PYRAMIDS OF SAND

PYRAMIDS OF SAND 

 

The pain of expelling the sea from my lungs gives me the confidence that I am alive. I spew and hake more water out of my aching chest, replacing it with gulps of air. I am Amsu Nabil and I live. 

I force my eyes open against the sting of the salt water but, it takes several hard blinks to get them to focus. With blurry sight I try to make out the world around me; the dark waters before me, the rocky banks to each side of me and the blue sky dotted with clouds above. But from what I can observe, I was alone. 

An explosion of sound erupts somewhere above me like the crash of thunder from a coming storm. There it was again, just beyond the crash of the waves and the flurry of the wind. The cry of sea-gulls was my first thought but, after another round of rumbling hit I knew it was the roar of a voice, Pharaoh's voice. 

The king of Egypt dressed in his finest armor the sun glistens off his helmet stands in a gold chariot on a ridge a stone throw above where I lay, shaking his fist at the sky and cursing the Hebrew people and their God. He is alone like me. His mighty army swallowed by the sea. Soldiers, horses and chariots swiped away like a line of ants when I relieve myself after too much wine. Nothing is here to mark their graves or even show their presence except my battered and bruised body. What a poor marker for so many brave men.  

Pharaoh spew more venomous curses at their leader, the mage, Moses, words so poisonous and vile that I see spit fly from his mouth like a cobra and drop to the beach. 

I want to call out to my king and let him know that his loyal servant, Amsu Nabil, lives, but the memories of stories told in whispers around campsite and guard post of his cruelty towards those soldiers who did not perform to his high expectations stills my mouth. 

Wrenching the horse's heads with his reins the Pharaoh wheels his chariot around and heads away, out of my line of sight. I still hear his curses, they linger long after he is gone until there is only the silence of the sea.  

I pull myself up off the rocks with much difficulty. Blood flows from numerous bruises, cuts and gashes but there seems to be nothing broken, of course this was easy to tell since my infantry garments were torn from my body when I became caught in the rushing waves. I stand naked and bloody on the shore of the Red-sea. 

Without much thought I turn and climb the limestone cliffs to the ridge where the Pharaoh had sat in his golden chariot. Looking out over the sea, my head finally beginning to clear, I give a heavy sigh for my brother, Ibin, a captain in the army. He now lies beneath the waves along with our two cousins. They all journey now to meet Osiris, the god of the dead. Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks for them. A pain deeper than my physical wounds permeates my whole being. As a solider to save face I should fling myself off this ridge to the rocks below, but I can't. I am alive. Why? Thoth, the god of wisdom, must have a reason. But, where were he and the other Egyptian gods when this Hebrew God rained plague after plague on us? Why were our mighty gods silent? 

A delicate melody awakens me from thoughts of our deity's, it jaunting tune slides along on the sea breeze. My eyes search around me but then it doesn't take long to realize that the chorus I hear is coming from the opposite shore, the Hebrew encampment. It is the sound of rejoicing and singing praises to their God for delivering them from the Pharaoh's army.  

Rage boils up from the depth of my soul. I begin to fling rocks and sand furiously at the Hebrews as if I could hit them from this distance. Exhaustion finally cools my tantrum and I fall to my knees. 

"Aaaahh!!!!" I shout at the heavens. "My the desert consume your wretched souls and the souls of your children." 

It was then that I thought of my children, my two daughters and my wife, Also, my father and mother. They were the only family I had now. I intuitively rose up, turn, and follow the chariot tracks so I could return back to the Goshen valley and my city, Pithom. The sun was beginning to descend toward the horizon giving me several hour-glasses of light left because all Egyptian know that the desert was no place to be after dark.