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Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy

Page 7

by Lorilyn Roberts

Brutus asked me to say a blessing and I spoke a Hebrew prayer.

  “Let everyone get their food first,” Brutus said.

  We took turns as each person took a plate full. Red meat for dinner was a rarity.

  At last, Brutus raised his wine glass. “Let’s toast.”

  We all held up our glasses.

  He smiled and made eye contact with each of us before the big announcement. “Shale, my daughter, is coming for a visit.”

  I didn’t know he had a daughter. Who else knew?

  Scylla’s smile left her face but returned before anyone else noticed.

  Judd showed no emotion, but his lack of joy seemed strange. He set down his drink and stared at his plate.

  Nathan sat up straighter and his eyes bulged.

  Mari took a sip of the wine.

  Scylla spoke first. “When? You should have told me earlier. We need to prepare her room, make everything ready.”

  “We have two days,” Brutus said.

  “So you talked with her mother?” Scylla asked.

  Brutus wiped his mouth, set down his napkin, and leaned back in his chair. “Her mother asked if she could come. She’s fourteen now, a young woman.” Brutus lifted his eyebrow and glanced at Judd.

  What did Judd have to do with this? I couldn’t read minds well enough to know specific details except with Nathan. I could only read feelings.

  The room was quiet.

  Judd had eaten only half his food. “May I be excused?” he asked.

  His request was ignored.

  Mari seemed oblivious to Judd’s sudden lack of appetite. “I look forward to meeting her. We’ll do everything we can to make her stay comfortable. Do you know her preferences for food?”

  Brutus puckered his lips. “I haven’t seen her since she was a baby.”

  I wanted to keep the conversation going. “This must be a big event for you to meet her.”

  “Yes. I’m very excited.”

  “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

  “Thank you, Daniel. Make sure Nathan is on his good behavior. You know, I never told him he had a sister. I should have.”

  Nathan smiled broadly.

  I glanced at Nathan. “I have a feeling this will be good for him, to meet his sibling.”

  After dinner, I plodded to my room thinking about Brutus’s daughter. What did she look like? What prompted her visit? How long would she stay?

  The next day I helped Judd with cleaning the stalls and the cave. Scylla said Shale would be coming on a donkey that belonged to the family. Brutus had loaned the donkey to a friend a few months earlier. Brutus had asked the man to send the donkey ahead to fetch her.

  Judd was glad for my help, though his aloofness bothered me.

  I enjoyed being around the animals almost as much as I liked being with Nathan, but I left Judd’s prize donkey, Assassin, alone.

  The day before Shale’s arrival, we received another strange visitor. A small brown and white dog arrived on the back portico. She walked around the outside of the house, sniffing in the corners and checking out the new herb garden I’d planted. I shooed her away before she destroyed the plants.

  She ran over to the gate and started digging. A little mound of dirt gathered behind her legs and she stuck her nose in the hole. The four-legged animal emerged with a large bone. I laughed. When had she buried that thing?

  After digging out the bone, she brought it to me and laid it at my feet. I knelt down and scratched her behind the ear. She barked and ran over to the entrance to the cave.

  When Judd came out, she scurried inside.

  “Do you know that dog?” I asked. I was concerned about what havoc she might cause and followed her into the cave.

  “Much-Afraid, did she come back?”

  I pointed to where she had left her bone. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, she just arrived and dug up her bone.”

  I added, “What a strange name for a dog.”

  Judd shrugged. “Much-Afraid ran away after Brutus loaned his friend the donkey. I heard she showed up at the friend’s farm and stayed. Now that Baruch is coming back, I guess she decided to return.”

  Judd stepped back inside the cave and walked over to the water bin to wash his hands. His sudden obsession with hand washing seemed odd. He had also taken to mumbling.

  What did you say?” I asked.

  His eyes darted back and forth. “Nothing important.”

  Whatever was bothering him, he didn’t want to talk about it. I wandered outside and retrieved Much-Afraid’s bone and then went back inside the cave. I’d give it to her later.

