Soon we were joined by a woman on a donkey with a small child. “Where are you headed?” she asked.
“We’re on our way to the Decapolis to meet the king.”
“So am I,” the woman said. “My baby needs healing.”
I glanced down at the little one she held in her arms. “Let’s travel together.”
She nodded. We rode for a while beside each other. Two more joined us. As we walked along, one of the men said, “We heard the king is in the Decapolis. We want to meet him.”
“That’s where we’re going, too.” Our small caravan grew larger as we walked along.
Three more joined us, then five, ten, twenty. The road opened wide and dozens more joined our band. Some came in robes, others in gowns, still others in uniforms and ordinary clothes from every country. Some were rich and some were poor. Some were old and some were young. Some were famous and some not so famous. Some lived at that time and others were yet to be born—all traveling on the same road to meet the king. The sheep, Little, joined us. We were as a flock in search of a shepherd.
Before my eyes, the heavens opened. Thousands of angels walked alongside us. More angels flew overhead, gleaming swords in hand, protecting us from wicked demons in pursuit of wanderers and lost souls who weren’t yet claimed. The angels were stronger.
Warriors shouted prayers and fighters waged a valiant defense against usurpers and underlings and demons and all who sought to kill the king’s possessions. For the first time in my life, I knew I had become part of a great battle. I was not just Shale Snyder. I was a daughter of the king worth fighting for—even unto death.
On all sides, throngs of people watched the great spectacle. I wasn’t walking alone. In fact, I’d never been alone. Even hiding in the closet long ago, I wasn’t alone. Thunderous shouts and clapping hands shook the heavens. The clanging of swords echoed, creating sparks in the sky like firecrackers. Thousands of dark underlings fell from the heavens like battered hail.
We sang as we traveled. “Hineh ma tov 'mana'yim, shevet achim gam yachad. Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together.”
It didn’t take long to find the crowd—over four thousand souls gathered before the king.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Unexpected Encounter
Much-Afraid plopped down in the grass and Cherios sat in my lap. The seekers gathered in small groups, sitting on flat rocks and grass and blankets. The king walked among us, picking up small children and blessing them. His voice reached even me, so far away, words of encouragement, peace, and love. Nothing could deafen his voice to those who wished to hear him.
Hours went by but the moments passed too quickly. I listened, mesmerized, hanging on to every utterance as if it might be his last. My heart marveled with the rest of the crowd at his teachings.
Much-Afraid snuggled up to me and Cherios cleaned her paws. Her eyes were bright, being around the king, like she was back home in the garden. Baruch munched on the grass. After months of worry that he would be turned into bacon, Lowly made a surprise announcement, “The king loves me, even a lowly pig like me.”
The king spoke with authority unlike anyone had spoken to me before:
“Come unto me, all of you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“How can he know so much, being a carpenter from Galilee?” one man remarked.
“No, I think he’s John the Baptist,” another man said.
“I think he’s Elijah,” a woman countered.
I believed he was the Son of God.
After a while, the king took a break to discuss some business with his disciples. Soon baskets were passed around stacked with fish and bread.
“Where did the fish come from?” someone asked.
People shook their heads. No one knew. “We’re so remote here, there’s no bread or fish for miles,” a woman muttered.
I waited for a basket. A boy with a shawl covering his eyes approached and offered me a helping. I glanced up at the boy’s face and almost fainted.
“Judd.”
“He nodded and smiled in a strange sort of way.
What was he doing here? I glanced down at his hand. It was healed. Others were waiting for me to take my portion. I reached in and took some fish and bread, watching as he continued to the next person.
“How can that be?” I asked.
“I told you, Shale, he has been feeding us better,” Much-Afraid said.
“Why would the king want to heal him?” My life hadn’t changed. What about me? A voice spoke to me, “Don’t let others steal your joy. Don’t be jealous of others or concerned about not receiving their blessing. Think about the good things the king has given you.”
