The Twelfth Insight - James Redfield [61]
When I woke up, Coleman was already awake and arranging his things. He leaned over when he saw me stirring.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Two A.M.,” he said. “We’ll be landing in Cairo in twenty minutes.”
He looked sleepy, as though the crowded seats had further fatigued him during the night. And I felt the same way. I couldn’t have slept more than a few hours.
Once on the ground, we hurried to pick up our luggage and find our ride to St. Katherine. When it arrived, we were pleased that it was a large van and we were the only passengers. The vehicle had two long bench seats so that we both could lie down. We slept the whole way there, rolling in about eleven that morning.
The town was basically a collection of cross streets filled with tourist service buildings and small lodges, all built in the bottom of a bowl-shaped valley. On all sides were huge, towering red mountain peaks, including, toward the southeast, the Sinai range.
We called around on a pay phone until we found a small lodge nearest to Mount Sinai, and by the time we walked into the tiny office to check in, the pace of travel had taken its toll. My energy had fallen substantially, so I went though my mental checklist of Integrations to get centered: expect intuition and Synchronicity, stay in Alignment, and come back to a love Connection. Now, I added one more: intend Oneness.
When we rang the bell on the attendant’s desk, we were greeted by a distinguished-looking older gentleman with gray hair. He spoke perfect English but at first seemed extremely cautious, asking us many questions about our travel plans and passports. Yet by the time we finished checking in, he was smiling and extremely friendly.
He gave us our keys, and then, as we were walking away, he looked thoughtful for a moment.
“If you care for a hike,” he said, “there is a trail just outside that leads to a nearby hill. It provides a splendid view of the town and the Mountain of Moses.”
We thanked him and headed down the long hall to our rooms, which we found perfectly placed directly across from each other. Even better, my room had an outside door, which opened on to a small patio. We could see the walkway to the hill across the street.
“This is great,” Coleman said.
After showers, we walked next door and had a great meal in a little restaurant. When we finished, I asked, “What do you get when you tune in to whether we should contact the flight attendant’s brother, Joseph?”
He thought for moment. “I get the feeling we should do it. It’s logical and also feels right.”
I grabbed my phone and texted Joseph that we had met his sister-in-law and asked if we could talk to him about the Document. I left the phone on so we’d hear the reply if one came in.
“Okay,” Coleman said. “Let’s hike this hill.”
The day was beautiful. The sun shone brightly, with small puffs of white clouds dotting a crisp blue sky. As we walked, we gazed out at the red mountains rising all around us.
“Wow,” Coleman said. “This looks a lot like Sedona.”
We followed the trail over to the hill and started up, truly amazed by the colors in the rocks themselves. Along with the red were streaks of gray and gold. With every step I began to feel better.
“This hill feels like Sedona, too,” Coleman said.
At a certain point, the path meandered by a flat ledge that over-hung the city, so we stopped and looked down at the town. Just as I was immersing myself in the vista, I noticed Coleman nodding toward something up ahead.
On the other side of the overhang was a rounded protrusion of rock, and on top, a man was kneeling alone on a prayer cloth. He had long dark hair and a short beard and was looking out into the distance toward the southeast. Without seeing us, he turned to a seated position, pulled out a cell phone, and entered in a number.
Suddenly, my text ring went off on my phone. When the man heard