  The dog appeared to visit all the animals but hung around one pig in particular. The canine dug herself a bed in the cool dirt beside the stall. As the dog crouched in front of the pig’s gate, the squealing hog lumbered over to the entrance. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were old friends getting reacquainted.

  Her resemblance to the dog that followed me around in the old city of Jerusalem was remarkable. Was it a coincidence?

  That evening I lay in the grassy field staring up at the beet red sky. I had been here five months, but it didn’t feel as if so much time had passed.

  Much-Afraid approached, wagging her tail. She licked my hand and curled up beside me. I remembered her bone and pulled it out of my bag. She chewed contentedly as I scratched her head.

  My thoughts returned to Brutus’s daughter. I liked the sound of the name, Shale, but I had a feeling someone else did too—even if he refused to talk about it.

  CHAPTER 17 HOUSE GUEST

  Evening turned into night. What secrets hid among the stars? The wings of light covered the blackness creating unbelievable beauty. I sighed. How could I admire God’s handiwork and still refuse to worship him?

  I relented. “I know you are the God of Isaac, Jacob and Abraham, but when are you going to be mindful of me?” Clouds covered the moon creating make-believe shadows.

  Did God make deals with man? I didn’t know. I wanted to believe he still cared.

  The next morning I rose early and finished my chores. Homeschooling Nathan took up a good portion of the day. I’d read to him in Greek and Latin. The chance to expand his mind would help him in other ways even if he never said a word, and I enjoyed the chance to hone my Greek skills.

  Brutus had scrolls in languages from all over the world, including Egyptian and Arabic. We spoke Aramaic most of the time. I was fortunate that my father spoke Aramaic having grown up in Malula, Syria, where Aramaic was common. How else could I have spoken the language of the people in the first century?

  When I returned the Greek and Latin scrolls following our language studies, I saw a Hebrew scroll I had never noticed before. Curious, I pulled it out.

  It was from the book of Isaiah. I glanced at a passage where someone had made some illegible notes.

  “He had no form or beauty, that we should look at him:

  No charm, that we should find him pleasing.

  He was despised, shunned by men

  A man of suffering, familiar with disease.

  As one who hid his face from us,

  He was despised, we held him of no account.

  Yet it was our sickness that he was bearing,

  Our suffering that he endured.

  We accounted him plagued,

  Smitten and afflicted by God;

  But he was wounded because of our sins,

  Crushed because of our iniquities.

  He bore the chastisement that made us whole,

  And by his bruises we were healed.”

  I paused to consider the words. Of whom was Isaiah speaking? I didn’t remember reading these verses in the Tanakh—but when was the last time I had even opened the Scriptures?

  I read a little more.

  “He was maltreated, yet he was submissive,

  He did not open his mouth;

  Like a sheep being led to slaughter,

  Like a ewe, dumb before those who shear her,

  He did
not open his mouth.

  By oppressive judgment he was taken away,

  Who could describe his abode?

  For he was cut off from the land of the living

  Through the sin of my people, who deserved the punishment.

  And his grave was set among the wicked.

  And with the rich, in his death—

  Though he had done no injustice

  And had spoken no falsehood.

  But the Lord chose to crush him by disease,

  That, if he made himself an offering for guilt,

  He might see offspring and have long life,

  And that through him the Lord’s purpose might prosper.

  Out of his anguish he shall see it;

  He shall enjoy it to the full through his devotion.”

  I put the scroll back on the shelf. To whom was Isaiah referring?

  When Brutus rode away on his horse a little later, I hurried to find Mari. She was laying out clothes on the rocks to dry them.

  “Is Shale not coming today? How can Brutus leave on the day of his daughter’s arrival?”

  Mari sighed. “It’s so unfortunate. There has been another uprising and they needed him in Jerusalem.”

  “So he won’t even be here to greet her.”

  Her eyes met mine in uncharacteristic sadness. “He promised he’d be back as soon as possible. We need to pray for his speedy return.”

