ITU Tel Aviv General Hospital

I had spent countless hours in hospital waiting rooms at GOSH when Wesley was sick. In another waiting room, in a different country, I shared my plan with Sean, Joseph and Esther.

"No, John," Esther said. "I can't allow it...it's a nonsensical scheme."

"Esther," Joseph patted her hand. "I trust these people...and time is running out."

She finally surrendered to our appeals, laid aside her training and experience, and reluctantly agreed to our plan. She beckoned us to follow her to the critical care unit where Simeon lay sedated in a private room, hooked up to several drips and monitors. His shallow breathing rattled through his mask. Esther left me in the room, her hands shaking.
I spoke with Simeon, unsure if he could hear me or understand.

"Simeon," I whispered in his ear, "can you hear me? It's John. I'm here with Joseph and Sean."

He opened his eyes and nodded slightly, dazed. The strong smell of cleaning fluid and burnt flesh filled my nostrils. I took a breath, staring at my friend's inflamed skin and blackened body, and gave Sean a nod.

Sean unhooked the intravenous feeds and monitor cables, and the machine started to beep. I turned off the power. Simeon gasped for air, moaned and struggled when Sean removed the oxygen mask and lifted him up in his arms. I winced at Simeon's grimace.

"Sorry, me bucko, don't fret; it won't be long now," Sean soothed.

In the bathroom, water slapped against the sides of a massive ceramic bath. The steam was damp on my shirt. Esther dipped her elbow in the water and nodded. I pulled the drawstrings of the bag and tipped the entire contents into the bath water: it was not the time to think of saving any.

"OK, let's ease him in." I gently stirred the leaves around with my right hand.

Esther breathed a prayer, "Jehovah Rapha, be our Healer. Be our Mizpah today."

Simeon's neck and head were undamaged by the burns. His lobster-like body seemed to relax after a few minutes of soaking. Water spilled over the bath onto the tiles, soaking our feet as he wallowed in the bath water and gradually woke up. Footsteps sounded in the corridor. When Sean gently lifted him out of the water, we gasped. The inflamed and blackened flesh had metamorphosed into that of a newborn baby.

"Quickly, put this on him. Just let it hang," Esther said, passing us a light blue surgical gown from a peg. We surreptitiously walked the drenched and dripping figure along the hospital corridor, frogmarching him towards the exit.

"For God's sake, somebody pull his gown together," Sean whispered. "I can see his wobbly arse." Esther adjusted the gown while we walked, quickening our pace.

Passing a hospital porter adjacent to the main hospital doors, Joseph assuaged his curiosity.

"My brother needs a breath of fresh air." Esther, in her nurse's uniform, nodded with an air of authority.

In the rear of Esther's yellow Nissan, Simeon seemed to grow aware of the car's movement.

"The sedation is wearing off," Esther said, turning the wheel. When he asked where we were going, Esther replied, "Home, Daddy. We're going home."

At Simeon's house, Sean and I called a cab, leaving Joseph and Esther to explain to the female police officer what had occurred. Apparently, she applauded when told of the capture of the kidnappers but didn't understand why Simeon was wearing a hospital gown. I heard the next morning that Joseph helped to dress him and then he stayed the night.

Both exhausted and elated, we entered the hotel. Our mood changed when Josh met us with a sullen face. He explained that Mossad had tipped him off that the local police were coming to arrest us all on Friday morning. Something to do with jurisdiction.

"What!" I said. "I can't believe my ears!"

Josh shrugged apologetically.

With Josh's room booked for one more night, we assembled and sampled his hospitality bar. James, equally elated at our news but dumbfounded at the impending arrest, called the girls on Skype. They were thrilled at Simeon's miracle.

Overjoyed at the capture of the kidnappers, Liz, Becky and Aly registered shock to hear our other news. Before Sean, James and I retired for the night, I wanted to express a concern.

"I don't know why I was chosen to be given the box." I said. "The healing leaves have certainly proved their power."

"They sure have, Boss. It's a shame we've none left," Sean said.

I think he knew what occupied my thinking. Despite our differences, we did seem able to read each other's minds.

James said, "That's true, Dad. What are you thinking?"

"I think," I said, "we have to face up to the possibility of using the maps and documents one day. We may have to find Eden and its tree. It sounds corny...but I think it's part of my destiny." I felt foolish for saying it.

"It sounds good to me, Boss. If anyone can put a team together with a plan, you can," Sean said, resting his hand on my shoulder. "That's something to think about, huh? But I bet if we get to the garden they won't let me in," Sean added. "Look," he said, showing me the tattoo on his hand. "Mine is the snake, you got angels. Mind you, I'll tell you what's weird, but don't freak out. I went back to that tattoo parlour a few weeks later and it wasn't there, and I asked locals and they looked mystified. They said there never was a tattooist there. Strange huh?"

I felt chills.