The travelers stopped about fifty furlongs away in a clearing beside a rocky wall. They wore impressive headpieces that covered their faces, what soldiers wore during barbarian times, or so I remembered from Gladiator. Swords tucked into sheaths gleamed in the sunlight.
The men galloped across the desert when they were far away. Now that they were near us, they tarried, much to my annoyance.
One of the men slid off his horse and glanced in our direction. I pulled back out of sight. Baruch’s heart thumped wildly against my cheek. The other riders pulled up and parked alongside the first man. What were they waiting for?
The first one dismounted and walked behind the rock wall. Metallic clanging rifled through the air as his armor came into view. A few minutes later, he reappeared stretching his back.
The man mounted his horse, waved at his comrades, and they took off, passing too close to our hiding place for comfort, but the galloping horses brought relief. The dust from the horses’ hoofs filled the area. I began sneezing.
“That must be a record,” Baruch said.
“Once I sneezed nineteen times.”
Baruch rolled his eyes.
“Yuck. I’m so dirty,” Cherios complained.
“You can clean yourself later,” I promised.
The soldiers faded in the distance. We had escaped trouble this time. How would I have explained a stubborn donkey, a sweet bunny, and a fourteen-year-old runaway girl?
“Let’s hope we don’t see any more of those soldiers,” Baruch said.
I lifted the blanket off Cherios and patted her reassuringly. “Just take us where we’re going, Baruch. Thank goodness you know.”
Never had I thought I would be indebted to a fat donkey. I stroked Cherios on the head. “You won’t hop off now if I remove this, will you?”
Cherios sat scrunched up in a tiny ball on Baruch’s back.
“You won’t run away again, will you?”
“No.”
I kissed her on the nose.
We continued along the narrow winding road through corkscrew mountain passes and a rocky desert wilderness. Before dusk, we arrived at a small village. The congested roads were crowded with travelers and merchants. Nostalgia swept over me as I saw young mothers with babies wrapped in their arms. The hordes of people slowed us down but also helped to conceal my strange clothing and fair skin. School-age children skipped past us with little more than a glance. I almost felt at home listening to their friendly chatter.
A plethora of smells—enticing, repulsive and raw—filled the dusty air from the road. Animal dung was the most revolting. I caught a young man staring at me. I told Baruch to push ahead. We came to a merchant with a scale similar to those in grocery stores.
We approached the trader and watched as he doled out three silver pieces to a man in front of us. “Let’s check out that table, Baruch.”
The shopper counted the money and recounted. “This isn’t the right amount,” he said. “You’re cheating me.”
The merchant crossed his arms. “What do you mean, this isn’t the right amount?”
The disgruntled voices alarmed me. “Maybe we’ll have better luck somewhere else.” I patted Baruch on the back to keep moving.
Many of the women wore head coverings. I could cover my head with the blanket, but I needed to keep Cherios hidden. I rubbed her on the head to reassure her.
We passed several tables laden with fruit, bread, and fish. Soon we came to a booth with an assortment of pearls, perfume, and expensive-looking cloth of many colors. A young woman in a purple dress and a white-laced shawl greeted me with a warm smile. I slid off Baruch and walked up to her display.
She pleasantly asked, “Can I help you? You look like visitors.”
My short flowery dress with spaghetti straps stood out against the long flowing wardrobe of the women. I chuckled. “Yes.”
I handed her the white pearl. “How much will you give me for this?”
Her eyes brightened. “Oh, so beautiful.” She examined it and admired the pearl before handing it back. “I’ll give you thirty-five pieces of silver.”
I wasn’t sure how much that was. I picked out a purple dress. “How much?”
“Five pieces of silver.”
Even though I swore I’d never wear another dress, I needed to look as if I belonged here.
The merchant smiled as she waited for my decision.
Encouraged, I asked her, “Is there a place we could stay overnight? I also need to put up my donkey.”
She nodded. “My brother has a small inn up the road. Look for Jacob’s Lodging.”
“Jacob’s?”
“You’re a stranger here, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Most foreigners stay there when they come to seek treatment from Doctor Luke. The inn is on the corner two furlongs east of Via Corneli, over the hill. In fact, he arrived last night from Jerusalem, my brother told me. Hurry before all the rooms are taken.”
I froze on the word “Jerusalem.” Is that where I was? How was it I could understand everyone? Did they speak English, too?
“Is everything okay?” the woman asked.
Her question brought me back to reality. “I’ll look for the inn at once,” I assured her. “Thank you.”
The woman double-checked my purchase for flaws. “You will have plenty of oats and water for your animal. Tell him Martha sent you.”
“Thanks again. I appreciate it.”
She smiled graciously and turned to another waiting customer.
I started counting the silver pieces and caught a crow eyeing me. I kept counting—thirty pieces. That should be enough to pay for a night’s lodging and food. I put them all in Baruch’s knapsack, except for the last one.
I examined one of the coins and was surprised to see the word “Caesar” engraved on it. I flipped the coin over, and etched on the other side was the name “Augustus.’ Why would I have a coin bearing the name of a famous Roman emperor?