  I nodded.

  Mari smiled. “You have a kind heart.”

  I laughed. Mari was five years older than I was and seemed like a sister. If I had a problem, she was the one I went to see. She had plenty to do without distraction, so I went back to my own mental to-do list.

  I couldn’t resist keeping a vigil. Every few minutes I’d find an excuse to steal a look down the road. By noon, I had become so preoccupied with her arrival I had not gotten much work done. I imagined a beautiful young woman coming over the hill on a donkey. And then I reminded myself I was setting myself up for disappointment. So I would imagine a fat cow coming over the hill on a donkey—and guessed she’d be somewhere in between.

  I soon discovered I wasn’t the only one watching. I caught Judd gazing down the road, too, though I pretended I didn’t notice, and he seemed to be unaware of me. Or maybe neither of us wanted to acknowledge we were both interested in the same young girl’s arrival. The only problem was there was only one girl but there were two of us.

  I found myself copying him, washing my hands and combing my hair and looking at my reflection in the water. Since arriving, I’d grown a beard, which made me look older. Judd was three years younger than me. Maybe my age gave me a competitive advantage.

  Still, I imagined a family secret that had something to do with Judd. If my ability to read minds could be that specific, I’d know all the family secrets.

  At last, a donkey carrying a young girl appeared in view. When I first spotted them, they were a great distance away, merely a tiny dot on the horizon.

  I stood on a rocky outcrop filled with anticipation. As she came nearer, I could see her long brown hair below her head covering. She sat sideways with her legs draped to one side of the donkey—and she wasn’t flabby or old.

  My heart fluttered. I strained to see what she was wearing—a tasteful flowery, purple dress. Water bottles hung off the sides of the donkey. She must have traveled a long distance to carry that many jugs.

  Judd said the donkey’s name was Baruch. The animal appeared to be gentle, but I wished he’d speed up a little. He could walk faster if he wanted.

  As they neared, I noticed her stomach bulged. Was she pregnant? Oh, no, don’t tell me that. My initial excitement at meeting her paled in comparison with my despair that she was pregnant. Maybe that was the secret and no one wanted to say.

  After a few minutes of eyestrain fixated on the young girl’s belly—and feeling guilty for my preoccupation with that part of her body, I decided she didn’t have a bulging stomach. She had shifted, readjusted herself, and something white popped up. Then it moved. I squinted. No, it couldn’t be. A rabbit?

  Why would a young girl on a long journey be traveling with a rabbit? Forget the rabbit—I wanted to see her face, but her head covering shadowed her features.

  I heard someone approaching and turned.

  Judd acted nonchalant and cool, like this was any other day. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

  “That’s our new house guest. Scylla told me to receive her.”

  Judd squinted as he gazed across the field before turning away. Maybe he wasn’t interested in her, but his behavior seemed contradictory.

  I couldn’t tell if he was glad she was coming or hated the extra work that came with her arrival. I’d have to work on trying to read his mind—after I figured out how to read hers.

  As Shale approached, I hid behind the fence. I didn’t want to look too anxious. Besides, she would want to meet her father and would be very disappointed that he wasn’t here.

  The donkey stopped underneath some palm trees next to the road. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to go any further. The moment had arrived. I slicked back my brown hair and wiped the perspiration off my face.

  As I approached, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I should have gone to the bathroom. Her keen eyes latched onto mine and I forced myself not to stare. She was bright and fair, lighter in color than I expected.

  Her mannerisms reminded me of her father’s, the way she sat on the donkey and followed me with her eyes. She smiled shyly.

  Then she looked down, as if checking her dress, smoothing it out with one hand and holding the white rabbit with the other.

  I introduced myself in Aramaic, “Can I help you?”

  She responded in kind. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Shale Snyder.”

  “Here, let me help you down.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “It was a long journey and I’m glad to be here.”

