Heartbeat

As we round the corner, my eyes are immediately met with a wide-open door. Our momentum carries us through the doorway and into the hut. Our momentum is quickly halted by the sight of a man slouched on a stool in the corner of the room. My breathing intensifies.

I breathe in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

I try to slow it down. I try matching my breathing to my pulse. One heartbeat. A breath. I know if I breathe too loud, I will wake up the man.

Heartbeat.

In.

Heartbeat.

Out.

Heartbeat.

In.

Heartbeat.

Out. I am under control at least for the moment. I slowly reach for Levi’s hand to back out of the doorway. We are back against the side of the hut. My skin is rubbing against the harsh wood. The sun continues to bake down on my face.

I replay the hut in my head. The man. He was old. Long white beard with long unkept hair. The creases around his eyes were deep with age. The color of his skin dark. Toned by years in the sun either on the water or right next to it. I slow my mind to take in everything else in the area. The hut smelled of fish. There were fishing poles on the wall. A small table in front of the old man in the corner with a piece of papyrus. I try to focus to see if I can make out any words in my memory. I think I am reaching the limit of my recall.

I look down to see a terrified Levi. He has been so brave to be quiet as I sifted through my recollection. His emotions are all over his face. I see stress pulling at his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. The mark of worry is across his forehead.

“Lev.” I whisper.

“Mar… who was that? Do we know him? Is he dead? Mar… I… am still scared.”

“Yes, Levi, I know. I think he was just sleeping, but I do not really want to find out. I think we need to move on from here. We will find somewhere to stay.”

I jog my mind back to the hut. Was there anything else that could help us before we go? Whether he was dead or asleep, I might be able to get something from the hut. Something that will help us keep moving. A drink of water. A loaf of bread. A fish or two. There must be at least one thing worth taking. I sink back into the picture of the hut in my mind.

I scan the room with my eyes closed. The man. The fishing poles. The table. The jug under the table. The papyrus on the table. The smell of fish. Wait. The jug. It looked just like the one we kept in our house. We would fill it with water at the beginning of each day. We would drink from it all day just to refill it the next morning. My mother would carry it out every morning just to haul it back full for everyone to use throughout the day. When I was twelve, she began taking me with her to the well. After I turned thirteen, I was strong enough to carry the jug home.

Today will be no different.

“Levi, I need you to stay right here. I think there is some water in there. We both need water to keep going on.” I put my hand on his shoulder and lead him to the ground. “Sit down, Lev. Don’t say a word.”

I take a couple steps back to the corner of the hut. I take another breath in. Another breath out.

I round the corner again to go back in the hut.

Everything is as expected. The sunbaked man still sleeps on his stool in the corner. Now that I am expecting him, I can take in the hut for everything there is. I see the fishing poles, the man, the table, the smell of fish. I now see the jug. It is the same clay jug that my mother and I used to use. As I walk towards the table, I try and take in the rest of the room. I see a spear on the wall next to the fishing poles with nets hanging beside those. As I get close to the table, I see random drawings and tick marks on the papyrus in front of the man.

I slow my steps. I am trying to be as quiet as possible. The last thing I need to do is explain to this random fisherman why I am sneaking around his fishing hut. I can just start to see the contents of the jug. It looks to be about half full of water. This will be enough water for a couple of days for me and Lev. This might be the break we needed. As I am taking in the amount of water, I see a woven basket with a couple of loaves in it. I try not to get greedy, but this water and food could keep Lev and I moving for days without having to worry.

I decide the water is the most important.

I slowly kneel next to the jug. I can hear the man breathing because of my proximity. I try to slow my breathing to be in rhythm with his. I know that moving the jug will be the loudest part, but I am trying to make everything else as quiet as possible.

I reach out for the jug. I get a firm grip on the handles. I lift it just enough to not scrape the ground. I pull it out from under the table. I slowly stand up and start to back away from the table. I turn on my heels and start shuffling out the open door. As I approach the door, I look over my shoulder to see the man still sleeping soundly on his stool.

I round the corner to find Levi right where I left him. I set the jug down next to him with a smile on my face. His eyes glow up in my direction like a candle flickering in the darkness of night. His face a small sign of hope in the darkness of the last few days. I take his hand to push it into the mouth of the jug.

“Drink, brother.”

His smile widens as he brings the water to his lips. I do the same. There is a calm in the simplicity of bringing water to my lips. I did not realize the dehydration I was experiencing because of the adrenaline, but now I feel the relief of water flowing through my body. It rehydrates my soul. I feel relieved. I feel renewed. I feel invincible.

“Mar, did he have anything to eat?” Levi speaks in between sips of water.

“Yes… he did…” My voice trails off knowing that I must go back in the hut to retrieve the food. Suddenly the invincibility of the previous moment leaves my body. “I will be back, Levi. Stay here. Stay quiet. Stay calm.”

I turn on my heels again to go back to get the fish and bread.

My body becomes quiet again as I enter the hut again. I shuffle across the floor back to the basket on the floor. I match my breathing with his. I kneel. I get a grip on the basket. I lift it enough for it not to scrape across the dirt. I feel at ease in repeating all the steps that I just completed. I stand up to back out of the hut with my basket.

As I turn on my heels, I hear a sharp inhale. I freeze. I hear a rustling on the stool. I shift my weight. I turn my head to look over my shoulder. For the first time, I see the man’s eyes.

I do not want to believe it, but he woke up. His eyes find mine.