1.3 Dreams and Realities
What Is Real?
Joseph woke with first light, but he was not ready to meet the day. He did not move from his blanket, considering the strange events of the last week.
When he at last accepted the inevitability of another day and opened his eyes, he felt as though he had been in this place before.
Teyma’s tent was there, as well as the donkeys loosely tethered to a nearby tree. And Petra was still in his blanket in the place that Joseph knew he would be.
Yes, Joseph had seen all this before, exactly as he saw it now. The first morning after joining Teyma had been exactly like this.
Joseph turned to see where the caravans had been the night before. There was no sign of anyone, no indication that there had been other people encamped for the night in that place.
He turned and saw Teyma coming toward him, exactly as he had done on that first morning.
“Good morning! Welcome to a new day, a day filled with endless opportunity for discovery.”
“And what am I to discover today?” Joseph spoke the words he had spoken in an earlier version of this day.
“Why, we head for Egypt, as I explained yesterday.”
“But yesterday we were with the traders, and the day before that we were in the tent of the gods, and before….”
Teyma held up a hand, interrupting Joseph’s rapid speech with a plea to slow down.
“Wait, wait! What is all of this that you speak? Yesterday, I bought you from your brothers, and then we travelled to this place and encamped for the night. We go to Egypt, as I told you yesterday.
“What is this talk of where we have been and who we have seen? You have slept one night, and have you dreamed all these dreams?”
Joseph started to protest, but an unbelievable realization came over him. Aloud he expressed his self-doubt, ”Were all those days but a dream?”
Joseph’s expression of incredulity caused Teyma to draw near and to place a hand on Joseph’s shoulder.
“They told me you were a dreamer, and I am a believer in dreams. They tell us of life. Will you tell me your dreams?”
Still shaken by the conflict between the world of dreams and the world of reality, Joseph nodded. A moment later he gave a weak, “Yes.”
As if he knew the revelation of the dreams would not be quick, Teyma motioned for Joseph to sit beside him on Joseph’s blanket and to tell him all.
Joseph obediently sat down and proceeded to tell his master of the dream - or were they separate dreams? – of many days of wonder and amazement, stories too amazing to be true. And yet stories that were to Joseph as solid and real as the story of his brothers placing him in the pit and selling him to the wandering merchants.
Joseph began with the drama with his brothers, the terror of the pit and the bewilderment of being sold. On this story, he and Teyma both testified to its reality.
Next was the story of the Valley of the Sons, a narrative that appeared to stretch thin Teyma’s credulity as he asked questions for clarification, interrupting frequently. Joseph realized how this questioning also made him more aware of subtle elements of the dream, the whole fabric weaving a story in which was wrapped the most extraordinary revelation.
Teyma again asked for clarification at the end of the tale, asked to understand the meaning.
Joseph repeated what he remembered from his dream as best he could: “We saw in the flesh what should and does exist. The father of each son is in the one man, just as the mother of each daughter is in the one woman. We saw what each of the sons sees, the love of the one father manifest in these multiple images of the one man.”
“Remarkable, is it not!” exclaimed Teyma. “What a lesson for us all. No matter how many sons or daughters a parent has, they are to be the father or mother of each child, fulfilling the promise made at their conception.”
Joseph nodded, the impact of the experience as real as if he had been there.
“What happened next?” prodded Teyma.
“We had a feast with the family of the Valley of the Sons that night. I spoke with Petra and learned something of his past, of his…,” Joseph searched for a word that would be kind, “limitations.”
"His limitations?” questioned Teyma.
Joseph simply nodded and continued, “And the next day we went to a burial field.”
“Who was buried there?” asked Teyma.
“No, not a ‘who’ but a ‘what,” Joseph replied. “I buried my anger in that field, put it in a deep hole and covered it with the dirt. And then we came back and I cleansed in the river.”
Joseph smiled, feeling again the taste of river water, the taste of life without bitterness.
Teyma smiled. “So you had a good day?”
“Yes,” replied Joseph. “I would say it was the best, but they were all good. And there are more days to come. How will I ever know which was the best?”
He turned to hear Teyma’s answer, but the man just smiled. “You can only live each day and make it the best.”
Joseph nodded and then continued.
“After that, we went to the tent of the gods.” He described the events of the day, the temptation by the beautiful Meera holding the bronze statue of himself as a god, and how he had refused and the whole scene had disappeared.
“What made the tent of the gods to disappear, Joseph?”
