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LOVE CHASE The mood weighed Mr. Shaw heavy with sorrow. I, on the other hand, felt sure I drew nearer to my ultimate goal of solving his puzzle. At the close of our last session my head filled with the adventurous life Tanu would surely become part of by joining Tammer's ranks. I longed to hear of it. Yet I knew a deep tragedy lingered at the onset for Sheba and her man. Such a parting could only bring incredible grief for a young, childless couple. No less would the tale be teeming with woe for a primitive hunter as he leaves the simple ways and moves into a world totally unknown to him. My next task was to identify and affirm the alter egos and to relate them and the events surrounding them to Martin's real life. Mr. Shaw, cunning as ever, allowed my imagination to ponder the parting all on my own. He left me to a week of guessing and wondering how it would go. I assumed their parting to be dreadful. The lovers who always believed in their permanent bond had to separate under the heavy hand of Lord Tammer. Each morning I rose, I felt their misery. Every time I greeted Dennie with a kiss, I thought of what Sheba lacked in her daily routine once Tanu had left her. And as I would mention Dennie in idle conversation to others I felt fortunate that she was just a phone call away. Tanu and his wife were about to endure a fate I could never bear. On a professional level, I grew sympathetic for Martin Shaw. By this session I had concluded that Tanu was Mr. Shaw's alter ego. Whatever the illustration he drew for me was, I did not know yet. However, he painted himself as the hunter. Sheba had to be a lost love. A lost love I grew to feel for. I wanted to see Mr. Shaw find his Sheba or to become aware that she does not exist. As sure I worried over it for seven long days. To my utter dismay and complete disappointment, Mr. Shaw cut the tale on me when we started our seventh session. He started by saying - with sparkling bravado - "Some twenty-five years later." "Hold it!" I jumped. "What about their separation? How did the lovers endure their forced separation?" I had to know after all the energy and imagination I poured into my version of their travails. "What can I answer?" Shaw shrugged. "I'm certain you have contrived all the sorrow of that terrible parting." A clever storyteller Mr. Shaw showed himself to be indeed. Without a word, he fanned the fires of the bitter parting. He knew my wordless imagination would create the perfect sorrow void of any verbal description which might had cooled the version. This became the first moment I grew fearful of his intent. I had been wrong. Even lies have substance to them. If he was parted from his goal, then he had had to have a life worth mentioning after the separation. I sat, before this strange man, worried and angry. Surely, I lost any control of this patient and his control moved forward ever more certain to obtain its end. But what were his intentions? What was he after? What was he all about? While I grappled with these fears, Mr. Shaw went on seducing me with his tale. Ahutu lay barren by this time. Many huts were but vacant memories of village life that had gone away forever. Those persons remaining in Ahutu were just a reminder of a tribe that hunted no more. Food dwindled. The soil yielded little as most villagers lived only to find their way into Nubia or a grave in their sacred Sahara. Karut, now a grandfather but erect after years of running the village, longed for his burial plot. His wishes for the Ahutu of his youth were just broken dreams. Yet he managed the village as best he could with what remained. He raised his family well and when Meka died, he ordered their children into Nubia. Nothing but hard and lean times befell this simple son of a sheepherder. Responsibility dropped like heavy rain into his life ever since Tanu left leaving Sheba in his care and hunting to his lead. Karut then spent his afternoons at the gate. Hiding from the infernal sun, he would gaze dreamily out toward the sandy ridge. In his mind he would see woman and children rallying around incoming hunters. But only thirst concluded every daydream. On such an afternoon Karut saw the figures of horsemen rising over the sunny ridge like a mirage. He rose suddenly to his feet and grasping his old spear that he now used as a walking stick, Karut paced a few feet forward. Squinting, he regarded the ridge while it became filled with horsemen. Until the entire horizon crowded with their thundering figures. No children ran from Ahutu to witness the glorious sight. Few children had Ahutu. From deep shadows a lone face did peer out then turned away with disinterest. Only Karut awaited the army. This was not the first band of men to pass by since Lord Tammer's legions disrupted Karut's life. In the past years many came too often. They would do no harm. Occasionally a warrior rode off with a young bride or a hungry legion ungratefully made away with some precious livestock. But all in all, the armies only built overnight camp then moved onward by the following dawn. This new formation did not look like a band of nomads or a band of warriors. This group appeared to be full-fledged army crawling across