  I lifted the young girl off the animal, taking care not to embarrass her in any way, and set her down. She seemed more concerned about the rabbit than her modesty, clutching the small furry creature.

  “I pray you had safe travels.”

  “Yes, I did.” She stretched her body and smoothed her dress below her knees.

  “Your father has been expecting you.”

  A look of surprise fell across her face. “What? What did you say?”

  I realized I’d said something I shouldn’t. But considering the circumstances, what else should I have said?

  I changed the subject. “You’ve traveled a long distance?”

  “Yes. But what did you say about my father?”

  At that moment Scylla approached. I was glad she came before I made another faux pas.

  Scylla had dolled herself up to impress Shale and walked with an edge of superiority. What a false façade. Could Shale perceive her fakeness?

  “How are you, Shale? I’m Scylla, your father’s wife. Brutus is expecting you. He’ll be back from Jerusalem shortly.”

  Scylla reached out to shake Shale’s hand, much like two political leaders from Israel and Syria would shake hands over a fake peace treaty. I wished Shale’s father had been here to greet her.

  The young girl was reserved but very observant. Physically she was tall for the girls of this time. Her high cheekbones and long eyelashes made her look like a Hollywood beauty. Maybe she wore mascara—unheard of in first century Palestine—unless you were a person of means.

  I knew nothing about her mother. Shale reminded me of the girls back home—a sophisticated worldliness that had its virtues and flaws.

  “We missed you, Baruch,” said Scylla. She patted the donkey. “I’m glad you’re home now.”

  I was surprised at Scylla’s kindness towards the animal although she had always made sure the animals had food and the best care—her one redeeming quality.

  “And what about the rabbit?” asked Scylla. “Can my servant take the animal back with Baruch? We have a cave where we keep the an
imals safe at night, a stable.”

  Shale hesitated.

  I smiled reassuringly. “I can give him some vegetables.”

  “It’s a she,” Shale corrected me. “Her name is Cherios.”

  I squirmed. “Pardon me. Let me take Cherios and Baruch and give them each some food and water.”

  She relented with my reassurance.

  “How about your bag?”

  “Bag—yes, but I think I’ll hold on to the knapsack.”

  Shale patted Baruch, the donkey. “See you in a bit, and you, too, Cherios.” She handed me a blanket. “If you would take that also.”

  I led the donkey around to the back, holding the white rabbit underneath my arm.

  Judd sat on the rocky ledge that led to the cave’s door. Ambivalence shadowed his face. He eyed Baruch with familiarity. “So Shale has arrived?”

  I nodded. “Where do I put this donkey?”

  Without answering my question, Judd’s eyes turned to the rabbit. “She brought a rabbit?”

  “Yes.”

  “I bet he’d taste good in rabbit soup.”

  I scrawled at him. “Cherios is a pet rabbit, and it’s a she.”

  Judd looked indignant. “So what does Shale look like?” He stood and followed me.

  No sooner was the cave door cracked than Much-Afraid bolted. She ran around the yard sniffing the air as if chasing a faint scent. Then she ran back and pawed at Baruch with unveiled excitement. The dog licked Baruch’s face and crouched in friendly submission, wagging her tail. Curtsy sashays and whimpers of joy followed. Was this a dog’s way of saying, “Welcome home”?

  After a few minutes, Much-Afraid ran to the back portico and sat, wagging her tail at the closed door.

  How did she know we had a guest? I called her but she ignored me. I put out food—but she didn’t even want that. Shale had won over the heart of Much-Afraid without even meeting her—or so I thought.

  ~~~

  Judd disappeared just as he was needed—after I realized Much-Afraid wasn’t going to leave the back portico. Which stall did he prepare for the donkey? I led the donkey inside the cave, still clutching the rabbit that was now wiggling to be free.

  I closed the cave door behind me to make sure she couldn’t escape, but I was hesitant to put her down until I could find the right container. We had open wooden crates and water jugs and horse stalls and pigsties, but nothing seemed appropriate for a small white rabbit.

 

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