Dizziness swept over Carrie as she was struck again by the full impact of what—who—she had found. God had touched this woman as He had touched no other human being. She’d carried the incarnation of His Son. And now she lay here, not two feet in front of Carrie.
This is really her. This is the Mother of God.
Until yesterday, the Blessed Virgin had been a statue, a painting, words in books. Now, looking at her aged face, her glossy, uncorrupted flesh, Carrie appreciated her as a woman. A human being. All those years, all those countless Hail Marys, and never once had Carrie realized that this Mary she’d prayed to as an intercessor had once been a flesh-and-blood human being. That made all the suffering in Mary’s life so much more real.
And rising with the love came a fierce protective urge, almost frightening in its intensity.
No one must touch her. No one must desecrate or defile her in any way. No one must use her for anything. Anything! The Church itself couldn’t be trusted. Who knew what even the Vatican might do? She’d dreamed during the night of the Blessed Mother’s remains on display in St. Peter’s in Rome and it had sickened her.
Mary had given enough already, and Carrie knew it was up to her to see to it that no one demanded any more of her.
Dear Mother, whoever was left to guard you is long since dead and gone. I’ll take care of you. I’ll be your protector from now on.
She unfolded the dark blue flannel blankets she had brought. Dan set the lantern down and helped her spread them out on the floor. The bright light cast their distorted shadows against the wall where the Virgin lay in her stony niche.
“All right,” she said when the blankets were right. “Help me move her out.”
She didn’t want anyone else touching the Virgin, not even Dan, but she couldn’t risk lifting her out of that niche on her own. God forbid she slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the floor.
As Dan approached the Virgin’s upper torso, Carrie waved him back.
“I’ll take this end. You take her feet.”
Her hands shook as she approached the Virgin. What was this going to be like, touching her? She hesitated a moment, then wriggled her fingers under the Virgin’s cloak and cowl, slipping her hands under her neck and the small of her back. The fabric felt so clean, so new...how could this be two thousand years old?
Unsettled, she glanced to her right. What did Dan think? But Dan stood there with his hands under the Virgin’s knees and ankles, expressionless, waiting for her signal.
She suddenly realized that things had changed since yesterday afternoon. Until then, Dan had been in charge. Sure, this trip had been her idea, but Dan had made all the flight arrangements, decided where to stay, what car to rent, while she’d done all the research. But here, in this chamber, in the presence of the Virgin, she was in charge.
“All right,” she said. “Lift.”
And as she lifted, a knifepoint of doubt pierced Carrie for an instant: So light! Almost as if she were hollow. And so stiff.
She brushed the misgivings away. The Virgin was small, and God had preserved her flesh. That was why she was so light and stiff.
Carefully they backed up, cradling the Virgin in their arms, then knelt and gently placed her on the blankets.
“Stiff as a board,” Dan said. “You know, Carrie, I really think—”
Carrie knew what he was going to say and she didn’t want to hear it.
“Please, Dan. Let’s just wrap her up and move her out as we agreed.”
He stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “Okay.”
Dan seemed to have had a change of heart overnight. Last night he’d been dead set against her plan to bring the Virgin back to New York, yet this morning he seemed all for it. But not because he’d suddenly become a believer in the authenticity of their discovery. He was still locked into his Doubting Thomas role.
The Virgin’s unnatural lightness and rigidity, plus Dan’s continuing doubts, only fanned her desire to move the Virgin to a safer hiding place. Even if she fell into the hands of people with the best intentions, they’d want to examine her, test her to verify her authenticity. They’d scan her, take samples of her hair, skin scrapings, biopsy her, maybe even—God forbid—autopsy her.
No way, Carrie thought as she folded the blankets over the Virgin, wrapping her rigid form in multiple flannel layers. No way.
Dan helped her tie the blankets in place with the heavy twine they’d bought in En Gedi. They tied her around the shoulders, waist, thighs, and knees. With Carrie leading the way, slipping through the little tunnel first and guiding their precious bundle after her, they moved the Virgin into the front chamber, then through the opening at the top of the cave mouth onto the rock pile.
Squinting in the brightness of the mid-morning sun, they carried her to the far edge of the mini-plateau atop the tav.
“I didn’t realize she was this light,” Dan said, “and that gives me an idea on how we can increase our safety factor here.”
“Who’s safety?”
“Our prize’s.”
Carrie couldn’t get over the change in Dan’s attitude.
“I’m all ears.”
‡
Dan’s voice echoed down from atop the tav rock.
“Ready?”
Carrie shielded her eyes with her hand and looked up. Dan was a silhouette against the bright blue of the sky, standing on the tav’s overhang directly above, waving to her. She answered with a broad wave of her own.
“Go ahead!”
As Carrie saw the snugly tied-and-wrapped bundle slip over the edge of the lip and start its slow descent toward her, she became unaccountably afraid. Everything was set—she’d moved the Explorer under the lip just as Dan had suggested, and here she was, ready to guide the Virgin into the vehicle when she was lowered to within reach—but she could not escape the felling that something was about to go wrong.
She should have stayed with Dan. Two sets of hands up there were better than one. He’d tied the heavier rope to the cords around the Virgin while she’d made her way to the bottom. What if he hadn’t tied the knots securely enough? What if the rope slipped out of his hands as he was lowering her?
What if he dropped her on purpose, hoping she’d smash into a thousand pieces to prove that he’d been right all along?
Carrie reigned in her stampeding thoughts. How could she even think such a thing? She was sure it hadn’t crossed Dan’s mind.
Then why had it crossed hers?
Maybe she was losing perspective. It was the heat, the distance from home, the isolation of the desert...it was the epiphany of standing before the Mother of God and then cradling her remains in her arms.
So much had happened in the past 24 hours and the cumulative effect was...overwhelming.
She shook herself and concentrated on the blue of the descending bundle, twisting and swaying on its slowly lengthening tether. Dan was out of sight beyond the lip. She lifted her arms, waiting. Soon it was just above her, and then she had a grip on two of the binding cords. As it continued its descent she swung it around and guided it feet first toward the open rear door of the Explorer.
And then it was done. The Virgin was off the tav and safely at rest in the back of their car.