Sahara's breast. Their numbers were uncountable. Out from the ranks of horsemen approached tall armored black warriors. Their swords drawn, they marched fearlessly toward Ahutu. Thousands of these warriors filled the Sahara. Karut looked upon them wondering why so many came to such a desolate place. Why they wore such shimmering armor under a coarse sun. When a loud command halted the mass, Karut expected a warrior to approach him. None did at first and this bothered Karut. He watched the great legions while armed warriors stood only paces before him in silence, acting as if Karut did not exist. Behind the mighty infantry the horsemen also stayed their armored animals. Not a whinny did Karut hear or a hoof testing the sandy ridge. Karut grew unsteady and feared that this army would be a hostile one. He drew out his spearfor whatever it could accomplishand carefully stood with eyes wide. Many other eyes dashed upon Karut because of his movement, but not a muscle flexed. Had any weapon flinched, Karut would have been torn to useless strands of flesh. Not one of the thousands of swords moved from a warrior's chest. Until, with a commotion from over the ridge, orders stirred the army into swift action. Karut crossed himself with the spear and, very frightened, jumped backwards. From directly in front of Karut a wide column of men marched forward then flanked away. Like a deluge they maneuvered until they surrounded Ahutu. Karut knew not what to do or expect as he trembled back into the safety of Ahutu's gate. The remaining villagers now crowded the stone gate. Fear gripped at their hearts while it sprang in loud cries from children clutching their helpless mothers. They watched as the black warriors marched, followed by an onslaught of tall horsemen. Then came brightly clothed men. They followed the horsemen to either side of Ahutu. These men carried wide banners of silk with strange decorations across them. And as they forked out they tossed cypress leaves before the gate. Karut went from fear to utter awe. However the afternoon would end, this display seemed heavenly to him. A sight reserved for the gods. Even the children grew silent while starring at the colorfully dressed menwho were now smiling at the villagers as they covered the white soil with a thick green carpet of sweet smelling cypress. Then came unusual music. Chimes, bells, horns and drums, music no villager could ever imagine hearing. Still as the minstrels moved aside and ended their playing, the faces of Ahutu paled when they peered up the cypress ally left between the great masses of men. For there, not a hundred paces before them stood a god! This god stood tall. He wore golden armor that beamed like a fiery sun. Atop a wide, golden helmet sat an all seeing eye encased in a triangle. At his sides hung great swords that swung to and fro before him as this god walked forward. Unlike his heavenly warriors, this god covered his groin with a pure white cloth. And walked across the cypress in finely made sandals. The god smiled when he finally stood before the gate and its trembling folk. He raised his giant arms as Karut flinched in fear. But only his helmet did he grasp. Removing the highly decorated crown, Karut instantly noticed that this god had olive skin and straight hair unlike all his black subjects. Standing before Karut, the god smiled and paused. Shall I continue?" Mr. Shaw mercilessly tore away my mood. "Our hour has ended." "That never stopped you before! Who cares? I insisted. "This one's on me. Please continue!" He wasn't going to leave me hanging again. I needed to hear this one out. Selfishly because I was entirely involved with the suspense Mr. Shaw created and also, professionally, because his alter ego had seemed to switch from Tanu to Karut. Perhaps it never switched at all, I thought then, but I was too lax to realize it. Mr. Shaw could have been Karut all along. And that would mean such a switch in my own thinking as well as my planned therapy. As Tanu he was a fighter in this world of ours. As Martin Shaw he was a man with few pleasures except for his Shebawho had been separated from him. He did have his story telling talents too. As his doctor I could let him talk it out or make him realize his Sheba wasn't the one for him. But as Karut, the man who climbed the corporate ladder from herder to hunter - I suppose desiring to steal the married Sheba's affectionsI needed to handle him differently. With less the gentle hand, scolding him into accepting his fate. "Please go on," I urged. Karut wondered on how to react. He looked blankly upon the mighty god then over his shoulder at his perplexed tribe. Grasping at the single emotion rummaging within his old heart, he fell to his knees and bowed before the god. "No, Karut! The god roared while he grabbed the old hunter's arm and pulled him erect. Karut, no less puzzled, became more convinced that this certainly was a god. A god who even knew his name! You do not bow to me! The god stepped back. Instead, I bow to you. And so the god did followed immediately by all his subjects. A great clamor filled the air as the entire legion went down before the amazed Karut. "Have I died? Karut stammered. Am I into my next life? Am I to be honored for a