“In the middle of my refusal, when I said, ‘No! I will not! It is not about me. It is about God,’ in that moment, the whole scene disappeared, as if it had never been.”
He turned to Teyma. “You were there, but you watched from a distance. You said there was never a tent of the gods, never anyone there. You had watched me walk through the grass, occasionally seeming to talk to people, but you never saw anyone but me.”
“Another amazing dream, Joseph! What did you learn?”
Joseph repeated what had made the scene disappear, “It is not about me. It is about God.” He wondered if there was more to it than speaking words. Yes, there was something more than the mere repetition of words.
He tried to express it in words but found himself failing. “It is more than saying that everything is about God,” but words were not there for him to continue.
He looked at Teyma, struggling to find the words. “It is more than even knowing that it is all about God. Believing that God is there and that He is looking for someone to stand up for him…that is what it is all about.”
“God needs a defender?” Asked Teyma, showing a degree of uncertainty.
“No. He needs a witness.”
Teyma nodded again. “Your dream is teaching you a great deal! What else?”
Joseph himself could hardly believe that there was more, but indeed there was much more.
“We had come a long way on that day, and it took us another day to return to the caravan.
The next day there were traders who were encamped on the road ahead of us. We spent time walking through their exhibits. You talked with some of them, and I heard the dreams of others and helped them to understand them.
“I told them that it was the God of Abraham who gave and now interpreted their dreams. They all knew of God, but they also had drifted into idolatry and had other gods.
“In return for interpreting their dreams, I asked for their idols as payment. They gave them to me along with some bags for carrying them to the river bank. There, on a large outcrop of rock and using the stone idols against one another, we broke them into pieces. The wooden ones we burned.”
“Was that the end of the day?”
Joseph’s tone saddened a bit. “No, later I learned that Petra had traded my mother’s golden ring for four cheap rings that looked like silver. I was furious with him!”
Joseph showed no anger, but returned to the upbeat tone with which he had been speaking. “I forgave him and gave the rings to him as a reminder of his need to obey the commandments of God, and to obey the orders of you, his master. The ring was worth little compared to the feeling of compassion and reunion with him.”
“Was that the end of your dream?”
“I do not know,” laughed Joseph. “Are we really here talking at this moment?”
Teyma hit Joseph fairly hard on his right arm. “Did you feel that?”
“Ow!” exclaimed Joseph. “Yes, I felt it. There will be a bruise coming for sure.”
“Then you know this moment is real. Come, we are headed to Egypt.”
Petra came up as they stood. He extended an open hand to Joseph.
“I believe that you lost this.” In Petra’s hand was Rachel’s gold ring.
“Thank you!” exclaimed Joseph. “I had not realized that it was no longer on my hand.” He slid the piece of gold over his finger until it covered the lighter skin that never saw sunshine.
As Petra withdrew his hand, Joseph noticed two silver rings, one on the first and one on the fourth finger.
“Where did you get your rings?” Joseph asked. To him, they looked exactly like the rings that Petra had received from the trader in the dream that he had just related to Teyma.
Petra smiled. “They are a gift from a friend.”
Joseph noticed that Petra’s other hand had two rings in the same position. He was sure they had not been on Petra’s hand the previous day.
Joseph realized that Petra spoke clearly and succinctly, without hesitation. And he stood tall and moved purposefully. There was no hint of any mental limitation.
Teyma clearly saw Joseph’s focus on the silver rings and changing perception of Petra. He quickly spoke with authority, “Those were unbelievable stories, Joseph! Well, except maybe for the one about interpreting the dreams of the traders. To work now so we can get to Egypt!”
Joseph followed Petra in the preparations for travel, but he knew the tasks, feeling as if he had done this before.
When he saw Talia, she said she had something for him. She went into her tent and emerged with a cloak.
“Teyma said that you had a coat of many colors, but that it was taken from you. This one does not have so many, but it does have two colors.”
She held it up and there was a yellow poppy centered in the fabric. She reversed the coat and there was a red daffodil in the corresponding spot on the other side.
“Try it on and see how it fits.”
Joseph was stunned by the flowers, the same as in his dream. Was this some strange coincidence? And how did she make this so quickly?
He put his lifted arms through the open sides and let the fabric settle over his frame as she placed it over his head.
“Yes, that will do nicely. I had been preparing this for Petra, but he still has an old one and you have none. I will make him another.”
Smiling, she returned to where her daughter was completing the packing of the few belongings in the tent.
Joseph was left in an even more perplexed state.
