Chapter 8
The Desert Thief ~ continued from Chapter 8 | Never Going Back
Shimea looked at his younger brother and saw a determination that had never been there before in his ruddy, young features.
“Where do we go?” Shimea asked.
“We have close to 100 days to make a plan,” David said.
“Agreed,” Shimea said as the wagon bumped along the desert trails.
“I know these camels,” Yazan, the youngest camel puller, said to David, “but they pay me nothing, not enough to pay for new sandals after I wear these poor ones out.”
He lifted up his ragged and broken leather sandals. “See?” One camel turned and spat on his feet.
The two boys became friends with the camel pullers and the men working the files. Each file consisted of 18 camels and each puller had to understand his camels to ensure their health, because a sick camel would mean cargo would be lost.
The most experienced camel puller became the “Sir,” the boss of the camel pullers while the man in charge of the cargo, the “super cargo,” was simply the owner’s eyes and ears. Each camel puller was in charge of his file and the lead camels. The front camel was attached to a rope that a camel puller would hold, while the rest of the camels were also held together in a string line.
“No, Baby,” Yazan said.
Baby was an Arabian camel weighing 2,000 pounds and standing 7.5 feet high.
Yazan lifted up a date so that Baby could reach down and take it in her mouth. She looked at him and shook her large head.
“The loaders put too much weight on her so she is not happy today,” Yazan said. “But I will change for tomorrow.”
The great beast snorted and put her head down toward Yazan.
“They don’t store water; they store fat,” Yazan said. “This I know and I know all about them. Someday I will have enough camels to run a file and I will pay money out,” he laughed. “But now I will clean my poor sandals.”
The boys laughed and walked on foot up and down the great sand dunes that flowed one into the other along the caravan line.
The next morning the caravan awoke to howling winds and a sandstorm from the south with sand that rose more than 30 feet high.
“Hurry,” shouted Yazan into the wind.
The two boys hid underneath the wagon. Shimea dragged a bag of grain and placed it in front of them as they hid from the storm.
Yazan was hunkered down with Baby not far away as the wind picked up and beat about the caravan.
All the camels had dropped to their feet and were lying in the sand, heads down against the storm.
“It can last for days or minutes,” Yazan called to the boys. He held onto his head scarf and bent down again.
David clung to the spoke of the wooden wheel. His eyes were stinging from the wind and sand but there under the supply wagon and in the storm he saw a clear path. He would write to his mother who had a friend at Saul’s court.
“I’ll never see Bethlehem again,” he thought. He held tight to the wagon wheel. He did not yet know what he would be but he knew he wasn’t a farmer like Shimea or a hunter like his brothers.
As the sand swirled about the caravan his thoughts became clear. He returned to the lion he had killed and how everything had seemed to slow down, the heat of the day, his own breathing and the grave threat all came in segments like an orange that had to be picked in a certain way so that all would be safe from danger. There in the darkness of the storm he saw a great light box and its light covered the world. It blinded him but when he opened his eyes it was gone.
The sandstorm continued blowing through the caravan, the wind howling as a young animal might if left out in the cold for too long.
Shimea yelled into the storm. “What do we do?”
“We wait.”
David spat out sand and brushed his eyes.
Yazan and Baby were buried in the spot they had chosen.
David slowly let go of the wagon and felt calm. He breathed deeply and saw a new life for himself and his brother.
Suddenly large, rough hands grabbed David’s feet and pulled him from under the wagon. Two large men dressed in camel pullers’ clothes, their faces hidden by keffiyehs, grabbed him; they tied his arms behind his back and quickly forced him towards a camel that was standing head down in the wind.
“Shimea,” he yelled to no avail. The wind and sand drowned out his cries.
Shimea quickly got up from the wagon and looked around but did not see his brother. A camel brayed in the distance and he saw the shadows of two beasts moving against the winds.
“David,” he called out. “David!”
He ran to the front of the wagon and desperately scanned the desert for his brother. He heard the camels braying again and saw the faint outline of Yazan and Baby still buried in the sand.
He pushed his way toward Yazan.
“Yazan,” he called into the wind. “Yazan.”
The sand pushed him back and he held his head scarf over his mouth and nose.
“Yazan,” he said as he tried once more to make his way against the wind. He then knelt and in a slow, crouching movement made his way toward the young camel puller.
“Yazan,” Shimea gasped as he collapsed next to the boy.
Yazan looked up in confusion.
“What?” He pulled his scarf tightly around his face and neck.
“They have taken David,” Shimea yelled into his friend’s ear.
“What, who?”
“I don’t know,” Shimea pointed to the wagon. “Men by camel.”
He suddenly thought back to the night David was attacked by the Moab.
“The Moab priest,” he said to himself.
Yazan pulled himself out of the hole he had dug and wiped his hair and face.
“They will not get far in this.”
He stretched his hand out into the storm.
“Yazan, we have to go after him,” Shimea grabbed his friend’s arm. “We must go.”
“Wait, wait.”
Yazan shook off the cloak of sand and bent low to the ground. They both made for the supply wagon and hid underneath as more sand was churned up by the wind.
Baby grunted loudly as Yazan moved away and then buried her head in the sand again.
“Listen, listen,” Yazan said as he coughed up the sand he had swallowed. “Yes, we will go, but they cannot go far and I know the next watering hole they will make for. It’s three days away.”
“Yazan,” Shimea shook with anger. “If anything happens….” he clutched at Yazan’s rough woolen tunic.
“Yes, yes.” Yazan looked into Shimea’s eyes. “We will get him back. Nobody knows this desert as I do.”
Continue reading… Chapter 8 | The Fat Thief
[…] Chapter 8 The Desert Thief ~ continued from Chapter 8 | They Have Taken David […]