Entry Thirty-Seven:
The events of the past few days have proved to be a distraction for me. I have neglected my Benjamin. In spite of the protestations from the servants, I go to the pool by the river. I must keep him alive, if only in my heart.
On the way, a man accosts me. It is the fist-brandishing man. He spits at me, throws dust in the air, and curses me. It is my doing that this has happened, he yells. My bad parenting has now borne the fruit of evil. His face contorts as he screams out his rage. Others stop and stare. Their presence seems to energize him. His arms flail in the air and I am aware that he is about to attack me physically. I close my eyes, readying myself for the first blow. But then I feel a body come between us…no, not one, but a few. I look. Benjamin’s friends stand between me and the angry man. Their arms are folded, their faces set like flint. They will not move. Soon, his shouting ceases and he moves on, muttering threats under his breathe.
The young men apologize. They attempt to take me home. I protest. I must go down to the river again. They try to dissuade me from my decision, but at last they agree on condition that they go with me. I say no more. O Benjamin, how could you have walked away from such true friends? True friends are rare and ever so hard to find. Do you have friends wherever you are now? These men are closer to me than your brother. I owe them my sanity. We sit by the river and talk about you. They tell me they pray for us…they tell me they pray for your return…they miss you. They ask if I have received any communication from you. I tell them no. They are surprised. But they do not speak ill of you. They say you must be too busy trying to acclimatize…learning new ways, new customs, perhaps a new language. One asks if there is a country where Greek is not spoken? We laugh at our own silliness…but inside we are weeping.
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