Chapter 17

Debbie looked at the hole in the ground. This was not just a little hole in the ground. There was a building carved out of rock right in the middle of the hole. The building was two stories tall and carved into the shape of a cross. Awed by the amount of work that it must have taken to carve the building out of the surrounding rock, she said, “This church is carved from the rock.”

“That’s right. This is the famous Bet Giorgis church of Lalibela. It was carved about nine hundred years ago during the reign of King Lalibela,” Oscar said while walking around the rim of the excavation. It was a huge hole.

“Why did he do that?” Georgia asked.

Oscar said, “It is said that Saint George, mounted on his horse and wearing his armor, appeared to King Lalibela and asked why a church had not been constructed for him. King Lalibela promised that he would build a church of great beauty. This is the church he built.”

“It is definitely impressive,” Debbie said.

Looking down at the building, Oscar said, “I think it is amazing what people can accomplish when motivated by a greater power. When we get to Egypt, we’ll go to some of the minor pyramids.”

“They were built by slaves,” Georgia said.

“No, they weren’t. They were built by skilled craftsmen who worked in the employ of the Pharaohs,” Debbie said. She had watched a special on the pyramids while in Israel and had found the topic fascinating.

Oscar looked down at the church and said, “I’ll climb down. Do you want to go with me?”

Debbie looked at the climb down. She wanted to see the inside of the church more than she dreaded the trip down and back. Nodding her head, she said, “I’ll go.”

Georgia frowned at the thought of the climb down and back. She looked over at Debbie wondering why she was willing to exert the effort. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “Okay.”

The trio went down into the excavation and over to the church. Georgia hung back thinking she would spend the time waiting outside like usual. Debbie stood behind Oscar trying to see inside the church.

Oscar hit the butt end of his staff on the door. The echo was strangely muted as if it recognized that volume wasn’t necessary. Surprised by the knock, a monk came to the door and looked at Oscar. He asked, “What do you want?”

“I am the Druid Oscar Meyers and I seek entry into this church.”

“Sure, come in,” the monk said puzzled by the request. They had many tourists, some of whom weren’t of the faith. He wondered why the man went through the formality of asking for entry.

From behind him, a deep voice said, “Enter Druid Oscar Meyers and bring your wives with you.”

The monk stepped back and walked off with a puzzled expression on his face. He went over to where candles were burning and straightened up the area. It looked to Oscar as if the man didn’t even see them anymore.

The smell of roses filled the air. Oscar entered the building and paused to look at the frescos on the walls. The colors were as bright as the day they had been painted. He walked to the center of the building and said, “I have come to hear your message.”

The voice replied, “You have a different need.”

Debbie stood behind Oscar turning slowly to look at every detail. The hard rock, softened by the diffuse light, was covered with frescos and icons. The altar at the head of the room was covered with items of gold. In a soft voice, she said, “This is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” the voice from the altar said a moment before Debbie fell to the ground. She started to have a seizure, her body thrashing around on the floor as if she were being electrocuted. The expression on her face suggested that she was being tortured.

Terrified by what was happening to her wife, Georgia ran to Debbie. A softly glowing shield prevented her from reaching her wife. She knelt down as if to crawl under the shield. Oscar turned and looked down at Debbie with a pleased smile on his face. He said, “Georgia, leave her alone. This is a private matter.”

Georgia looked up at Oscar with tears in her eyes. It seemed to her that the seizure was lasting forever. Hardly able to breath, she said, “She’s being hurt.”

Shaking his head, Oscar said, “No, she’s not.”

Once it dawned on her that this was the same as when she had been given the gift of languages, a single thought came to her. ‘Please let her keep the red hair.’

An amused chuckle filled the air. The voice said, “She shall keep her red hair and green eyes.”

Oscar lowered his head and said, “Thank you.”

Georgia looked around the room at the priests and monks. They were walking around as if nothing was happening. She waved at one of them, but he looked past her. An elderly priest kneeled off to the side of the altar; his lips moving in prayer. It seemed to her that he was the only one in the room who realized that something was happening. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a small wooden cross around the man’s neck.

