THIRTY-NINE

They followed the young woman to the outer room, shutting the double doors to the temple behind them.

“Sit here,” she said. “I’ll bring you a meal.” She wore a long white shift with one shoulder bare. Her dark brown hair was held back by a headband while a green jewel twinkled like a sequin on her right temple.

Rachel couldn’t stop touching Adam, reassuring her senses that he was indeed alive. Soft instrumental music filled the room.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Rachel and Adam pulled a short table close. Their dinner consisted of a savory stew with meat and vegetables, grapes, soft cheese, flat bread, snap peas, hummus, and a bean-based paste that went on the flatbread. The young woman poured hot tea into round cups with no handles.

Rachel was so tired she felt like she might fall asleep sitting up. “Thank you for your hospitality. This cheese is delicious.”

The young woman nodded, accepting the thanks. “You are guests of The Lady.”

Rachel gestured with her spoon. “Adam, eat the stew, you need the protein.”

Adam tried a bite. Then he finished the whole bowl and took a second helping. He reached for the grapes and then put a hunk of cheese on the flatbread and ate it together. Adam slurped down a cup of tea and then yawned. Rachel’s eyes devoured every movement, measuring his actions against how she remembered Adam, looking for changes after his experience in the pool.

The instrumental music was getting on Rachel’s nerves. She fidgeted.

“I’ll take you both to your rooms now,” the young woman said. “You must be exhausted.”

Rachel started to ask about what The Lady’s price would be, but chose to keep yet another secret from Adam. “We are, thank you.”

Panic woke Rachel. She looked around the bedroom for Adam, swinging her feet from bed to floor and padding across to the door. A vague memory made her turn left and enter the next doorway. Her shoulders sagged with relief when she peeked through and saw Adam sprawled across white blankets.

She tiptoed in and sat on the edge of his bed. “Buddy? Are you asleep?”

Adam groaned. “No, I’m laying here with my eyes closed for fun.”

“Right.” Rachel nodded. “But yesterday you were dead, so I now reserve the right to check your status whenever I want.”

He opened one eye to stare at her. “You’re so weird.”

“Again. You were dead.”

“At least you aren’t saying that I had rabies like you did with the two-headed moose.”

She rubbed his back. “Do you remember anything? Did you see a light? Get yanked back?”

He yawned. “Something like that. Can I go back to sleep now?”

Rachel stood, but there was one more question that she had to ask. “The Lady said,” she swallowed. “She said you could decide whether to come back or not. Did you hesitate? I mean, do you have any regrets about … coming back? Did I make you leave someplace beautiful and peaceful?”

“Mom?”

Rachel clasped her hands together, ready for judgment, to hear that her selfishness had robbed her son of Heaven.

“You’ve got to stop overthinking things.” Adam pulled the blanket higher on his shoulder and rolled over.

Rachel blinked. “Okay, then. I’m in the next room over if you need me.”

As she shut his bedroom door, Rachel turned to find the young woman from the day before outside her bedroom holding a stack of thick blue towels.

“Good morning,” Rachel said.

“Good morning. I’ll put these by your bath before I join the morning chorus. Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t really know,” Rachel said, unsure of how to answer. “Who are you?”

“Sarai. I’m here to help you.”

“Sarai? That’s an exotic name.”

“It used to be Josie. I had to change it when I became a handmaiden.” The young woman disappeared into the bedroom. Rachel followed. The walls were painted in a neutral tone, the bed was the main furniture in the room, with a wooden table and chair to one side. Colorful flowers emerged from a vase—either clay or limestone—with a swimming fish in relief.

Mesopotamian pottery. Thousands of years old, but I don’t know enough to date it. She snorted. Of course, it could be only two months old, post-firestorm.

White curtains fluttered in a warm breeze. Rachel stepped through the curtains onto a balcony and realized she was on the opposite side of the palace from LaPorte’s entrance. She stood in the middle of a matching ogee arch looking down a rocky cliff to what used to be the Chesapeake Bay, but now appeared to be an ocean. As if the entire eastern shore had been submerged. Maybe it had.

Then Rachel caught movement. She clutched the edge of the balcony and leaned forward. People. Lining up along the shoreline and facing the palace so the water lapped at their heels. A village of reed huts dotted the beach between the base of the cliff and the water. Emotion welled up at the sight: relief, surprise, joy. A dark-haired teenager a couple years older than Adam ran across the sand. A man pulled a flatbottomed boat onto shore and called out to him, but Rachel was too far away to hear the words.

The people began singing. To Rachel, standing in the balcony, it felt like being serenaded. A soprano voice came from behind as Sarai walked onto the balcony, her singing joining with the melody below. The song was lovely, the words unfamiliar. The last note held out into the stillness and then the line of people dispersed as they each went back to their previous task.