I didn’t want to deny what the king said but I also wasn’t willing to believe Judd was worth healing. I knew my attitude was wrong, but in my anger, I couldn’t change what I felt.
I hated Judd—since I was twelve and he put the curse on me. Who wouldn’t hate him? No matter how hard I tried, though, I was unable to justify my own stinking selfishness.
Evening came. I wanted to love but I was unwilling to give up my hate. Could the king’s words penetrate my hardened heart? What joy would fill me if I surrendered everything to the king?
Baruch nudged me with his nose. “Where do we go now, Miss Shale?”
The crowds were leaving to return to their homes. I didn’t feel like I had one. I closed my eyes and prayed. “If I’m a daughter of the king, please forgive me. I’m sorry for my wrong attitude.”
Nothing changed on the outside, but I felt better on the inside. Four sets of eyes watched me. They needed me to take care of them. Who was I, to think that I could do anything on my own?
“We must go back to the home the king has given me. Maybe my life will be better if I have a different attitude. ‘My yoke is easy,’ the king said. Let’s go.”
We headed back and arrived as darkness settled. I took the animals to the cave, kissed them good-bye, and then returned to my room. Mari locked me in and took the key.
“Scylla was sick all day,” Mari said. “She never knew you were gone.”
“Thanks,” I told her.
Mari smiled and waved at me as she headed down the stairs.
I moaned. Why did the king want me here? Submission? Acceptance of those things I couldn’t change?
***
Several months passed. One night, after a lonely day, I wrote in my diary:
“Dear Dog, I count it as all joy, the loss of my freedom, believing you have better things for me in the future. Please help me with my unbelief that crouches at my heart.”
Some nights I cried myself to sleep, but now that Mari trusted me, she would unlock the door when Scylla wasn’t home or sleeping. Then I could visit the animals.
As time passed, I grew accustomed to Judd and not as fearful to be around him, though I still refused to talk to him. Was he, indeed, a follower of the king? To be honest, I struggled to believe it was possible. At times, I still wanted to hate him, for he had not suffered like me. On those days, I prayed hard for the king to help me.
I had forgiven enough to please the king but not so much that I gave up all my pain. Fear and worry had been my constant companions since birth. Even if I gave them up on a good day, when I was feeling strong, one or the other would return and torture me the next day or the next. I didn’t know how to make forgiveness stick. I didn’t know how not to worry. Even if I could, what would fill up that huge hole in my heart the bloody intruders left behind? I didn’t know how to be completely like the king, even though I tried.
Months passed. Scylla fell into deep depression and rarely came out of her private quarters. Sometimes I’d hear her cry out—though I never understood what she said. She was battling dark demons—enough to keep her locked away for a long time. I was disap
pointed my father had not returned and that I had not heard from Daniel.
Each day I wrote in my diary another utterance of the king. I prayed his words would become real to me—real enough that I’d be filled with his joy.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.”
I lamented I couldn’t remember the rest the king said about this. When would I hear his voice again?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Terrible News
The teachings of the king filled my heart—words of love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness. One afternoon, I lay on the soft grass in the field sharing a quiet moment with the animals. Lowly was scratching her back, legs pumping in the air. Much-Afraid was chasing Cherios, frolicking in the cool breeze that pushed the clouds lazily by. The puffy billows reminded me of the cotton candy I bought at the fair once before I got sick on the roller coaster.
The chirping of the birds, the buzzing of the insects, even the sounds of silence became gifts that enriched my life. I came to appreciate the value of owning nothing and the lavishness of the ordinary.
Each day, as I enjoyed the beauty of my surroundings, his words came to me and I wrote them down:
“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”
Still, a shadow lingered over me and sadness ate at my heart.
I heard Worldly Crow before I saw him. Flapping wings announced his arrival. I peered at him upside-down as I was on my back staring up into the sky. “I haven't seen you in a while.”
“I bring terrible news.”
My heart fluttered and I scooted up to look directly at him. “What news?”
