Naaman walked slowly through each room of the sprawling but empty house, peering in corners and running his fingers over the fine cedar woodwork that trimmed the windows and doors. He was a soldier not a craftsman, but even he could appreciate the high-quality materials and workmanship with which the house was constructed. The block walls were perfectly straight and had been covered with a smooth layer of mortar in delicate, swirling patterns. Each room had been painted different colors—some bold and some muted. Heavy drapes hung from each window and added a touch of warmth and elegance to the rooms. Massive beams crafted from cypress trees formed the basic structure for the roof and added to the impression that the house was built to survive nature’s fiercest tempest or earthquake.
The stairway up which they had earlier climbed to the upper floor of the house was crafted out of some wood he’d never seen before, and carved into each step was a proverb or wise saying. The tile floors throughout the house were smooth and laid out in perfect symmetry. As Naaman walked he wondered how the craftsmen were able to keep each grout-filled seam exactly the same width.
“Do you like it?” Karinah asked as she clamped her hands together and held them at her chin, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet. Her dark green eyes glistened with excitement and were a perfect match for her olive skin and nearly black hair. Her enthusiasm for the house was an extension of how she approached life, which contributed to keeping her remarkably trim and fit.
“Well, do you?” she asked with excitement that bordered on the giddiness of someone half her middle age.
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t seen it all,” Naaman replied coyly in an awkward attempt to hide his own enthusiasm about the house.
Karinah rushed to his side and took him by the hand. “You love it, don’t you?” she said as she clasped both of his hands in hers. Then almost skipping backwards, she pulled him down a long hallway. “Wait until you see the gardens out back.” She pushed open a door that took them into yet another nicely crafted room. “Close your eyes,” Karinah ordered when they were barely inside the room.
“No,” Naaman responded. “You’ll push me out a window, and I’ll fall and break my neck. Then you’ll marry someone else and live in this house,” he teased.
Feigning offense she said, “If I promise not to push you, will you close your eyes?”
Naaman smiled and, closing his eyes, extended his arms so Karinah could lead him. As much as he loved and trusted his wife, the uncertainty of where she was leading him made him shuffle along, gingerly sliding one foot ahead of the other like an old man walking down an uneven path.
“Don’t open your eyes yet, but we must stop for just a moment,” Karinah said as she dropped his hands. Almost immediately he heard the sound of doors creaking as they were opened. With his eyes still closed, he could feel the coolness of a breeze on his cheeks and catch the faint scent of something sweet in the air. Flowery, he thought, perhaps citrus blossoms or maybe a rose. Whatever it was, the smell was pleasant.
“What’s that smell?” Naaman asked.
“Which one?” Karinah replied. “There are dozens of smells just now.”
“The sweet smell, the flowery smell.”
Returning to Naaman’s side, Karinah again took him by both hands. “Be patient, and you’ll see. But first you must walk down two steps.”
Naaman cautiously resisted the tugs on his arms. “The steps are still three feet ahead of you,” Karinah said as she tugged more forcefully. “Stop being so cautious; just step forward.”
“I stay alive by being cautious,” Naaman said in response, slowly sliding his left foot forward until he detected the step. Easing down both steps, he said, “Karinah, may I open my eyes now?”
“Not yet, but almost!” she answered as she pulled him forward. Dropping his hands she stepped to his side and slightly rotated his body. “Okay, my love, open your eyes!”
Naaman slowly opened his eyes, and he was instantly awestruck by what he saw. Standing on a second-story veranda, he had a sweeping view of an expansive and perfectly manicured garden and courtyard. Rosebushes in full bloom ringed the perimeter, each spaced exactly twenty feet apart. Placed evenly between the rosebushes were deep green cypress trees towering thirty feet in the air. The contrast of pink, red, white, and orange roses against the green of the cypress trees was startling and beautiful.
In almost the center of the garden was an ornate circular structure. It had no sides, and its domed roof was supported by four pure white marble columns, each about eight feet tall. Sheltered beneath the roof were marble benches, which had a slight pink cast. Perfectly straight flagstone paths extended in four directions from the marble structure and along both sides of each path were a variety of flowers.
Various greenery and bushes dotted the interior of the courtyard in symmetrical patterns and were interspersed with date palms and orange and lemon trees. In the far corner was a vegetable garden with neat rows of plants just beginning to crack the earth and begin their skyward reach. In the most distant part of the expansive yard, separated by a tall block fence, stood a small corral with an attached structure intended to shelter horses and a few other animals. But the most impressive part of the entire area was at the extreme rear of the property. There, beyond a short wall, flowed the beautiful clear water of the Albana River.
The river was slightly less than forty feet wide, and on the opposite bank was a beautiful block wall with trumpet vines cascading down to the water’s edge. From his vantage point, Naaman could see that the water flowed smoothly with a slight but steady current.
“This is beautiful,” he said as his eyes darted from one corner of the courtyard to another, struggling to take everything in.
“I knew it! I just knew it,” Karinah said in delight. “I knew you’d love the garden more than anything about the house.”
“Oh, the garden and courtyard are beautiful, but it’s the river. It’s so clear and peaceful it makes me want to jump in and swim,” Naaman said without taking his eyes from the flowing water.
“Do you want to see the rest of the house? You’ve only been through a few of the rooms, and there’s still much more to see,” Karinah said anxiously. If he was hesitating at all about buying the house, she was confident the remaining rooms would be more than enough to nudge him toward a purchase.
Naaman smiled as he looked at his wife. “Do you want to live here?” he asked her quietly.
“Oh yes,” she answered enthusiastically, “more than I can begin to tell you. What about you? Do you want to live here beside the Albana River?” The reference to the river was a deliberate attempt on her part to overcome the bit of hesitancy she could see in his eyes. The river was a soft spot, and she intended to exploit it.
Naaman hesitated slightly before he said, “It is a gorgeous house, and I truly admire the river . . .”
“But?” she prodded.
“I’m a little concerned that it’s too nice,” he replied with a suddenly serious tone. “You forget I’m only a soldier.”
A look of surprise spread over Karinah’s face, and she waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Only a soldier?” she repeated. “You are now the captain over all of King Ben-Hadad’s forces, his supreme commander. There isn’t anyone he trusts more. He admires you for your bravery, your devotion, your cunning. Saying you are only a soldier is like saying the Albana River is a muddy trickle of water.”
“I’m concerned about what others might think, us living in such a glorious place,” he responded.
Karinah stepped closer to him and cupped his face between her hands. “Since when has my Naaman been worried about what others think?” she said with a tinge of sarcasm.
“Forever.” Then looking into his wife’s eyes, he said, “But if you want the house . . .”
“Thank you,” Karinah interrupted with a squeal as she jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She gave him a quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” she repeated. “You’ve made me very happy.”
“And you’ve made me a very happy man,” he replied as he encircled her in his arms and held her tightly, her feet suspended six inches off the floor.
It was as he gently lowered her to the ground that she focused on the red blotch on his cheek, just above his perfectly trimmed beard. “It’s redder than usual. Does it hurt?” she asked softly as she lightly touched the spot with her index finger.
Naaman reached up and took Karinah’s hand in his, moving it away from his cheek. “No, not really. It’s a little tender to the touch, but it doesn’t hurt.”
Karinah extracted her hand from his and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t like how it looks,” she said softly, unable to conceal the slight anxiety in her voice.
Naaman gave her a gentle squeeze and said reassuringly, “It’s nothing. Go. Look around the rest of the house; I’m going to walk down to the river.”