Redemption at the Eleventh Hour

by Andrew Crown

  Chapter XII

  The two men lounged at the table with Asher breathing heavily and massaging his biceps. The soothing relief partially offset the frustration of a long day without much activity from the fish. Dismas’ muscles were sore, too. The repetitive motion of casting and pulling in the net without many fish to reward his efforts took a mental toll. It was always easier when the fish cooperated. He tried different positions on his pillow to try to alleviate some of the tension in his muscles.

  Leah coughed behind them as she prepared the evening meal.

  “Tomorrow will be better,” Asher stated confidently to no one in particular as he stared off into space.

  Dismas glanced over at Leah, hoping to catch her eye. She kept her back to him as she continued her preparations. He wondered if they would ever be able to get back to the way they were before. Despite their frequent close proximity, she had successfully avoided looking at him and talking to him for days. He was relieved, however, that she remained steadfast in her promise and had not told her father about his past. For this, Dismas was grateful, although he could not express his gratitude to her until she permitted him speak with her. And who knew when that would be.

  After a moment, Dismas gave up on trying to lock eyes with Leah and responded to Asher, “It does seem to have an ebb and flow to it. A slow day or two is usually followed by big haul.”

  Leah coughed again behind them, filling the small room with a slight echo.

  “That’s what I always say,” the more experienced fisherman concurred. “You cannot prematurely adjust your strategy or technique. Just stay the course and focus on consistency. If you have confidence in your abilities, God will reward your efforts eventually.”

  A series of coughs erupted behind them. Asher finally spun around, concerned. “Leah, are you alright? Can I get you some water?”

  “No, thank you. I think I am well.” No sooner had the words escaped her lips than another round of coughs forced her forearm to her mouth.

  “Sounds like the early onset of a cold,” Dismas suggested. “Perhaps a few days of rest would be beneficial. Then you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

  “Yes. Why don’t you go to bed, Leah? Dismas and I can take care of ourselves tonight. Get some sleep.”

  Leah looked relieved at the prospect of resting and avoiding more contact with Dismas. “Yes, Father.” Coughing loudly, she obediently went to lie down.

  Asher’s eyes were riveted on the spot where she had stood.

  Dismas tried to reassure him, “Asher, it is probably a simple cold. Nothing more.”

  The father turned to face Dismas with tears welling in his eyes. His words were barely above a whisper. “This is how it began with her mother…”

  Dismas tried to recall what they had told him earlier about Asher’s deceased wife. It was a long time ago and Dismas thought it rude to bring it up on his own accord.

  Asher without being asked, enlightened him. With the pain of the past showing in his eyes, he cleared his throat. “It started just like this with my wife—a small cough for a few days. We hadn’t thought it was anything serious and with some rest, she would be back to her former self in a short time.”

  Asher paused for a moment and dabbed his eyes with a cloth. Dismas said nothing while he waited for him to continue. After a sniffle, he said, “The cough just got worse and worse. Soon she began to cough up blood. It was terrible! But then she got even sicker. Boils began to form on her body, particularly around her armpits and groin. Big, black, painful boils. In all my years I have never seen anything quite like it, Dismas. I was at a loss and so were the other people in the village. No one could make the sickness stop or ease her pain.”

  He cleared his throat. “There is nothing more tormenting, Dismas, than watching your wife die in agony while you sit there helplessly, utterly useless. Observing her slowly slipping away from you, each day worse than the last. She was dead in a few weeks after the cough started, and my life has never been the same since. I have prayed to God every day that that sickness does not revisit this house. I know my heart will not be able to handle it again.”

  “It could still be just a cold,” Dismas said optimistically but once the words left his mouth, he realized how feeble they sounded following Asher’s emotional story.

  “Aye, yes. It could still be a cold,” Asher said flatly as he rubbed his eyes. “We will find out for sure soon enough.” His voice was almost at a whimper. Dismas gave his shoulder a reassuring pat as the men rose to finish preparing their supper.