“That was beautiful,” Rachel said. “Do you do it every morning?”

“Of course.” Sarai seemed surprised. “We sing the morning chorus to recognize The Lady and thank her for the day.” Sarai pressed her palms together at her heart. “Your bath is ready.”

“Thank you, Sarai.” Rachel gestured to the village. “Who … what is that?”

“Our families.” The young woman touched the green jewel at her temple. “All the handmaidens are allowed to bring their families.”

“Ah,” Rachel said. “We passed so many empty houses on the way here. I thought everyone was dead.”

“We came after the firestorm,” Sarai said. She pointed to the doorway. “Please.”

Rachel stepped inside a bathroom. A scaled-down replica of The Lady’s room, the centerpiece was a tub of steaming, churning water carved from stone. Built-in shelves held towels, washcloths, scented soaps, and shampoos. A chest of drawers pressed against the wall. To one side was a toilet and sink with an ornate mirror.

“Please help yourself to anything. New clothes are available in the drawers.” Sarai ducked her head and left.

Rachel tested the water temperature and sighed in pleasure. She dropped her clothes, grabbed an apricot scented soap, and stepped into the swirling water. Ledges were built along the sides of the tub. As she soaped in a circular motion, Rachel noted how the dirty water swirled down and fresh warm water streamed in from an opening in the wall. Jets of water pulsed against her skin.

After rinsing, Rachel settled against the side, letting her head loll back and her thoughts wander. Rachel adjusted against the jets so the pressure was just right against her sore muscles. A few minutes later Rachel, almost lulled into sleep, heard a sound behind her. Startling, Rachel gasped and ducked down so that the water covered up to her neck.

Sarai stood in the doorway. “Are you ready for me to help you wash your hair?”

“I can do it,” Rachel said. “Seriously.”

“It is my pleasure and duty. I used to work in a salon back—” Sarai swallowed her words. “Sorry, we’re not allowed to talk about before. After I style your hair, I’ll escort you to the dining room to break your fast.”

It wasn’t such a bad thing to have a personal stylist. Rachel’s cheeks glowed with lotion, her auburn hair was clean and soft, held up with a gold pin. She’d chosen a cream shirt with crocheted lace at the bottom edge and sleeves, a thick belt, short fawn colored skirt and dark brown leggings from the drawer. New hiking boots completed the outfit. Sarai led the way to a long table on the bottom floor balcony overlooking the village and sea.

“Hey, you got a haircut,” Rachel said.

Adam grinned and rubbed his head. “Sarai did it.”

Rachel’s knees buckled as a sudden memory invaded. Adam’s hair coming out in clumps after chemo. She’d made them a hair appointment and gone first, sitting for the swirl of a black drape, the snip of her pony tail donation, the vibration of buzzers. A pixie cut, they called it. A smile to Adam. See? Just hair. Her hand rubbing her scalp while her son took his turn with the buzzers. How young he’d looked after. How naked and vulnerable.

This haircut was different. He looked older, his hazel eyes more pronounced now that there was less hair as a distraction.

“I like your outfit,” she said. “Snazzy.”

He wore a new pair of athletic shorts, a T-shirt for a hockey team that no longer existed, and black and red basketball shoes.

“Can you never say ‘snazzy’ again?”

“Why?” She sat down across from him. “It’s fun to say. All the z’s.”

“Bow your head, please.” Sarai folded her hands. “We give thanks to The Lady of the Bath, our protector and our patron.” She handed a plate to Rachel. “Help yourself. The porridge is made from barley. It tastes like oatmeal.”

Rachel scooped the porridge into her bowl and poured honey on top. She took a bite and rolled her eyes in pleasure. “This is delicious.”

“Yeah,” said Adam, his mouth full.

Sarai said, “The Lady will see you both this afternoon. In the meantime, you are free to explore.”

Rachel looked around the palace. She needed information about these gods and their supernatural creatures. “Do you have a library here?”

“We do. The temple has everything we need.”

“A library?” Adam’s face lit up. “Do they have manga?”

Sarai frowned. “It’s different for everybody. You are welcome to look.”

“Cool,” Adam said. He looked over the balcony. “Wait, Mom, can I go down into the village first?”

Rachel opened her mouth to say ‘no.’ Instead, her gaze dropped to the pink scar on his arm. She wanted to hold him tightly, wrap her arms around and never let go.

“Yes,” she said, but then added, “Be careful.”

“Really? I can go by myself?” Adam jumped up from the table as if afraid she’d change her mind. “See you later, alligators.” He dashed down the hallway, his voice trailing after him. “Hey, how do I get out of this place?”