The vividness of his dream again came before him, but he also was aware of the very real darkening bruise on his arm. And as in his dreams, he struggled to reconcile opposing realities again.
The Edge of the Future
The ferryman’s boat was near the water’s edge, ropes tying it to poles in the ground, perhaps the stumps of trees. Planks for boarding leaned against the nearest tree.
The man and his family lived within sight of the makeshift dock, but Teyma’s caravan was already waiting for him when the ferryman arrived.
The man recognized Teyma from afar and picked up his pace. They embraced like long lost brothers, both talking excitedly.
After greeting each of the familiar members of the caravan, Teyma introduced Joseph to Fayed.
Stories were shared and the dawn eased into mid-morning before discussions began for the trip to Memphis.
This was when Teyma revealed a large package he had brought that morning and set aside for this moment. He extended the gift to his friend. Joseph recognized it as having been given to Teyma by the second ferryman.
Fayed accepted the package with the joy of a child accepting a gift and eagerly unwrapped the rough cloth covering.
From the bundle emerged a fishing cast net, the size appropriate for an individual to cast out from the shore or from a boat. Part of the edge was weighted with hardened clay bound to the netting, the opposite edge having pieces of wood so that it would float.
Fayed was speechless. Nets were rare among his class of river men, requiring great time in selecting the individual fibers, twisting them into strong strands, and then tying to form the net with special knots, again for strength and durability. Such an object would be handed down for generations before finally becoming worn with age.
Such a gift more than covered the travel to Memphis and on to Fayum. Fayed almost wept with his thanks to Teyma. Although a ferryman by trade, Fayed must supplement this work for the days when he had no passengers.
Although he had the old net from his father, still working well, only one man could fish at a time. Now a son could fish with him, or the two sons rather than him! Such a gift was a source of added food for his family, another means of surviving the difficult challenges of life in an uncertain world.
Teyma graciously accepted the thanks, and gave his own thanks for the gift of sailing on the boat to Memphis, and returning a couple of days later.
Loading began, the heavy planks being set in place between land and boat, a very gentle upward slope. The donkeys were the main problem, showing their uncertainty on the wooden pieces that bent under their weight not far above the water line.
Petra coaxed the lead donkey, and then asked Kedar and Joseph to do the same with the other two donkeys. The other two followed obediently in the path of their leader with some encouragement from their human masters.
Joseph took an opportunity when they were apart from the others to ask Teyma about the net, how he had acquired it so easily.
Teyma laughed. “Acquiring the net is a long story, but I loaned it to my friend at the second crossing two years ago. Much too heavy to carry without a purpose, I told him there would come a day when I required it back from him. He must catch all the fish with it that he was able, and trade well for them, so that he might have enough to trade for his own net.”
Teyma nodded. “He did well and has his own net, so he was happy to return what he had borrowed and put to good use.”
Joseph could not help but smile at this man who never ceased to be a source of amazement and inspiration. His was a lifetime interwoven with all whom he encountered, only occasionally turning away from a man and knocking the dust from his sandals, as at the first crossing.
Fayed and his two grown sons carefully arranged their cargo and passengers in the boat, pushing off from shore about noon.
A single mast just behind the midsection held a large square sail. The prevailing north wind was a blessing, allowing boats to go upstream without inordinate rowing or the use of poles.
There was little in the way of rigging, no means to adjust the angle of the sail, but the north wind was dependable and any adjustment could be made with the rudder or an oar.
One of Fayed’s sons took position in the bow. He held a long pole with which he regularly checked the depth. One of the problems with the slow moving river and its flood of water and silt was submerged mudbanks, shifting shoals on which a boat could easily become stranded or overturned. These barely submerged islands were a problem any time of year.
As the sail was put up, the wind struck with enough force for the craft to give a lurch. Although sitting low, the bow began cutting a path through the water, the stern leaving a light wake behind. They settled into the rhythm of the river, the older son at the rudder to make any necessary adjustments.
Fayed sat next to Petra on some of the baggage while Petra, Kedar, and Joseph sat opposite. The two men began talking more, apparently resuming one particular line of conversation not completed when they had visited earlier, standing apart from the others. Joseph sensed that the topic had been saved for just this setting.
Teyma was speaking. “You say that your eldest daughter is no longer with you?”
Fayed’s expression first grew sad, but the sadness quickly gave way to anger.
“There was a boy from the east three years ago, not much older than your new boy there,” as he gestured toward Joseph.