  Later that night Dismas lay on his mat, his sleep interrupted by Leah’s continuous coughing in the small house. If he was religious, he would have said a prayer, but his rational unbelieving mind told him that it was a silly, useless gesture. So instead he silently hoped for the best as deep coughs echoed throughout the quiet space.

  *

  Asher looked gravely concerned the next morning, as Leah’s condition had gotten worse. Her tan skin looked pale and her eyes were bloodshot. The coughing was almost continuous, and it was so bad that she nearly doubled over. Asher insisted that she remain in bed.

  “Dismas, we will stay home today and look after Leah,” he said.

  “No, Father,” Leah protested as she rubbed her sore diaphragm. “I can manage just fine. I promise I won’t go visit the sick or needy today. They will understand that I need my rest and Miriam will be fine on her own.”

  Asher objected but Leah had enough strength left to stand firm. She logically pointed out that the household always needed a steady supply of food coming in, and they had a disappointing haul yesterday. It would do her no good if they went hungry and broke on her behalf. Reluctantly, the men trudged to the boat.

  The weather was calm, and the water was like glass. Asher and Dismas sailed several hundred yards from the shore and began casting their nets. Within a half an hour, it was clear that their bad luck from yesterday had reversed. They were fortunate to bring in a few full nets—so heavy that both men struggled to bring them into the boat. Asher was delighted not only for the fish but because that might mean a short day on the water so he could look after his ailing daughter.

  “A couple more nets like these, Dismas and we will be able to head home!”

  The two men exchanged few words as they worked. They seemed to share the same thought: work quickly and efficiently to catch as many fish as possible so they could return to shore. Within four hours, they had collected all the fish their boat could hold.

  “Well done, Dismas! God is with us today.” Asher beamed. “Let’s head back.”

  The boat rose and fell little across the smooth water on its way to land. Soon the brown rocky bottom was clearly visible to Dismas as he gazed over the side. The pebbles on the bottom grew clearer as the water shallowed. He and Asher jumped into the cool water and pulled the boat a little closer to the shore. Soon the men were back at the house with nets full of fish slung over their shoulders. Dismas agreed to store the fish in barrels outside so Asher could check on his daughter immediately.

  “It’s no problem, Asher. I’m much faster than I used to be at doing this. Go to Leah.” Asher gave the younger man’s shoulder a pat of gratitude. Then, with a spring in his step, he rushed to the door.

  A moment later, Dismas heard a cry as if someone was in pain. He immediately dropped his net on the ground and hurried inside. It took a moment to adjust to the contrast from the bright light outside to the much darker house. Once his eyes settled, he saw Asher kneeling next to Leah, who was propped up on a pillow against the low table. Both were crying. Her hands were outstretched in front of her, covered in blood. Her sobs were interrupted by a loud and forceful cough. A trickle of blood appeared at the corners of her mouth.

  Horrorstruck, Dismas met Asher’s pale gaze. “It…it’s the same sickness that afflicted her mother,” the older man said, his voice trembling. “I know it. I lived through this hell before!”

  At this last exclamation, Leah started to c
ry harder. Her chest heaved in convulsions impervious to the soothing but quivering caress of her helpless father.

  Dismas raced to grab a piece of cloth to catch the blood that was spraying on the floor from her coughing.

  “Help me bring her to bed, Dismas!” Asher commanded. Obediently, Dismas grabbed Leah around the ankles while her father grabbed around her armpits. Leah wailed in agony as she was moved into the adjacent room.

  “Almost there, my dear. Almost there,” Asher soothed.

  Leah lay on the straw mat for the rest of the afternoon and her cries of pain kept the two men up all night. Each one offered to stay with her while the other slept, but both refused the other’s selflessness out of their love for Leah. Dismas was brokenhearted to see her once radiant face grow pale and drawn. Her pearly white teeth were stained red by the constant expulsion of blood as she coughed furiously. Dismas had never known such a feeling of intense helplessness.