The people were dark, making me stick out like a marshmallow. Most of the men had thick beards and long hair. The women were more olive toned, reminding me of Rachel.
I purchased some fresh fruit and sweet bread.
We came to a blind beggar holding out a small box. “Have mercy on me, have mercy on the blind man.”
Most of the people skirted to the other side in ambivalence. My heart prompted me to stop.
“Wait, Baruch,” I whispered. “Let’s go back.”
I slid off the donkey and placed a silver coin in his box.
He grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and then let go. “Thank you. May you receive a blessing.”
I climbed back on Baruch’s back and coaxed him to keep moving.
“Ca-ca, Baruch, good to see you.”
Baruch whinnied, happy to see his old friend. “Worldly Crow!”
The talking crow lighted on a discarded jug a few feet away. “Ca-ca. I knew you were making a terrible mistake leaving, but you didn't listen to me, the stubborn donkey that you are. So you’re back, uh? Where have you been?”
“I’ve been living in the king’s garden a long ways from here.”
“You haven’t been gone long enough to travel far.”
Baruch’s eyes opened wide. “I’ve been gone for months.”
“No, you haven’t, my friend.” Worldly Crow flew closer, landing on top of a wooden post.
“That’s the same crow that watched me count the coins, Baruch.”
“He’s my stable buddy, Worldly Crow.”
“And who is the speaking human?” the crow asked.
“I’m Shale Snyder.”
“And you talk to animals?” He cackled. “Did they teach you that in the garden?”
“Yes—well, no. I mean, I don’t know.” I noticed some onlookers staring at me. Cherios poked her head out from underneath the blanket. I quickly covered her, but Worldly Crow saw the rabbit and cackled again.
I remembered why I never liked crows at our backyard feeder. They were
too annoying. “We’ll stay here in town tonight and catch up with you tomorrow.” I hoped he got the hint.
Worldly Crow took off, but not before stealing a fish from a nearby table. The merchant waved his hands to shoo him away as the stolen fish dangled from his beak.
“Good riddance,” the merchant complained. “Don’t come back here no more.”
I followed Martha’s directions and we found Jacob’s Inn up the road. After tethering Baruch, I walked to the front portico. Three men lay stretched out on rolled-up mats. The sickest one groaned in a monotone voice. He stopped when I approached. Another man had painful-looking sores on his arms and legs. Bugs circled about his wounds as he swatted at them. I didn’t realize I was staring until one of them returned my gaze. His vacant eyes haunted me. I turned away. A doctor walked over to tend to him, blocking the sick man from my view.
I entered the inn where an attendant greeted me warmly.
“Are you Jacob?” I asked.
“No, but I know where he is.” He called across the marbled portico. “Jacob, a young lady is here to see you.”
Jacob stopped sweeping the floor and came over. “You need a place to stay tonight?”
I explained how his sister had sent me. Soon, another man strolled over and offered to take Baruch to the stable.
“I’ll take good care of your donkey, ma’am,” he offered.
“Thank you, sir. Can you tell me where I can get some carrots?”
“Carrots?” he repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll see to it you receive fresh fruit and vegetables, ma’am.”
The man spoke to another helper. “The young lady wants carrots.”
A short time later, a servant brought me a large bowl of fresh fruit and vegetables. I handed her a silver coin, and she thanked me, beaming from ear to ear.
When no one was looking, I wrapped Cherios up in the folds of my dress and took her with me into my private room. The accommodations were modest and sparkling clean. Freshly-cut flowers adorned the wooden table and I even had a chair. Three colorful, thick blankets draped the simple bed. Cherios curled up on the end. After setting a bowl of fresh carrots in front of her, she took each one and nibbled gingerly.
“I could get used to this place,” she exclaimed between bites.
I was surprised at how quickly she’d adjusted after being so panicked in the garden.
“You might need to—I have a feeling we’ll be here for a while.”
Later, I slipped out to check on Baruch. The evening air was cool and the setting sun dimmed my inn room to shades of gray. I’d have to get used to not having electricity. I welcomed the nippiness after being so hot earlier. Baruch was already asleep in his stall, opening one dopey eye wide enough to acknowledge me before dozing off again. I patted him between his ears and walked back to my lodging.
As I padded across the shortcut between the stable and the inn, a rustling noise betrayed movement in the tall grass. The blades of grass shimmied like a stadium of fans jumping up and down. I was too tired to inspect it now, but my memory would recall it later.
Later, in my room, after eating bread and grapes, I poured some wine into a mug. Everyone drank here, so why not? I had never tasted it. I took a couple of sips and gagged. Yuck. I stared into my cup debating whether I wanted any more.
“Do you not like your drink?” Cherios asked.
“Not so much.” I discarded the wine and gulped some water to get rid of the aftertaste. Soon my eyes became heavy, even though I didn’t want to fall asleep. I had too many things to think about, but I succumbed to the thick blankets draped over me and fell into a deep sleep.