“He came seeking passage with a donkey and a few trinkets. New at the profession of traveling merchant, he could not afford the price, so I let him do some work for me for ten days. During that time, he snuck behind my back and seduced my daughter.
“When it came time for me to carry him upriver, he asked to take her with him as his wife. Of course, I objected! He was not of our people, a foreigner and a wanderer without roots, with no means of support.”
Fayed seemed to forget that he was describing his friend’s early years as a trader, but Teyma took no offense.
“I said I would take him to his destination, but not with her. The next morning, he was gone and she was gone, also, sneaking out into the dark and running off with him.
“My daughter sent word from a fisherman not far away that she wanted my blessing, but how could I give that blessing when they had destroyed the family’s honor! What other choice did I have but to deny her and send her to her future without a blessing!
“If they ever return, can it be anything but his death or my death! And she would die in her dishonor, as well.”
Although his last words fell into a softness tempered by the pain of grief, his earlier words were not questions. No, they were hard statements spoken in anger. No response other than agreement was acceptable.
In spite of some problems with his new second language, Joseph understood the situation completely. Ali’s dream told to Joseph on the day among the other caravans had been this story, and before him was playing Ali’s first dream. Would the second dream be confirmed, as well?
Joseph again realized the contradiction between the world of dreams and the reality of the moment. His own dreams of that lost week seemed real again. He looked at Teyma.
Teyma’s face, so often inscrutable, appeared to have a faint smile, but Joseph was sure the man would deny the truth that had been confirmed once again. The reality of Joseph’s dream continued to solidify in spite of its wildly irrational nature.
“And so she can never return.” Teyma said this as a statement, not as a question. “You will never know her children, your grandchildren, and your legacy. You choose to cut off what you cannot control.”
The moment was interrupted as Fayed’s son from the front called a sharp warning that his sounding stick showed they were approaching a mud bank. The other son adjusted course with the tiller and Fayed leaped up to help. Together they steered the boat clear.
They saw the faint outline of the mud bank’s peak just beneath the water’s surface some feet away. Apparently they were far enough to escape its unseen flanks stretching toward them beneath the murky water.
The crisis now in the past, Fayed returned to where Teyma and Joseph remained seated.
“What is done is done, and it cannot be undone.”
“But it can be forgiven, Fayed. And that is for your sake. That is what forgiveness is. It is unchaining you from a past you cannot change.”
There was clearly a struggle within Fayed, but at last he said, “Perhaps that is so. My heart feels it, but my mind cannot.”
Teyma spread his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “If we followed only our mind and not the heart, what is the value of living?”
Fayed smiled. “You are opening a door for her back to me.” He shook his head. “But I do not know if she will ever attempt to reach that door again.”
“Perhaps if she knew the door was waiting for her, she would return. Would she be safe if she came back, and would her husband be safe, as well?”
Fayed stood as if turned to stone, unable to move forward or backward, imprisoned in a moment of indecision.
The wind bore the boat steadily upriver, no roughness or difficult labor. Scenery appeared to pass by a stationary boat on a sea of rippled glass, the afternoon sun reflecting off diamonds in the path ahead, and Fayed as fixed to the boat as the boat to the river.
With a tear falling from one eye, he asked, “But who will tell them?”
“If you send out your love to overtake your anger, they will come.”
More tears falling, Fayed walked quickly to the front of the boat, leaning out over the bow while his son used the sounding pole beside him.
Joseph commented, “Abida’s second dream.”
He looked at Teyma, the man seeming to avoid his gaze.
“How?” he asked. “How does this happen, Teyma?”
“You always look for an answer that makes sense to you. Life is not that easy. If you or I understood fully how the world works, the thing would be too simple to exist as it does.”
Joseph shook his head, but his confusion turned into a smile. He looked at the flower on the front of his coat. Would life go back to normal after Teyma, or would there be yellow poppies and red daffodils?
To say the rest of the trip was uneventful would be misleading, but it is accurate that there is little more that happened on the river that has a bearing on the big picture of Joseph’s story.
Of most significance, Joseph was at peace with his uncertain future.
He spent most of his time honing his skills in the Egyptian language, and practicing Petra’s language with animals. By the end of the voyage, Joseph would swear that the donkeys understood him and that he understood them as well as he understood Fayed – not always, but he got the gist of their words.
And he did dream again, a strange dream: his half-brothers were waiting for him in Fayum.
The boat arrived at Memphis about the middle of their fifth day – an afternoon, three full days, and a morning on the river. Fayed was pleased with that accomplishment with the load that the boat carried.
