Pillars In The Sand

I held Caleb's and St Peter's maps in my hand. On the former, a red-inked circle indicated an area just east of Hebron. Caleb's notes, made after his meeting with his nephews, indicated an uncharted area. A collection of sand dunes skirted the road.

"Let's go off the road here." We bumped across the wilderness to explore. The area was truly 'off road', making me glad we had a vehicle that could handle the terrain. Clouds of sand blew up as we drove. The air conditioning blew strongly on our faces. On the skyline, palms stood tall.

"A wadi," Josh said, "let's head for it, but be careful what you say. We'll see if we can stay here the night."

Sean pulled hard on the steering wheel and the Land Rover jumped, skidded and blasted sand as it lurched forward. Goats bleated as we approached the oasis. Some of the goat herders, clothed as I imagined people would have been in biblical times, stood up as we approached. We parked the Discovery and walked through the sand, which was like walking through treacle. Under the shade of the palm trees, the goat herders shared their food and water with us, smiling and chatting with Josh in Yiddish. He told us they had agreed to let us spend the night at the oasis.

I shivered and drew nearer to the campfire as I read aloud from a pamphlet in the moonlight. "Hebron, a city south of Jerusalem, was where Abraham buried his wife Sarah, also where David was originally crowned king, and where he reigned for his first seven and a half years." Hebron, I explained, was spelt 'chevron' in Hebrew and one of its meanings was to join or unite.

The goat herders led their flocks to a small pasture area and lay down to sleep.

"I need a wee," Becky said. We cautioned her to be careful and to take our torch.

Becky trudged through the sand, pointing her torch beam on the ground. Over her head, bright stars twinkled in the moonlit sky. She passed some small rocks and walked a few steps, searching for a discrete place to pee. Under a rock overhang, she took another step and stubbed her foot on a rock. Tumbling head over heels, she fell several feet but managed to hold on to her torch. Rolling down a high sand bank, she landed in a trench.

Annoyed at her predicament, she dropped her pants and urinated. Then she stood up on her painful ankle and thought she saw a reflected surface in the moonlight. "What on earth?" she said.

She limped through the heavy sand, her torch beam illuminating shapes ahead. Slowly taking a few laboured paces, to her dismay she saw that the shapes had vanished. "A mirage," she said, "it must be." Then in the moonlight, she saw reflections again. She wielded the torch beam in her right hand, feeling her way ahead with her left. There, she discovered two very thin pillars joined by an archway.

"It's not marble, or metal, or stone, or wood. It feels solid yet pliable too. It's cold and yet it feels almost liquid smooth. What on earth is it?" she asked herself.

Then she saw the writing and drawing under the arch and knew she had found the gateway to Eden.

We were getting very anxious by the time we saw Becky's torchlight beam coming over a dune 30 minutes later. She was so excited by the discovery that the words tumbled out and she barely noticed Josh tenderly examining her ankle, until he strapped it up and she winced.

"Two pillars?" I asked for clarity, when she came to the part about the archway.
Becky smiled and nodded.

We were perplexed how no one else had so far discovered the pillars and determined to explore the area the next day at sun-up.

*

The next morning at dawn, we were woken by the sound of men's voices and the jingling of bells. The nomadic goat herders were awake and watering their flocks, and would soon be on their way. Eager to return their hospitality, we shared our food with them. Josh explained what each army ration package contained and they ate with gusto.

Lifting our rucksacks onto our shoulders, we followed Becky into the desert, spreading out but keeping within sight of one another to look for the rock overhang. I noticed some nesting birds hovering and then saw them drop out of sight.

"Let's try over here," I called out, estimating where the birds had landed. We fought against the sand as if it was swamp mire and were relieved when we found the overhang. Becky came panting and hobbling behind us.

"This is it," she said, and looked for the place where she had stumbled. Sean forward rolled down the sand dune and stopped at the trench. We were just beginning to feel discouraged and were about to look for another trench when Sean shouted, "Here!" and pointed to the pillars and the archway jutting out of the sand.

Quickly digging around the two obelisks, we found they were taller than a man, similar to the ones at Gobekli. There was a drawing on each stone and writing across the archway. Josh interpreted the words. "The joined hands." The shapes and material were like nothing I had ever seen. We walked around the stones, through the arch and under it, examining the area from every angle. The stones were as thin as a wafer, so it was no surprise they had remained undiscovered if they had only ever been seen from the front. The writings and drawings were identical to those on the other side. I dusted off the drawings and noticed under each drawing a shelf-like indentation.

Unsure whether this was something important, we sat under the shade of the stones and tried to fathom the mystery. Then Becky, who was examining the drawings again, remarked that they looked like a serpent and a devil on the left stone and a golden angel with leaves on the right stone.

"Don't you see, Dad," Becky said with a confident smile, "it's your and Sean's tattoos!"
Sean and I took a careful look and saw that she was correct. We were in the right place! The drawings matched our tattoos. But where was the garden?

"Try placing your hand on the shelf," Josh suggested, "the arch mentions hands". Sean inserted his left hand into one stone and I inserted my right hand into the other. Nothing happened.

"Try holding your other hands," Becky prompted, "the arch says 'Joined hand of God'. Hebron means joined, doesn't it?"

"This doesn't mean we're swapping spit in the shower," Sean said.

We joined hands, feeling foolish until we noticed something happening like miniature lightning. Under the archway between the pillars, a swirling blue haze appeared like a whirlpool. The opaque mist cleared, leaving a circular image of a beautiful garden that was as tall as a man.

"Wow!" I said. "James, eat your heart out!"

Sean, whistling the Indiana Jones theme tune, placed his hand through the portal. He pushed up to his elbow, and then further, winking at us as he walked through the picture. Each of us followed in turn. Once through, we looked backwards and could see the two pillars and the archway but without the picture. Were we trapped? We felt it was not a trap but a doorway.

The Garden of Eden! We floated more than trod on the softest and greenest grass I had ever seen. It was like walking on silk. The rolling lush grassland hill led up to an oasis. The clear blue sky above had a rainbow, yet no clouds. We were mystified how this beautiful location could be hidden in the dunes. We walked along a pathway made of what looked like marble, but it was not marble. It felt like being in a science fiction plot.

Sean said, "Sorry folks, I know this is serious 'n all but I can't resist this," and he started singing, "We're off to the see the wizard..."

We were not on a yellow brick road, although I suspected a supernatural encounter awaited us.