Mona (Part One)

They say that for every person there is one mate in the world that not only fulfills their desire, but gives them the a happiness and love that fuses together their two separate souls into one soul for all eternity. Eve and I have this and the ‘medicine’ enhances it a billion fold.  Each day that I spend with her is better than the one before and the one before that . . .

Is this true love?  I suppose – although there were times when we could strangle each other until our heads fell off, but we never stopped loving each other.  And as the decades rolled by the love making was as if it were the first time, filled with excitement and such anticipation that we would explode in ecstasy several times before forcing ourselves to stop. It’s like that or better every time we are together.

Eve understood what Jago would be missing.  She thought about him daily for the next 30 years, contemplating how we could have done things differently with him – maybe we could have been more attentive and nurturing.  Her soul was tormented with guilt that grew as the years pushed forward.

We traveled to Rome and looked for Jago there.  This was one of the largest cities we would travel to during those harsh times, but we loved the excitement and sounds that surrounded us.  The textures and smells of that era are like no other you could experience or write about unless you were there.  One moment you would smell a horse, then smoke from torches or campfires, and then maybe the horrid body odors of people that haven’t bathed for several months.  This all balanced out with the aroma of the freshly cooked food and natural perfumes that saved our senses from the decaying stench of the streets. How could I forget the smell and taste of the freshly cooked fish or chicken in its natural flavor, untouched by the chemicals and our modern processes? Most people here were friendly in the market areas, but many were leery of strangers like us.  No matter where we went, we seemed just a little different – hair style, clothing, and accent -- somehow people knew we weren’t like them.

We stayed in Rome for three months and then headed south to return to Sicily.  We were passing through Ostia Antica when we heard a voice call out to us from one of the merchant’s tents in the village square.

“Joseph! Eve!” the voice cried. “Joseph --- wait!”

From about 12 tents away Jago came running out with a huge smile and his arms extended wide enough to hug us both.  His demeanor and his tone were much different than when we last saw him.

“Jago”, Eve said with surprise and uncertainty in her voice, “is that you. It can’t be -- you look wonderful and happy.”

“I am happy. I have come to know myself and what I am.” Jago pounded his chest twice to show us he was sound and fit. “Let me take you to my home for food and comfort, like you provided for me so many years ago.”

He led us to a small house not too far from the village market.  We entered and found two rooms – they were spacious and colorful.  Jago sat us down and brought us bread, meat and his best wine.  He told us the story of how he wandered for months in confusion and despair, until he decided to try to end the pain inside by burning himself to ashes. He built a large  pyre, set it ablaze and stabbed himself through the heart.  He awoke days later reconstructed and intact from the ashes. This experience convinced him that he must look for a way to please the gods and thank them for the gift Eve and I gave to him. It brought him to Rome then to Ostia Antica where he now sells the fur and meat from the animals he traps. He helps the poor and the sick however he can and these people have grown to love him and depend on him.  After his stories, we told him that we were thankful that we had found him and have been looking for him for many years with the hope that we could bring him peace and comfort to pay for what we had done to him.  Eve told him that it looks like he found his own peace and comfort.

“I am happy to be as I am.  The gift you have given me has allowed me to help many people and to soothe those that would have never had any joy in their life.”

Our conversation was interrupted by several people entering the room. They were carrying a young woman on a chair to join us.  Eve and I felt sorry for her.  She was lame with Palsy and could not walk without assistance.   Her speech was slurred and drool dripped from the corner of her mouth when she spoke.  Her hair was wild and black like Jago’s and she had a scar running down the side of her head that looked like it was left to heal on its own.  She needed assistance when she would relieve herself and we were told later that she could barely dress herself.

Jago raised a hand, “Joseph and Eve, my two most beloved friends, I would like you to meet Monalora, the woman I love and intend to marry.”

Eve and I looked at each other and back at Jago and Monalora.  I immediately saw her expression change and knew what she was thinking.

“Eve . . . no!” I said sternly.

(CONTINUED . . . .)

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