A Light in Damascus

About an hour later, through the dry ground and harsh heat, we had almost arrived. According to Paul, he was receiving special directions in his head from God himself, which is super cool. Although it definitely defeats the point of me. To be honest, I don’t really mind.

He’s light. Manageable. He has somehow failed to whine since I picked him up. Sometimes he would worry me with stretches of nothing said, until he ruined the peace by correcting my direction.

Glittering like a jewel amidst the dry shrubs and dusty desert was Damascus.

“Pretty…”

“What? You’re here already?”

"You directed me well!"

"But... still-"

"Still... right, how do you suppose we get in, Paul?"

"My name should suffice."

Does he see himself right now? Oh. 

"I don't think that'll work, Paul. I have an idea! Play dead or something.”

“I will do no such thing.”

If he says so, but I’m going right ahead. Perhaps the guards might look a bit sympathetic.

“Good day, sirs!”

With attempted menace, they looked down. Only to jerk back in fear.

“What the-!”

“What- who do you have on your shoulders, young one?”

I could’ve sworn you were more famous than this, Paul.

“My Dad here got injured in a car accident. Not to worry, if I head in quick, I’ll ensure he gets aid.”

“A car? What the heck is a car?” he muttered in my ear.

“How are you carrying him?”

I glanced down. His arm was shaky, and reaching toward his sword. It almost made me roll my eyes.

That said, the extra trouble- a fight in the physical layer- is the opposite of what I need.

“I’m… a short…farmer!!”

They stared at me. I didn’t like the stares. So I fumbled around for a bit, almost searching for proof. All I could offer was a sweet smile.

“I… I suppose that’s believable.”

“What? In what way is that believable?” the other guard protested.

“Think about it, Gaius. A short adult. It’s possible.”

“But look at its face! It has to be 8 or something!”

It?

I endured their bickering until Gaius was duly convinced.

“Shall we open the gates?”

I brushed their efforts aside with a smile.

“No need. I’ll just-”

“No, that won’t do. You must be exhausted!”

I had planned on grabbing both sides of the monumental oval-shaped gates, and pushing forward. As it turns out, there was a mini door within the door. How convenient!

“Hgnnh!”

I climbed through, and the verdant gardens of Damascus greeted me themselves.

“Pretty…”

“Child!”

“R-right!”

I waved back at the guards, and journeyed forward yet again.

Beyond the gardens was a bustling city. Yes indeed. The Sunlight filtered through the awnings of the market stalls, and it glinted off the bronze and iron.

Yet, people seemed far more concerned with the man on my back. He couldn’t see the eyes, but he could certainly feel them, reaching for his clothes before attempting to cover his face.

Ok. Maybe I was being a bit too showboaty. Had he not been on my back, I would’ve zipped through here anyway.

Actually, maybe that’s what I should do! He can give me directions. Afterwards, we’ll move faster than they can see. It’s a perfect idea.

“Um… Paul.”

“DO NOT!”

What the-!

Why is he so loud now?

“DO NOT! I REPEAT, DO NOT! DO NOT MOVE WITH HASTE. DO NOT!”

“But why? It’s the best choice I have here.”

“No, it isn’t, child; use your common sense! You’ll snap my neck if you move that fast!”

What kind of visions is God sending him? Scary.

“And better yet, PUT ME DOWN!”

I realized the sheer number of eyes that were laid upon me at that moment. Even larger than before. Fair enough, Paul.

“How do you suppose I guide you now? Shall I hold your hand?”

“You shall not.”

This is getting tiring.

I instead grabbed onto his hand’s clothing. Luckily, he seemed far more ok with that.

“Where to next then?”

“I had my men prepare me a house in advance. It’s by a street named Straight.”

Some name.

“Do you have holy directions on that?”

“Yes.”

“Nice. Then straight ahead it is!”

“Actually, it’s down the left.”

Of course it is.

We moved at a slower pace now. Eventually, we did arrive at a high, drab, windowless house. In front of it, a lone man was rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Is this the place, Paul?”

“I have no more directions to give.”

“Paul? Who’s Paul?” the man asked.

“Saul.” he said, with the bitterness of someone correcting me for sport.

"Saul. Saul, Saul, Saul... SAUL?"

He rushed away from us and crawled into a nervous ball.

"Saul? That's Saul? That's the Saul? Oh heavens, I almost messed up severely!"

What is he muttering about?

“Oh, hello there, dear Saul; it’s so nice to have you here!” the man before us spoke again.

Now, he was going to walk, until he truly surveyed the scene again. I found his thin finger pointed at me. 

“Wait, where’s the rest of you?”

...

Aw man… I forgot about them! I was too focused on making the tingle stop! I should head back and-

No, wait, do I have to? I mean, being here made the tingle stop. I don’t exactly want it to start up again. Will it start up again?

“They should be on their way,” Paul replied.

“On their way?”

He seemed to process the words. Then, he looked up at Paul.

“Is.. he ok?”

Making a show, I looked from side to side. Then, I leaned in as he bent down to hear me whisper.

“He’s blind,” I said quietly.

He continued to watch us.

“Hmm.”

The second I said that, he took us to a worse house. 

“Sorry, do tell, how far away are they? Also, please do come in!”

The only indication that this slog of a building was a home was the heavy wooden door that sat deep in the plain archway. And what it led to was nothing particularly special either. A dimly lit room, with a singular bed for our troubles.

Wait, does this mean that the other guys would’ve slept on the floor? I mean, the way the man acts, you’d think they’re rich or something. Hang on, where was I meant to wash? Or… do other things?

The man’s words cut through my thoughts. “Now if you need anything, please feel free to call my servants from the next house. Alright?”

“Mm.” I nodded.

For some reason, he waited by the door with his hand still open. It looked rough and thin.

“For the trouble,” he said.

“Oh,” I replied. “Sorry, I have no trouble to give you.”

“Coin, child.”

“Oh.”

I searched my rags as his smile suffered slowly.

“Sorry, I have no coin to give you either.”

“Of course you don’t. Of course. Mhm. Well, have a nice stay, sir!”

He took his exit, but not before he whispered the word ‘Miser’. I’m not sure I’ve heard that word. Whatever he meant, I’m sure he didn’t want Paul to hear it.

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