Fallen (42 page)

“Did he take the message seriously?”

“He seemed to,” I replied.

Only then did Gershom relax and pick up his sandwich.

“We both wondered though…how you knew of him.”

Those words made Gershom choke.

After I was done whacking his back and he was breathing freely again
,
I explained. “I mean…Eran died so long ago. How could you possibly know him?”

“Yes, that’s…that’s an understandable question,” he said
,
even though he looked
like he was
at a loss for words. He cleared his throat
, giving me
the impression it was to drag out the answer. When he did explain though, it made sense to
me. “I’d heard stories
about Eran
from my family be
fore…before we were separated
.”

“Really?” I was instantly
far more curious than I had been a moment ago
. “What stories?”

“Well…
” he
said
, relaxing and stretching his legs out in front of him before continuing. “As you know
,
he died at
Gettysburg
. B
ut
, before that he lived a
wild life
…and I mean that literally
.
He’d grown up on a Native American reservation with his parents – even though they were white - and as a test of courage he’d provoke mountain lions, bears,
and other animals most
people did
their best to avoid.
Eran
did it
simply to fight them
.”

“
No kidding
?” I was impressed and didn’t bother hiding it. Apparently Gershom had just as much respect for Eran as I did because
he spoke with wide eyes and exclamations
as he
recounted
the story of Eran’s last life on earth
.
It was a side of Gershom I’d never seen before.

“Eran rejected his heritage and lived out his life in the backwoods. Most said he slept in caves or makeshift tents but others believed that he built a remote cabin far from any
commonly
used trails.”

“A cabin?” I asked, dazed and wondering whether I’d
been to
the recreated version of it.

“Right, somewhere near a lake.”

Yes
…
yes
,
I
believe I
had.

“
H
e stayed mostly to himself, only going
into
town for supplies. Then the Civil War broke out and he volunteered. From what I heard, that was unexpected…because he
was so
reclusive.
But
,
it turned out he was a good fighter.
There was this one time during the war
he told his commanders that their
defense
strategy was flawed. They refused to believe him. So, later that night, he gathered a group of men and went out to dig holes in the area where they were most exposed.
Then they
covered the holes with fallen leaves and branches. At morning light, just as they were heading back to their tents, they felt the ground begin to
shake
and when they turned they found a group of eighty men charging their camp. Eran and his five m
en – just five men –
turned to face
the challenge head on.
But t
he traps worked
.
They captured every one of their attackers
.
Their camp was saved and no one died…that day
,
anyways.”

Eran had mentioned he was a fighter.
This
story alone proved it to me.

“I can see that
in him
…
him
doing that,” I said, trying not to show how seriously I
had become
attracted to Eran.

Gershom
didn’t seem to notice. He simply
nodde
d fervently and went on. “There i
s story after story of how he could never be beat in a fist fight, without ever striking his opponent.”

“
W
ithout making contact
?
How did he…win then?
”
I asked
in earnest
, reminding myself to contain my enthusiasm.

“He had some fancy way of fighting were he’d avoid punches, wearing down his attacker until they gave in. Leaning back just before the fist would
land
and
jumping up on
tables
and chairs…
to get out of the way…that sort of thing. They said it looked like he was fencing - but without a foil.”

So Eran was good at fencing
,
too. Figures…

“And he was
liked
by the woman too…” Gershom smiled slyly
. W
hile
the words left his mouth my stomach writhed in knots.

“
Oh
?” I muttere
d
,
far less enthusiastic
.

“
They fawned over him,” said Gershom, taking a bite of his sandwich and nodding. “But he didn’t pay any attention
to them
. There was only one true love
for him. They grew up together – on the reservation – went to school together, and eventually married. They were inseparable.”

Slowly,
as Gershom’s words settled
,
an
enormous lump rose up in my throat.

Eran ha
d loved someone before,
truly loved her
so much that no other woman could pry his attention away.
Inseparable was what Gershom had
just
said. Inseparable on earth so
much that they went through life together and he never appeared to
even
glance at another woman.
Instantly, I felt a wave of jealousy rush over me, which I subconsciously
acknowledged was
ridiculous. There was no way I had any chance with someone like him
.
I shouldn’t have been so upset to learn he found someone to partner with in a way that was more than business.

So where was she now
? Not at the cabin, his private residence where he never brought anyone.
And he’d never mentioned her. Not once! You’d think if she had that much importance in one of his past lives that he’d bring her up at least once!

Then it struck me. Maybe this was the secret Eran didn’t want to disclose. Maybe this was what Eran refused to tell me
during
that last night with him.
He probably
saw
the
unmistakable
longing in me
, which
would make perfect sense as to why he was now
avoid
ing
me
. He had his one true love
,
and he
didn’t
want
to lead me on any further.

Jealousy was swiftly replaced with
acute
humiliation.

Gershom was still talking though I wasn’t paying
any
attention. I was trying to keep from blacking out.

“They said her name was M
-
something
.
Margo…Madeline…
Margaret! Yes, that’s it! Margare
t! Margaret
Talor.”

My breath
ing
stopped
completely
.
I recognized that name.
“
A
re you sure?”

Gershom stared at me innocently. “Yeah.”

Margaret Talor…Margaret Talor…Margaret Talor…
calm
down
, I told myself. Could it be? Was that the name I saw on my list of past lives?
The one from
Gettysburg
,
Pennsylvania
? The one that died the same day Eran had died?
Instantly
,
I thought back to the scroll,
my
scroll…
b
ut I already knew the answer.
At the time,
I hadn’t paid attention so much to the names as I did to the coincidence of the dates and places of death
,
yet
some narrow part of my consciousness had caught it.

I had been Margaret Talor.

That
was Eran’s secret
.

It felt
as if the world around me stopped. Nothing moved. There was no sound.

I had been Eran’s wife.

Gershom’s quiet, patient voice found its way
into
my numb world.

“Um…are you okay?”
he
asked, tipping his head
toward
my sandwich which was now nothing more than a blob of colors squished
inside
my fist.

At this realization I released my breath to
laugh
at myself.
“I think so. At least I think I will be.”

“Wow…” Gershom muttered, watching me
dubiously
.

“It’s okay…I’m okay…”

He nodded though it didn’t look like he believed me.

“Here.” He passed me a napkin
to wipe what used to be my sandwich off the palm of my hand.
“Better get a grip. We have
visitor
s
.”