Continue reading
What Is Real?
Joseph woke with first light, but he was not ready to meet the day. He did not move from his blanket, considering the strange events of the last week.
When he at last accepted the inevitability of another day and opened his eyes, he felt as though he had been in this place before.
Teyma’s tent was there, as well as the donkeys loosely tethered to a nearby tree. And Petra was still in his blanket in the place that Joseph knew he would be.
Yes, Joseph had seen all this before, exactly as he saw it now. The first morning after joining Teyma had been exactly like this.
Joseph turned to see where the caravans had been the night before. There was no sign of anyone, no indication that there had been other people encamped for the night in that place.
He turned and saw Teyma coming toward him, exactly as he had done on that first morning.
“Good morning! Welcome to a new day, a day filled with endless opportunity for discovery.”
“And what am I to discover today?” Joseph spoke the words he had spoken in an earlier version of this day.
“Why, we head for Egypt, as I explained yesterday.”
“But yesterday we were with the traders, and the day before that we were in the tent of the gods, and before….”
Teyma held up a hand, interrupting Joseph’s rapid speech with a plea to slow down.
“Wait, wait! What is all of this that you speak? Yesterday, I bought you from your brothers, and then we travelled to this place and encamped for the night. We go to Egypt, as I told you yesterday.
“What is this talk of where we have been and who we have seen? You have slept one night, and have you dreamed all these dreams?”
Joseph started to protest, but an unbelievable realization came over him. Aloud he expressed his self-doubt, ”Were all those days but a dream?”
Joseph’s expression of incredulity caused Teyma to draw near and to place a hand on Joseph’s shoulder.
“They told me you were a dreamer, and I am a believer in dreams. They tell us of life. Will you tell me your dreams?”
Still shaken by the conflict between the world of dreams and the world of reality, Joseph nodded. A moment later he gave a weak, “Yes.”
As if he knew the revelation of the dreams would not be quick, Teyma motioned for Joseph to sit beside him on Joseph’s blanket and to tell him all.
Joseph obediently sat down and proceeded to tell his master of the dream - or were they separate dreams? – of many days of wonder and amazement, stories too amazing to be true. And yet stories that were to Joseph as solid and real as the story of his brothers placing him in the pit and selling him to the wandering merchants.
Joseph began with the drama with his brothers, the terror of the pit and the bewilderment of being sold. On this story, he and Teyma both testified to its reality.
Next was the story of the Valley of the Sons, a narrative that appeared to stretch thin Teyma’s credulity as he asked questions for clarification, interrupting frequently. Joseph realized how this questioning also made him more aware of subtle elements of the dream, the whole fabric weaving a story in which was wrapped the most extraordinary revelation.
Teyma again asked for clarification at the end of the tale, asked to understand the meaning.
Joseph repeated what he remembered from his dream as best he could: “We saw in the flesh what should and does exist. The father of each son is in the one man, just as the mother of each daughter is in the one woman. We saw what each of the sons sees, the love of the one father manifest in these multiple images of the one man.”
“Remarkable, is it not!” exclaimed Teyma. “What a lesson for us all. No matter how many sons or daughters a parent has, they are to be the father or mother of each child, fulfilling the promise made at their conception.”
Joseph nodded, the impact of the experience as real as if he had been there.
“What happened next?” prodded Teyma.
“We had a feast with the family of the Valley of the Sons that night. I spoke with Petra and learned something of his past, of his…,” Joseph searched for a word that would be kind, “limitations.”
"His limitations?” questioned Teyma.
Joseph simply nodded and continued, “And the next day we went to a burial field.”
“Who was buried there?” asked Teyma.
“No, not a ‘who’ but a ‘what,” Joseph replied. “I buried my anger in that field, put it in a deep hole and covered it with the dirt. And then we came back and I cleansed in the river.”
Joseph smiled, feeling again the taste of river water, the taste of life without bitterness.
Teyma smiled. “So you had a good day?”
“Yes,” replied Joseph. “I would say it was the best, but they were all good. And there are more days to come. How will I ever know which was the best?”
He turned to hear Teyma’s answer, but the man just smiled. “You can only live each day and make it the best.”
Joseph nodded and then continued.
“After that, we went to the tent of the gods.” He described the events of the day, the temptation by the beautiful Meera holding the bronze statue of himself as a god, and how he had refused and the whole scene had disappeared.
“What made the tent of the gods to disappear, Joseph?”
