears on her cheeks and tried to think why she was crying. Finally he reached up and touched the tears. “Don't cry,” he whispered.

“I can't help it.”

Her voice was the same, and her face was the same. Another memory came—this one was of the moment he and the others had burst into the camp. He kept his hand on her cheek, and his voice was almost inaudible. “Did he…hurt you, Zara?”

“No. You came in time.” He knew she was leaning forward, and he felt the touch of her lips on his. It was the lightest caress possible, and then she laid her head down very softly on his shoulder. He smelled the fragrance of her hair and felt it, but then weakness overtook him, and he sank into sleep. He knew this time he was not descending back to that featureless void, but he could sleep peacefully now, knowing that he had returned to the world of men and women.

****

His chest itched, but when he came awake enough to scratch it, he found something holding his hand back. It irritated him, and he turned from side to side. The motion caused the pain to stab at him, and when he opened his eyes, he found Zara standing over him holding his arm. “My chest itches,” he told her.

“I know, but you mustn't scratch it.”

Eliezer felt exhausted, and his lips were rough. He touched them with his tongue, and as he did, he noted that Zara's face was drawn and there were lines he had never seen before. Concerned, he whispered, “Are you sick?”

“No. Just tired. Here, let me get you some more water.”

“Let me sit up.”

“You're too weak.”

“No. I want to.”

Zara hesitated, then helped him into a sitting position, his back against a stack of cushions placed against the central pole of the tent. “That feels better,” he said. He watched as she poured water from a clay jar into a wooden cup and took the cup when she offered it to him.

“Drink it slowly. Let it soak in,” she said.

He obeyed, taking a sip at a time, then paused to say, “There's nothing better in this world than water.”

Zara poured more water in the cup. “Keep taking very small sips. We've had a hard time getting you to drink.”

He was fully conscious now, and for a time he sipped the water and asked her questions, wondering how long he had been there.

Finally she said, “I need to change your bandages.”

“All right.”

As she removed the bandages from around his chest and left arm, the sight of his flesh sewn up like a piece of cloth sobered him. “He nearly killed me.”

“Yes.”

She bathed the wounds carefully and then dabbed on some soothing ointment. She had to reach around him to put on fresh bandages, and as she did so, he touched her hair as it fell down her back. “I've always loved your hair,” he whispered.

Zara laughed. “You must be getting well if you can pay compliments to a woman.”

He let his hand run down her silky hair, her face very close to his, and a faint memory brushed against his mind. He waited until it grew clear. She was very still as his hand rested on her cheek, and he said, “I remember when you were just a child. No more than ten or twelve. I looked at you and thought how clear and smooth your skin was. It's still the same. You never change, Zara.”

Zara knelt beside him, perfectly still. She had suffered through agonies when it seemed as though he would die before her very eyes, but now she could see that the color was back in his cheeks and his eyes were clear. Then he removed his hand, and the moment passed. She asked briskly, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I'll get you something to eat.” She rose and left the tent, and as soon as she was outside, a weakness overtook her. She was blinded by her tears, and her knees felt as though they would not support her.
He's all right
, she thought.
He's going to live!
And she knew that, since he was alive, she too could go on living.

****

“What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm sick of that bed. I've got to do something or I'll take root in there.”

Zara glared at Eliezer, who had gotten up and left the tent. She watched as he stood blinking in the strong sunlight. He swayed and put his hand out, and she stepped over and took his arm. “I told you you're not ready to be outside yet.”

“Yes I am. I'll go crazy if I stay in there anymore. Help me to walk.”

“You must be getting better,” Zara said as he put his hand over her shoulder. “You're cranky.” She put her hand around his waist, and he leaned on her as they moved in short steps into the camp. As they made their way, everyone came with smiles to wish Eliezer good health. He waved at them, saying to her, “It's good to be alive, Zara.”

“Everyone was so worried about you. Especially Abraham and Sarah.”

At that moment Isaac came rushing forward, his eyes bright. “Eliezer,” he said, “you're well!”

“No, he's not well. He's stubborn, like all men,” Zara said crossly.

“Are you mad at him?” Isaac asked, his eyes growing wider.

“She's just being a woman. They like to fuss. You'll find that out.”

Zara laughed aloud. “You talk mighty big now that you're able to walk a little.”

He smiled at her and said to Isaac, “I had a good nurse.”

“When will you be able to take me fishing again?” the boy asked.

“It won't be long.”