  Asher conceived a way to elevate his daughter’s torso with a straw stuffed pillow which granted her a temporary respite as she slipped into a fitful sleep. Her coughing subsided enough that she was finally able to doze for a few hours before the bloody coughing fits returned once again and awakened her.

  The two men sat on stools at her side as the faint glimmer from the dawn began to illuminate the house.

  “Dismas,” Asher whispered so as not to disturb his daughter. “You should get some rest. We won’t go out on the water today.”

  Dismas turned to him, bleary-eyed. The stress and lack of sleep gave him an appearance like the undead. He respectfully but resolutely said, “No, I cannot allow myself to rest while Leah is in pain. I will stay by her side. You, however, should get some sleep while you can. Your daughter will need you when she awakens. I will come get you without delay should anything happen.”

  Asher turned his head back towards the sleeping woman and blinked several times to keep his eyes open.

  “Dismas, I insist…”

  “And I insist as well, Asher.” Despite his exhaustion, Dismas responded with a surprising firmness in his voice. “A sick woman, no matter how old, needs her father or husband. As Leah is lacking a husband, the least we can do is guarantee that her father has the energy he needs.”

  With these words, Dismas looked back to Leah who tossed her head every few minutes as she slept. Concern filled his face. He would do just about anything to take away her pain.

  This look was not lost on Asher. Dismas had so casually mentioned the lack of Leah’s husband. He remembered seeing the two of them, carefree and laughing on their way back from the Roman castrum.

  Those days seem so long ago now, Asher thought. But one thing was becoming quite clear: Dismas was in love with his daughter. And perhaps the most surprising part, Asher mused to himself, was that he did not object. He was supportive even. Dismas had no family or material wealth, but he unconditionally loved Leah. This is why he had stayed.

  “Lord, if she pulls through this, I will see to it that she marries this man,” Asher prayed silently.

  “Asher?”

  Asher was brought out of the labyrinth of his mind at the sound of Dismas’ voice. The young man looked into his face expectantly.

  “Yes, Dismas. You are right. I will retire for a few hours, my son.” He gave him a pat on the back as he sauntered past. “Do not hesitate to rouse me immediately when she awakens or if there is any change in her condition.”

  “You have my word. Goodnight, Asher.” Dismas glanced out the small opening in the clay brick that served as a window and saw the faint traces of early sunlight dancing on the ground. “Though perhaps it is more appropriate to say good morning.”

  “Good morning then, Dismas.” Asher shuffled off to his own mat but not before casting a glance at Dismas leaning forward to check on his sleeping daughter.

  *

  The next several days were marked by a rapid decline in Leah’s health. The cough worsened and blood-filled boils began to appear around her armpits and groin, just as they had for her mother.

  Asher had seen these boils before, but they were new to Dismas and thus, they terrified him. The dark blood- and pus-filled orbs that seemed to grow in size and quantity by the day. If he did not have such strong feelings for Leah, he felt he would have run from the house in revulsion. Yet he found the fortitude to endure.

  Leah’s crying began to diminish, which Dismas and Asher naively thought signaled a reduction in her pain but was actually caused by her weakening condition. She eventually stopped speaking altogether and could only manage a hoarse whisper which she usually only used when asking for water. The boils grew to the point that she could no longer rest her arms by her side and the heaving of her chest as she coughed was the only regular movement that she made. Both men, deprived of sleep, were beside themselves with worry.

  One morning, Dismas was fetching water for Leah from the main room when he heard a knock on the front door. In his sleep deprived state, the sudden sound startled him. Dismas hesitated, debating whether he should see who was knocking or hurry the water back to the suffering Leah.

  Asher appeared from her room and solved his dilemma. “Give me the water and see to the door.”

  Dismas swiftly handed the pitcher to Asher before opening the door. The light from the sun was partially obscured by a figure in the doorway. After taking a moment to study the visitor, Dismas recoiled in horror. Standing there was a hooded man who appeared to be missing a nose and had a cleft in his upper lip. Dry skin was peeling on his cheeks.

  “Leper!” Dismas shouted and moved to slam the door in the stranger’s face.