“In the middle of my refusal, when I said, ‘No! I will not! It is not about me. It is about God,’ in that moment, the whole scene disappeared, as if it had never been.”
He turned to Teyma. “You were there, but you watched from a distance. You said there was never a tent of the gods, never anyone there. You had watched me walk through the grass, occasionally seeming to talk to people, but you never saw anyone but me.”
“Another amazing dream, Joseph! What did you learn?”
Joseph repeated what had made the scene disappear, “It is not about me. It is about God.” He wondered if there was more to it than speaking words. Yes, there was something more than the mere repetition of words.
He tried to express it in words but found himself failing. “It is more than saying that everything is about God,” but words were not there for him to continue.
He looked at Teyma, struggling to find the words. “It is more than even knowing that it is all about God. Believing that God is there and that He is looking for someone to stand up for him…that is what it is all about.”
“God needs a defender?” Asked Teyma, showing a degree of uncertainty.
“No. He needs a witness.”
Teyma nodded again. “Your dream is teaching you a great deal! What else?”
Joseph himself could hardly believe that there was more, but indeed there was much more.
“We had come a long way on that day, and it took us another day to return to the caravan.
The next day there were traders who were encamped on the road ahead of us. We spent time walking through their exhibits. You talked with some of them, and I heard the dreams of others and helped them to understand them.
“I told them that it was the God of Abraham who gave and now interpreted their dreams. They all knew of God, but they also had drifted into idolatry and had other gods.
“In return for interpreting their dreams, I asked for their idols as payment. They gave them to me along with some bags for carrying them to the river bank. There, on a large outcrop of rock and using the stone idols against one another, we broke them into pieces. The wooden ones we burned.”
“Was that the end of the day?”
Joseph’s tone saddened a bit. “No, later I learned that Petra had traded my mother’s golden ring for four cheap rings that looked like silver. I was furious with him!”
Joseph showed no anger, but returned to the upbeat tone with which he had been speaking. “I forgave him and gave the rings to him as a reminder of his need to obey the commandments of God, and to obey the orders of you, his master. The ring was worth little compared to the feeling of compassion and reunion with him.”
“Was that the end of your dream?”
“I do not know,” laughed Joseph. “Are we really here talking at this moment?”
Teyma hit Joseph fairly hard on his right arm. “Did you feel that?”
“Ow!” exclaimed Joseph. “Yes, I felt it. There will be a bruise coming for sure.”
“Then you know this moment is real. Come, we are headed to Egypt.”
Petra came up as they stood. He extended an open hand to Joseph.
“I believe that you lost this.” In Petra’s hand was Rachel’s gold ring.
“Thank you!” exclaimed Joseph. “I had not realized that it was no longer on my hand.” He slid the piece of gold over his finger until it covered the lighter skin that never saw sunshine.
As Petra withdrew his hand, Joseph noticed two silver rings, one on the first and one on the fourth finger.
“Where did you get your rings?” Joseph asked. To him, they looked exactly like the rings that Petra had received from the trader in the dream that he had just related to Teyma.
Petra smiled. “They are a gift from a friend.”
Joseph noticed that Petra’s other hand had two rings in the same position. He was sure they had not been on Petra’s hand the previous day.
Joseph realized that Petra spoke clearly and succinctly, without hesitation. And he stood tall and moved purposefully. There was no hint of any mental limitation.
Teyma clearly saw Joseph’s focus on the silver rings and changing perception of Petra. He quickly spoke with authority, “Those were unbelievable stories, Joseph! Well, except maybe for the one about interpreting the dreams of the traders. To work now so we can get to Egypt!”
Joseph followed Petra in the preparations for travel, but he knew the tasks, feeling as if he had done this before.
When he saw Talia, she said she had something for him. She went into her tent and emerged with a cloak.
“Teyma said that you had a coat of many colors, but that it was taken from you. This one does not have so many, but it does have two colors.”
She held it up and there was a yellow poppy centered in the fabric. She reversed the coat and there was a red daffodil in the corresponding spot on the other side.
“Try it on and see how it fits.”
Joseph was stunned by the flowers, the same as in his dream. Was this some strange coincidence? And how did she make this so quickly?
He put his lifted arms through the open sides and let the fabric settle over his frame as she placed it over his head.
“Yes, that will do nicely. I had been preparing this for Petra, but he still has an old one and you have none. I will make him another.”
Smiling, she returned to where her daughter was completing the packing of the few belongings in the tent.
Joseph was left in an even more perplexed state.