The deep voice said, “You have done well in your service, Oscar Meyers. It will last only a little longer.”

“Thank you,” Oscar said.

“Take her to the sun where she will recover,” the voice said slowly descending in volume until the last word was the barest whisper. The scent of roses slowly disappeared.

Noticing them for the first since they had entered, the youngest priest approached them. He knelt down beside Debbie. With concern in his voice, he asked, “Is she all right?”

Georgia and Oscar knelt down to help Debbie to her feet. She looked from one to the other with eyes that wouldn’t focus. Oscar said, “She’ll be all right once we get her outside.”

“I can get her some water,” the priest said.

“No thank you. We just need to get her into the sun,” Oscar said giving the priest a short nod of his head. He appreciated the offer, but felt it was more important to get her outside.

Between the two of them, Oscar and Georgia managed to carry Debbie out of the church. Putting her where she was in the sun, Georgia held her wife in her arms. With a worried expression, she said, “Oh honey, I was so worried about you.”

Debbie brushed a hand across her face as if trying to move a hair from in front of her eyes. She missed and repeated the gesture a second time before giving up. Speaking in Twi! Debbie answered, “I’m fine.”

Georgia chuckled and said, “Sure you are, my little African bushman.”

Even Oscar had to laugh at that. Shaking his head, he knelt beside Debbie and said, “Just relax; everything is going to be all right.”

“I must have stepped on a wire or something,” Debbie said in Japanese. She shook her head trying to clear the cobwebs out of it.

“It was the ‘or something’ that you experienced,” Georgia said lifting a hand to her white hair. She remembered the disorientation she had experienced after being struck by lightening in the middle of the field in Pakistan.

“What do you mean?” This time her question was in German.

“You were given the gift of languages,” Georgia said.

Debbie slowly turned to look at Georgia. After a few seconds, she grabbed a lock of her hair and looked at it. Relieved, she said, “It’s still red.”

“Yeah. You get to keep your pretty red locks and I’m stuck with granny hair,” Georgia said shaking her head. She added, “It’s not fair.”

“Hey, I like your hair,” Oscar said.

“Pervert.”

“Pervert.”

Oscar caught a glance of something odd when he looked down at Debbie when she echoed Georgia’s declaration of him as a pervert. Her shirt had come unbuttoned as a result of their carrying her outdoors; exposing a little of her chest. He reached over and unbuttoned another button. Georgia said, “What are you doing?”

Looking at the area right over Debbie’s heart, he said, “I like the tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” Debbie asked.

Georgia looked around and down at Debbie’s chest. Putting a hand over her mouth, she said, “It looks like a knight on horseback killing a dragon with a lance.”

“Saint George,” Oscar said. He smiled at the expression on Debbie’s face and said, “Don’t look so worried. I think it looks kind of sexy.”

“Pervert.”

“Pervert.”

Debbie stared up at the monster obelisk with a grin. Georgia took one look at her wife and said, “She’s getting ideas.”

“Why do you think I wanted to come here?” Oscar asked.

Georgia said, “Pervert.”

“Big pointy topped erections,” Debbie said pointing to the obelisk. She repeated it in German and French, but decided that she liked how it sounded in English the best. Gesturing to the field of obelisks, she added, “Lots of them.”

Looking over at Oscar, Georgia said, “I guess you aren’t the only pervert around here.”

Oscar laughed and said, “There are some trees over there. I’m sure that we won’t be disturbed.”

The guard on duty at the largest obelisk watched the three of them walk off to the trees. It was an odd group of people. The red head was wearing blue jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and tennis shoes. The white haired woman was wearing combat boots and army fatigues. The man was wearing a robe and a cloak. The guard would have gone to see what they were doing, but the thought slipped out of his mind as fast as it had come to him. Shifting, he adjusted the rifle so that it was more comfortable and settled down to watch his surroundings.