Ruth: Reimagined

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Her eyes met with Dalia’s surprised ones, her heart hammering against her chest as she  sat beside her on the grass, of one of the small hills of Tikvah. The woman didn't say anything, continuing to stare up at the sky, and in the silence, Ruth searched her heart.

Glancing at Dalia from time to time, different liftetimes flashed before her eyes, a different Dalia— until, the flickering, almost tormenting images stopped, and the Dalia that was before her, with the warm brown eyes, the wild honey blonde hair, remained. And she was gorgeous.

“On that hill,” Ruth finally spoke, and Dalia's gaze shifted towards her, focused. “As you danced, it stirred up something in me, reminded me of memories that happened years ago. Of the things I used to do. What was once my only hope is now, my shame and regret.”

A silence settled.

Dalia held Ruth's every reaction, every breath, observant, searching her mind for understanding. When she saw Ruth's throat bob slightly and her dark eyes glittering with tears, it tugged at her soul.

“You're,” Ruth held her breath, strengthening her voice, and she faced Dalia, holding her gaze. “You're a beautiful dancer, and the reason for which you dance is awe-filling.”

Dalia stared at Ruth, and she, too, with no reason as to why, felt deeply emotional. She blinked back the tears, and slowly, a smile broke forth on her face. “Do you dance?”

“I do,” Ruth said, smiling. Then, with laughter bubbling out of her, she said: It's been a while, years even. Wow,” her throat tightened, her chest constricted, the shock melting through her bones. “ It's been years.”

As the silence settled, she experienced a new kind of grief.

~🍁~

“Ruth!”

The sun's rays were melting into the horizon when he called out her name. Turning, her basket filled with the barley she had gleaned, almost tipped over.

He held the leash of his brown sturdy camel, with a sandy brown coat of fur, tugging it along. A warm smile adorned his face.  And then he was standing before her, the camel panting softly.

Slowly, she bowed, a smile curving up her lips. “Sir Boaz.”

“Lady Ruth,” he held her eyes, his green, a deep well of colors she'd never seen before. “Let me walk with you.”

She kept quiet for a moment. Then, when she realized he was waiting for her answer,  gave him a curt nod. Turning around, her heart thudded, two or three beats faster.

“Wait.”

She turned around again.

“Come up here,” he pat the camel's back.

As she walked up to the camel, Boaz lifted Ruth up, the strength and gentleness in his arms, evident. She sat on the camel’s back, immediately running her fingers through its fur, as it grunted softly.

“He likes you,” Boaz remarked, shuffling the head of his camel.

“What's his name?”

“Gideon.”

Boaz continued leading his camel on with the leash. Looking up at Ruth, the smile on his face remained.

Again, she noted he was content to bask in the silence to simply just be with her. And then, as if sensing her thoughts, he asked her how her day was, he payed attention to her, asked her to delve into the details and she found herself  speaking longer, and more freely than she expected.