good life? What is happening before my eyes?' The god stood back up before him yet the legions remained bowed. Karut, my brother, I have come to honor you. I have return to removed your burden and reclaim my Sheba. With this Karut and all the older villagers grappled with the words they heard. Karut's eyes forecasted all the feelings that swirled within his heart and predicted the one's which would arise. He reached out his hand to touch Tanu's face. Tears ran wildly from eyes that hadn't cried since his youth. Tanu. Was all that escaped his mouth. "Yes, Karut, he answered endearingly. Bringing the herder's son to his breast, he embraced Karut while every voice within and beyond Ahutu cheered. Music sprang up while children advanced toward the hunter who out did the many legends told about him. Women cried and men shook within their skins believing they were witnessing history of a sort. Tanu turned to his army. In their language he called for silence. Instantly they hushed as all ears bent to hear more orders. Tanu called for interpreter then ordered his generals to fulfill any requests from any villager including safe journey to lands beyond the Sahara. Turning back to Karut while interpreter and generals gladly entered Ahutu's gate, Tanu embraced his brother. Sheba? He took Karut to him once more. I return as a king to claim my queen. I have riches beyond her dreams to lay at her feet and yours, my dear brother. Where is my Sheba? Karut did not know how to deal with this brother now a kinga god! He moved from Tanu and pondered a moment while watching Tanu's eyes as they searched through the village gate for his love. He hoped to watch her as she emerged from a shady hut to discover his return. To see how well she aged. Did she move with a matronly swagger in her walk? Gray, silver or blue in her hair? Karut gently touched his arm. You will not find her here, Tanu. She is with Meka. "Then bring me to her immediately, Tanu commanded, with a kingly smile. Karut pursed his lips and nodded away from the gate. They are at the rocks, Tanu. Meaning the boulders not far behind the village where, as youths, the four would gather to play. "Good. Tanu lead the way. No better place for a reunion! As they marched away from the busy gate, Tanu stroll erect as any warrior and Karut crooked with age, Tanu tried to squeeze in all that transpired since he left. He spoke mostly of results and his longing to return to his home. Now, as emperor of all Assyria, Egypt and Tassilli, I return to bring you, my people, into the lands of plenty. To cities of riches wherein you will be serviced as a prince and Sheba will be Queen. Karut spoke not as he walked beside his brother the king. He knew in one brief word the king would fall, losing all he labored endlessly for. At the rocks, Tanu looked feverishly about. Karut sat upon the largest boulder. Where? Tanu frowned. His voice came strong as the voice of an impatient lord. Karut stalled. He glanced hard over the waste that lay from horizon to horizon. You return to Sahara's breast as a king? "Yes, Tanu replied, wanting only an answer to where his queen hid. "Sahara in all her span has no room for a king, Tanu. Karut gazed upon his old friend's puzzled eyes. She is a queen who gives life and returns life into her sandy breast. Here you and I came to know our own destinies. Here we were given burden and greatness. From this soil, he scooped up a handful of sand and laid it into Tanu's royal hands, from this you entered into life. With this land the gods molded you. And to it you must return. The old man like all old men voiced only what he had come to grip in his later years. He peered hard on Tanu. Mighty men and kings and gods cannot grasp the notion of endings, of not having. Such men gain a false sense of immortality after each battle; others die, never themselves. Karut placed his hand over Tanus heart and simply said, We all return to Sarah. Even my great and powerful brother Tanu. The mighty king crumbled. The man simply fell apart. Without a whimper Tanu fell to his knees. Tears poured from his eyes while his entire form gathered under his kingly robes. Karut tried to hold back tears. He bowed his head and could not. But then, suddenly, the old man realized he had misread what was happening on the ground before him. Tanus entire body started to shake and quiver. The man had no intentions or use for crying. He rumbled into the early stages of a volcanic eruption. Karut stepped back. He had never seen anything like this before. The big and powerful man crouched atop Shebas as he grave reached right into the earth. Karut swore the earth shook and he desired to flee. The old man just dropped to the ground. From a prostrate position only his eyes left the ground. The ground was shaking! Tanu reached into the sand down to his shoulders. His arms, his body agitated the earth. In a fit of pain and anger his head broke free of the misery happening on the earth. What he had become in that moment was no man. A lion roared in kingly robes. No one takes her from me! Tanu screamed. No man, no godnothing! Then like a blast from deep within the bowels of the world Tanu tore away in a massive explosion of dust and stone and what remained of Shebas bones. |