Isaac continued to pepper Eliezer with questions, so Zara shooed him off, saying, “Go away, Isaac. Eliezer can't go fishing with you for a few days yet.”

“He's a fine boy, isn't he?” Eliezer said, conscious of the firmness of her shoulder and of her arm around his waist. A light danced in his eyes as he went on. “I like walking like this. I think I'll always do it this way.”

Zara stared up at him in astonishment, and then she saw that he was laughing at her. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“I can't think of anything better. You can keep on feeding me my meals in bed too. That isn't bad.”

“You are impossible!” Zara could not keep from laughing.

The two continued their walk until he grew tired. “I guess I'm not as strong as I thought.”

“You were badly hurt.” She looked up at him, and when his eyes met hers, she said, “I can't tell you how afraid I was, Eliezer. I couldn't bear it if I lost you.”

The slight breeze ruffled the edges of her hair, and a tremulous smile tried to form itself at the corners of her lips. He watched the changes of her face, the quickening and the loosening, the small expressions coming and going. She had always had the most expressive face he had ever seen, but then she ceased to smile. Her spirit seemed to brush against him, and a change went over her face he could not understand.

“Is something wrong, Zara?”

A stiff, desperate look changed her mouth, and he watched her tears make bright points in her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I'm fine.”

Despite her words, he knew something was troubling her, and when she left him in his tent, he sat there wondering what it was. It had not been an unhappy look, but he felt troubled over it nonetheless. For a long time he sat, until finally he lay back, thinking of her as he fell asleep.

****

The stillness of the night fell over the camp, and Eliezer awoke, aware of the small stirrings and noises that went on even when the camp was asleep. A sudden feeling of joy gripped him.
I'm glad just to be here, to be alive
.

He went to the edge of his tent and saw the moon hanging low on the horizon. It made shadows on the earth and bright patches of light among the trees. The night was a time he loved more than any other. The darkness seemed like a cape thrown loosely over the world, and he felt contentment as he watched the rising moon, a quarter moon painted a dull silver. For nearly an hour he sat there going over old memories in his mind. He went through his past, bringing out memories as a man would bring precious things out of a chest. He held them up and lived them over again. Some of them were so bright and clear, it was almost like going back to the past.

Many of the memories were fleeting, but he discovered the clearest, most vivid, and most pleasing of all were those that involved Zara. As he sat there quietly with the stars beginning to dot the ebony dome overhead, he went back to the time he had first met her, a frightened child—frightened of him as well as every other man. But he remembered how she had lost her fear of him quickly and how she had clung to him as her only solid portion of the world. She had been such a sweet girl, anxious to please, and his heart had gone out to her from the first. He recalled how many times during her growing-up years she had come to him with one of the fears young girls have and how he had been able to comfort her. He continued to review those times, thinking how she had seemingly overnight become a beautiful young woman instead of the leggy girl, awkward and unsure of herself.

His thoughts were interrupted as she appeared unexpectedly to his right, from where her tent was located.

“You're still awake?” she whispered.

“Yes. Can't sleep. Sit beside me.”

Zara at once sat down beside him, and he could smell her fragrance. He did not know what she used to make herself smell so fresh and pleasant in this hot climate.

For a long time the two sat there, neither saying anything. Finally he turned and studied her face, which was three-quarters turned toward him as she regarded the camp. He was gripped by the ivory shading of her skin and the gentle turn of her lips. Her black hair was free and cascaded down her back. The silver moonlight spilled over the full, soft lines of her body, and then she turned to him and smiled. A small dimple appeared at the left of her mouth. He admired the will and the pride that showed itself in her eyes, her lips, and her carriage.

As he sat there admiring her, Eliezer felt something begin to grow within him. Part of it was a recognition of how much of his life was tied up in this woman who sat beside him. He knew there was a fire in her that made her lovely, and within her was a rich quality often hidden behind the cool reserve. The feeling grew, and he knew now that he had thought of her as a child for a long time but that this was wrong. Now he saw her as a woman, and he suddenly felt the strange things a man feels when he looks upon beauty and desires it for himself.

Zara turned and looked him full in the face, a provocative look in her eyes. Something had touched her. Her breath came quicker, and color ran freshly across her cheeks. And then, without intending to do such a thing, his mind broke through a barrier that had been there for a long time. It came as a shock to him, and he thought,
Why, I've been waiting for this all my life!
He reached over and took her hand, and then when she turned more fully toward him, he put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “I nearly died, Zara. I would have if it hadn't been for you.”