  The visitor put out his bandaged hand to block the attempt to close it. “No, not a leper,” he said in a guttural voice. “I have another ailment that poses no threat to you or anyone else in the village.”

  The explanation caused Dismas to pause and look more closely at the disfigured man. He was wrapped in a long brown woolen cloak that extended to his calves. Dismas’ eyes went down to the man’s sandaled feet. The skin on his lower body was in the same condition as his face, raw and peeling. The man gave off an alarming appearance. Yet, a combination of pity and curiosity stayed Dismas’ hand and the door remained opened.

  Sensing his opportunity, the visitor said, “I came to inquire about Leah. Is she unwell?”

  “She is resting now and in no condition for visitors,” Dismas said briskly. “How do you know her?”

  The man’s face contorted grotesquely which revolted Dismas until he realized that he was trying to smile as best he could. “Leah has regularly visited those of us who are disfigured or sick since she was a little girl. She gives us food, water, and clothing. Naturally, we were all concerned when she stopped coming about a week ago and the group appointed me to come over and check on her.”

  “Oh, so you represent those people? As a sort of leader, eh?” said Dismas distastefully. “I appreciate your concern, but she is not doing well at the moment.”

  “It is as we have feared then,” said the man. A long, uncomfortable silence followed as he continued to stand there.

  Not knowing what to say or how to make the man leave, Dismas asked, “Can I get you something? Food? Water?”

  “No, thank you. Another woman, Miriam, has taken good care of us in Leah’s absence. I can, however, give you some help. Are you her brother?”

  “No, I work for her father,” Dismas said sheepishly.

  “Well then please carry this message to him. It is very important.”

  The man paused and studied Dismas. His narrow eyes were the only part of his face that wasn’t red, swollen, and peeling. “Have you heard of the Nazarene? The one they call the Messiah?”

  “No,” Dismas said. “And I’m afraid I must cut this conversation short. I am needed elsewhere.”

  He began to close the door and the visitor again stuck out his heavily bandaged arm to block it with surprising strength. “This man from Nazareth, he is a miracle worker. A healer with gifts that are
not of this world.”

  “I don’t have time for superstitions.” Dismas, exhausted enough already, felt his remaining energy sapped by this stranger.

  “There are many witnesses of his miracles all around the Sea of Galilee. Blind men who can see again years after they have lost their sight. Cripples who have suffered a lifetime of lameness suddenly get up and walk at the urging of this man.”

  Dismas frowned. “If what you say is true, why don’t you go seek Him out to heal you? You could certainly benefit. Why lay in the dirt and live off the charity of people like Leah?”

  “I would very much like to go and see Him, but I cannot make the journey.” The man gestured at his deformities in an effort to make Dismas to understand. “Perhaps this Nazarene will come into our village some day and I can meet Him.”

  “If this man is so powerful, why doesn’t He snap his fingers and be done with all sickness everywhere? Seems a lot easier to me than taking a chance that He stumbles upon someone who needs healing,” Dismas responded with a smirk.

  “I don’t think His purpose is to physically heal everyone,” the man said simply.

  Dismas shook his head in confusion. “Well if He comes here, I’ll be sure to ask for His help.”

  “You mock Him! It’ll be too late then. You are young and you are healthy, go find Him.”

  “I don’t even know the man’s name!” Dismas said, exasperated.

  “He is called Jesus of Nazareth. I have heard He travels with a band of disciples. He shouldn’t be hard to find if you ask around.” The man wheezed and coughed as these last words escaped his lips.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” said Dismas as a means of placating the man. He needed to get back to Leah. “Here, take some fish and water before you go.”

  “Oh, bless you!”

  Dismas fetched a couple fish and a hollowed-out gourd filled with water. The man drank heartily before handing the empty vessel back to Dismas. “Thank you many times, kind sir. I wish you well on your journey.”

  Dismas said nothing and gave a small nod as he closed the door. He heard the man shuffle away, kicking up dust with his awkward gait. Dismas made his way back to Leah and was met by Asher outside her room.