The Scar

The sweat of my palm seeps into Levi’s. We have not moved since the sun reflected right into my eye. It reflected deeper than that. It reflected straight into my heart. It reflected into my memories. My mind swirls into countless different possibilities of what might have transpired on these grounds. I feel the sun’s heat reflecting from the sand onto my skin. I hear the lapping of the waves at the shore. I see the wind pushing the sand and the water.

I try to ground myself in the feeling of Levi’s hand in mine. There’s only so much comfort and consolation that his young mind can process. I pull my mind back from the edge to find a way to make sense of what I am seeing and feeling. As I try and pull myself free, I feel my feet start to take one step in front of the other. I feel the sand fall out of my sandals as I take one step. And then another. And another.

Each step gives me renewed strength. I know in my mind that I must find more willpower than I have ever had before. I no longer have the safety and security of my parents. I no longer have the guiding hand of my father. I no longer have the understanding and tender voice of my mother. The feeling of being alone out on the sand and the knowing that I am the only one responsible for Levi weighs heavy on my head, and it brings my chin to my chest. Trying to keep my eyes towards the horizon becomes an increasingly difficult task.

The sun reflects into my eyes again, snapping me back to the reality of this scene. I must find out who this soldier is. My mother and I worked in Any’s house for years. We knew all his brothers and sisters. We knew his father. We knew his mother. I knew him. I knew him all the way down to the scar on the back of his right hand from that silly game that he used to play. I might not have known all the soldiers or everyone who pledged allegiance to his house, but I knew a lot of them.

All the faces and the sounds and the smells of the house are racing through my memory as we approach the body lodged in the sand. I continue to pull Levi’s hand as we walk closer. He has not said a word since he saw what I was looking at.

As we come nearer the body, I now see that his eyes are still open. Although everything else on his face is hidden by his helmet, I can see that there is no longer life in his eyes. I am stopped in my tracks again by this sight.

The reality of the situation begins to set in on my soul. Even more than on my soul, I know it is resting heavy on Levi’s young mind. I turn to see Levi. I see the fear in his eyes. I position my body between the deathly scene and him. I crouch down in front of him to try and block the lifeless eyes from him.

“Levi, you do not have to look at this,” I say to him, but I’m not sure if he believes me.

“I don’t -I don’t get it. This is wrong. Mar, I’m scared. I miss Mom. I miss Dad. I just want to go home. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go. Mariah, please—what are we going to do?” Levi is pleading with me.

I fear that I do not have the right answer to the questions that he is asking. The world has become a very scary place in a very short amount of time. Although I am looking into Levi’s young hopeful eyes, I can only see the lifeless eyes that I know are staring at me stuck in the sand on the riverbank. The idea of being surrounded by death is one of the hardest feelings to reconcile in my mind. I cannot imagine how Levi’s young mind is processing these things. He’s not processing the death and destruction that surrounds him. The thought punches me in the gut. That is why his sentences are broken and I see the tears start to roll down his face.

I reach my hand for his cheek. As I approach his face, I wipe a tear from his eye with my thumb.

“Levi, I do not have all the answers, but I can promise you that we are going to figure them out together. I am your big sister…” I pause, trying to think what I am going to say next. “I am your big sister, and, and I am going to take care of you. I also want you to know that I am scared. We can be scared together. But like dad always says, ‘we never give up’.”

He softly nods his head in agreement with our family’s mantra. I know there probably isn’t much help right now but knowing that these words come from home can offer an ounce of relief from the pain that we are both feeling.

I still must know if that lifeless body that was staring at me from the sand is the man that I fell in love with. I also know now that I cannot take Levi to find that answer with me. I take his hand and we continue north along the riverbank. I take note of some rocks and marsh that will help guide me back to this place soon. For now, I need to find a place where Levi can stay, and he will be safe.

As much as I want to deny the reality of hunger and thirst, the death of starvation or thirst will come much sooner than any Egyptian soldier or plan for us to get across the Red Sea. I don’t know much about this area, but I know that there are some small fishing communities that live along the coast. The question will be whether we can find one that will be willing to help a couple lost children in need.

As we continue north the carnage of an empire at its knees starts to thin out. We see fewer chariots, and we see fewer bodies. The sun continues to bake on our skin as we walk, each step becoming harder than the one before. My stomach growls. My mouth becomes increasingly dry. The hot sand feels unrelenting on the bottom of my sandals. I know that there is water not 20 paces to my right, but I know that the salt water will not help anything.

The world grows larger and more complicated in my mind as I begin to understand just how little I knew. Every day I would wake up and go with my mother to Any’s house to do the same tasks every day. We would cook. We would sew new clothing. We would clean the estate. We would do anything that the mistress told us to. It was a modest life, and I am beginning to appreciate the plainness of it all. There is a beauty in simplicity. In the austerity I would find water, food, and a place to lay my head. On top of everything in the straightforwardness of my life, I would have a chance to see the man I love almost every day.

That simplicity seems too far gone.

I believe that the adrenaline has masked the hunger and thirst that both Levi and I have. Finding some sort of sustenance has become the only thing my mind can truly focus on. I have come to this realization over the last hour as I walked with Levi away from the dead man that I hope is not Any. That adrenaline is wearing off for both of us.

“Mar, can you carry me?” Levi’s voice confirms my fear.

“Of course, my love.”

I kneel down for his smaller frame to clamber on to my back. His weight is harder on my muscles than it usually is. With him being 11, the days of running around with him on my back have already drawn to a close. His weight on my back is a stark reminder of time gone by as well as the exhaustion my body faces. He is my life, so I carry on.

As I stand back up supporting the weight of my younger brother, I begin to feel hope because of what I see. I see a small hut against the edge of the water. I have seen some huts like this before where fishermen can store their supplies for the day’s work. My heart begins to rise in my chest as hope of help may be in my future. I quicken my pace as my muscles have found a new speed at which to carry our two bodies.

The sand still burns my feet, and the sun still bakes my skin. I know that we can make it. As we get closer, I hear the sound of the sea that had faded as we walked. The hut is closer now. I can feel the hope in Levi’s body as he holds himself up by my neck. There is something to hold onto as we continue. That something is hope. I push the hope down as we approach the hut. Although I am desperate, I am still conscious of my situation: a Hebrew girl in Egyptian land who is no longer welcomed there.

I let Levi down as we quietly approach the back of the hut. I put my finger up to my lips to keep Levi quiet. I am not sure if that calms him or worsens his anxiety, but he remains quiet, which is what matters most. He comes close as we lean against the back wall. I hear every movement around me, I see every wisp of the breeze, and I feel myself breathing as we round the corner to the side of the hut. The wood is rough against my sunbaked skin, but I continue to hug the edge of the small building.

We stop just short of the next corner of the building. I have not heard a sound other than the sea and our rustling feet since we arrived. I take an extra breath to steady my mind.

I breathe in.

I breathe out.

I reach for Levi’s hand.

We round the corner.