chip, was supposed to suffer through this chanting.
There wasn’t even much of a melody, just antiphonal recitation of the many, many, many traits of this particular merman-god.
Dusk came and with it the women of the city. They gifted me with little things, from a circlet of flowers or a perfectly whole
shell to more elaborate gifts like a carved box that was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand or a twist of gold that
formed a ring for my toe. Each woman had a different concern, a request for insight or wisdom, though most of them were domestic
and more than a few were related to sexual matters.
Sex.
I ground my teeth, trying desperately not to let my thoughts go down that pathway. No Cheftu… . Though we’d been married for
two years now, we had yet to live anything resembling a normal life. At this point I’d settle for just being in the same chronology
and the same city.
After they left, I stared up at the stars. My fear, when I’d woken up in modern times, was that I had been cast from Cheftu’s
life. Then, my annoyingly positive side had suggested Cheftu would show up in modern Egypt. On that premise I’d raced off
to the hotel telephone and called my father to try to mend the multitudes of bridges that RaEm had burned, so that if Cheftu
arrived in modern times, we would be able to get him a passport, Social Security number, all the necessary paraphernalia.
But Cheftu hadn’t gotten there before me, or I would have seen him or his tracks in the sand, and he didn’t appear after me,
because I had not left the site for more than ten minutes. That was when I’d made my phone calls and lain on Cammy’s bed.
Wow, how good a mattress felt.
When I’d realized that Cheftu hadn’t turned up and probably wasn’t going to, I’d concluded the only way for us to be together
was for me to go find him. Here. Wherever, in the grand scheme of things, here really was. Israel? Palestine? Jordan? Philistine
land?
Canaan
, my internal lexicon corrected.
Cheftu, are you here? I wondered, ignoring the lexicon. Do you sleep close to me and I don’t even know it? I touched my hair,
still matted but red. I was in my own skin. Be safe, beloved, I thought as my eyes closed. I’m coming for you, so wherever
you are, be safe.
S HE WASN’T SAFE with him, Cheftu thought. Never had he been so persuaded that homicide was a valid consideration. If she complained once
more, if she whined even one more time, he would take great delight in silencing her forever. With his bare hands.
What had he done to deserve being trapped with this witch? Which god had he offended? What circle of hell was he condemned
to?
“Are you listening, Cheftu?”
RaEmhetepet. Dear gods, how did he end up confined on a plot of land not big enough to be called an island with RaEm? He glanced
at the sky, gray and hazy, and wondered if this was his punishment for some heinous sin he didn’t recall committing.
I’m sorry, he said to the clouds. I beg for mercy. They’d been here for a day. For a full day RaEm had complained. First about
her burned body, then about the weather, then about him, then about how dirty she was, then about how hungry she was, then
that she was cold, then starving to death. Her thoughts came full circle, and she’d started complaining about him again. Next
she began describing meals she had eaten. Cheftu had decided to do something at that point.
Now he tugged at the line dangling in the water, hoping that RaEm’s ear bauble would pass as bait.
Please
, le bon Dieu,
let there be fish.
Already his mouth was watering at the thought of food.
It had been days since he’d had a real meal. Days since he’d not been fleeing destruction and death. The time portal had opened
while he was holding Chloe’s hands, promising her fidelity. Her fingers had slipped from his handhold as she had vanished
from his sight.
Then light had encapsulated him, pulling him upward through fire