The vividness of his dream again came before him, but he also was aware of the very real darkening bruise on his arm. And as in his dreams, he struggled to reconcile opposing realities again.
The Edge of the Future
The ferryman’s boat was near the water’s edge, ropes tying it to poles in the ground, perhaps the stumps of trees. Planks for boarding leaned against the nearest tree.
The man and his family lived within sight of the makeshift dock, but Teyma’s caravan was already waiting for him when the ferryman arrived.
The man recognized Teyma from afar and picked up his pace. They embraced like long lost brothers, both talking excitedly.
After greeting each of the familiar members of the caravan, Teyma introduced Joseph to Fayed.
Stories were shared and the dawn eased into mid-morning before discussions began for the trip to Memphis.
This was when Teyma revealed a large package he had brought that morning and set aside for this moment. He extended the gift to his friend. Joseph recognized it as having been given to Teyma by the second ferryman.
Fayed accepted the package with the joy of a child accepting a gift and eagerly unwrapped the rough cloth covering.
From the bundle emerged a fishing cast net, the size appropriate for an individual to cast out from the shore or from a boat. Part of the edge was weighted with hardened clay bound to the netting, the opposite edge having pieces of wood so that it would float.
Fayed was speechless. Nets were rare among his class of river men, requiring great time in selecting the individual fibers, twisting them into strong strands, and then tying to form the net with special knots, again for strength and durability. Such an object would be handed down for generations before finally becoming worn with age.
Such a gift more than covered the travel to Memphis and on to Fayum. Fayed almost wept with his thanks to Teyma. Although a ferryman by trade, Fayed must supplement this work for the days when he had no passengers.
Although he had the old net from his father, still working well, only one man could fish at a time. Now a son could fish with him, or the two sons rather than him! Such a gift was a source of added food for his family, another means of surviving the difficult challenges of life in an uncertain world.
Teyma graciously accepted the thanks, and gave his own thanks for the gift of sailing on the boat to Memphis, and returning a couple of days later.
Loading began, the heavy planks being set in place between land and boat, a very gentle upward slope. The donkeys were the main problem, showing their uncertainty on the wooden pieces that bent under their weight not far above the water line.
Petra coaxed the lead donkey, and then asked Kedar and Joseph to do the same with the other two donkeys. The other two followed obediently in the path of their leader with some encouragement from their human masters.
Joseph took an opportunity when they were apart from the others to ask Teyma about the net, how he had acquired it so easily.
Teyma laughed. “Acquiring the net is a long story, but I loaned it to my friend at the second crossing two years ago. Much too heavy to carry without a purpose, I told him there would come a day when I required it back from him. He must catch all the fish with it that he was able, and trade well for them, so that he might have enough to trade for his own net.”
Teyma nodded. “He did well and has his own net, so he was happy to return what he had borrowed and put to good use.”
Joseph could not help but smile at this man who never ceased to be a source of amazement and inspiration. His was a lifetime interwoven with all whom he encountered, only occasionally turning away from a man and knocking the dust from his sandals, as at the first crossing.
Fayed and his two grown sons carefully arranged their cargo and passengers in the boat, pushing off from shore about noon.
A single mast just behind the midsection held a large square sail. The prevailing north wind was a blessing, allowing boats to go upstream without inordinate rowing or the use of poles.
There was little in the way of rigging, no means to adjust the angle of the sail, but the north wind was dependable and any adjustment could be made with the rudder or an oar.
One of Fayed’s sons took position in the bow. He held a long pole with which he regularly checked the depth. One of the problems with the slow moving river and its flood of water and silt was submerged mudbanks, shifting shoals on which a boat could easily become stranded or overturned. These barely submerged islands were a problem any time of year.
As the sail was put up, the wind struck with enough force for the craft to give a lurch. Although sitting low, the bow began cutting a path through the water, the stern leaving a light wake behind. They settled into the rhythm of the river, the older son at the rudder to make any necessary adjustments.
Fayed sat next to Petra on some of the baggage while Petra, Kedar, and Joseph sat opposite. The two men began talking more, apparently resuming one particular line of conversation not completed when they had visited earlier, standing apart from the others. Joseph sensed that the topic had been saved for just this setting.
Teyma was speaking. “You say that your eldest daughter is no longer with you?”
Fayed’s expression first grew sad, but the sadness quickly gave way to anger.
“There was a boy from the east three years ago, not much older than your new boy there,” as he gestured toward Joseph.
“He came seeking passage with a donkey and a few trinkets. New at the profession of traveling merchant, he could not afford the price, so I let him do some work for me for ten days. During that time, he snuck behind my back and seduced my daughter.
“When it came time for me to carry him upriver, he asked to take her with him as his wife. Of course, I objected! He was not of our people, a foreigner and a wanderer without roots, with no means of support.”
Fayed seemed to forget that he was describing his friend’s early years as a trader, but Teyma took no offense.
“I said I would take him to his destination, but not with her. The next morning, he was gone and she was gone, also, sneaking out into the dark and running off with him.
“My daughter sent word from a fisherman not far away that she wanted my blessing, but how could I give that blessing when they had destroyed the family’s honor! What other choice did I have but to deny her and send her to her future without a blessing!
“If they ever return, can it be anything but his death or my death! And she would die in her dishonor, as well.”
Although his last words fell into a softness tempered by the pain of grief, his earlier words were not questions. No, they were hard statements spoken in anger. No response other than agreement was acceptable.
In spite of some problems with his new second language, Joseph understood the situation completely. Ali’s dream told to Joseph on the day among the other caravans had been this story, and before him was playing Ali’s first dream. Would the second dream be confirmed, as well?
Joseph again realized the contradiction between the world of dreams and the reality of the moment. His own dreams of that lost week seemed real again. He looked at Teyma.
Teyma’s face, so often inscrutable, appeared to have a faint smile, but Joseph was sure the man would deny the truth that had been confirmed once again. The reality of Joseph’s dream continued to solidify in spite of its wildly irrational nature.
“And so she can never return.” Teyma said this as a statement, not as a question. “You will never know her children, your grandchildren, and your legacy. You choose to cut off what you cannot control.”
The moment was interrupted as Fayed’s son from the front called a sharp warning that his sounding stick showed they were approaching a mud bank. The other son adjusted course with the tiller and Fayed leaped up to help. Together they steered the boat clear.
They saw the faint outline of the mud bank’s peak just beneath the water’s surface some feet away. Apparently they were far enough to escape its unseen flanks stretching toward them beneath the murky water.
The crisis now in the past, Fayed returned to where Teyma and Joseph remained seated.
“What is done is done, and it cannot be undone.”
“But it can be forgiven, Fayed. And that is for your sake. That is what forgiveness is. It is unchaining you from a past you cannot change.”
There was clearly a struggle within Fayed, but at last he said, “Perhaps that is so. My heart feels it, but my mind cannot.”
Teyma spread his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “If we followed only our mind and not the heart, what is the value of living?”
Fayed smiled. “You are opening a door for her back to me.” He shook his head. “But I do not know if she will ever attempt to reach that door again.”
“Perhaps if she knew the door was waiting for her, she would return. Would she be safe if she came back, and would her husband be safe, as well?”
Fayed stood as if turned to stone, unable to move forward or backward, imprisoned in a moment of indecision.
The wind bore the boat steadily upriver, no roughness or difficult labor. Scenery appeared to pass by a stationary boat on a sea of rippled glass, the afternoon sun reflecting off diamonds in the path ahead, and Fayed as fixed to the boat as the boat to the river.
With a tear falling from one eye, he asked, “But who will tell them?”
“If you send out your love to overtake your anger, they will come.”
More tears falling, Fayed walked quickly to the front of the boat, leaning out over the bow while his son used the sounding pole beside him.
Joseph commented, “Abida’s second dream.”
He looked at Teyma, the man seeming to avoid his gaze.
“How?” he asked. “How does this happen, Teyma?”
“You always look for an answer that makes sense to you. Life is not that easy. If you or I understood fully how the world works, the thing would be too simple to exist as it does.”
Joseph shook his head, but his confusion turned into a smile. He looked at the flower on the front of his coat. Would life go back to normal after Teyma, or would there be yellow poppies and red daffodils?
To say the rest of the trip was uneventful would be misleading, but it is accurate that there is little more that happened on the river that has a bearing on the big picture of Joseph’s story.
Of most significance, Joseph was at peace with his uncertain future.
He spent most of his time honing his skills in the Egyptian language, and practicing Petra’s language with animals. By the end of the voyage, Joseph would swear that the donkeys understood him and that he understood them as well as he understood Fayed – not always, but he got the gist of their words.
And he did dream again, a strange dream: his half-brothers were waiting for him in Fayum.
The boat arrived at Memphis about the middle of their fifth day – an afternoon, three full days, and a morning on the river. Fayed was pleased with that accomplishment with the load that the boat carried.
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