“The king is dead.”
“What?” I cried out. “That’s impossible.”
“The king has been killed—he was hung on a tree between two robbers. Only criminals die like that. His body was removed by some friends and they put him in the borrowed grave of a rich man. It’s Passover for the Jews. They couldn’t leave a dead body hanging over Passover.”
I sat stunned—speechless. How could the king have died? I hunched over, grabbing my stomach. “No, it can’t be.”
“What are you talking about? Who is dead?” Cherios asked.
Lowly and Much-Afraid came running. “What happened, Shale, what happened to the king?”
“Worldly Crow says the king is dead.”
Worldly Crow wiped his eye with his wing, as if he were shedding a tear. Then he added, “A strange thing happened on the way over here.”
Whatever happened couldn’t make up for what had already taken place. I covered my face in my hands. “I can’t believe anyone would want to kill him.” Tears fell uncontrollably.
Cherios scooted up close and laid her head in my lap. “The king can’t die,” she said. “He’s immobile.”
“I wish you were right, Cherios,” I sobbed, “but I think you mean immortal.”
Lowly sat beside me wetting the ground with pig tears. Much-Afraid buried her head between her paws.
“We need to tell Baruch,” I heaved.
“I’ll go get him,” Lowly said. “He’s feeding on the oats in the cave.”
Worldly Crow cleared his throat and flapped his wings. “A vulture told me on the way over here the king didn’t die. He knows where he is.”
I stopped crying as Worldly Crow’s words sunk into my heart. “What do you mean, he hasn’t died? You said he died and was buried in the tomb of a rich man.”
“There are many stories circulating in Jerusalem. It’s hard to know what to believe—but the vulture insisted he knows all about the king. He said if you want to see him, for me to bring you.”
“A vulture would take me to the king?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“Vultures eat dead things. Why would I listen to a vulture?”
“Ca-ca. Suppose he’s right? He seemed to know what he was talking about. The vulture knows more about you than I do.”
“Like what?”
“He said you came from far away, that you have friends from the garden, and you should bring your friends, too.”
I bit my lip and studied Worldly Crow. Could I trust him?
I covered my face overwhelmed with grief. “What should I do?”
“We must go with you,” Cherios said. “The king might need help.” She wiggled her nose.
Much-Afraid agreed. “Wherever you go, we shall go with you. We’re friends forever, right?”
“Of course.” If the king were dead, though, did I even want to live? Suppose the vultures had set a trap? Did vultures eat young girls?
Baruch ran up to me, nostrils flared, breathing heavily. His eyes bulged, disturbed by the news from Worldly Crow. “Is it true, Miss Shale? No one would kill the king, would they?”
“Not unless he let them.” I remembered the day when the underling offered the king everything and he turned it all down. The angels came and brought him food.
I returned to the present. Why would anyone do such a thing? I jumped up and hugged Baruch. “Oh, Baruch, what shall we do? You’re wise, tell me what to do. Worldly Crow says a vulture wants to take us to the king—all of us.”
Tears coated Baruch’s extra-long eyelashes. “Then we must go. Friends never abandon friends in their need. He’s more than a friend. He’s our king. Yes, we must go. We must go right away.”
I glanced up at Worldly Crow. “Are you sure, Worldly Crow? The vulture doesn’t want to eat us, does he?”
“Vultures don’t kill things to eat. They eat what is already dead.”
“We shall go and see about the king. After all, he would do the same for us. We’ll go, all of us.” I became teary-eyed as I recalled the king—all the magnificent words he uttered and the way he looked at me. I couldn’t bear to think he might be dead.
I looked across the land at my father’s flocks and estate. “I must say good-bye to Mari, in case we don’t come back.”
“Suppose she tries to stop you?” Much-Afraid asked.
“I have a feeling I may not see her again and she’s been a good friend for the last year, since Daniel and my father left.” I glanced around. “Does anyone know where Judd is?”
“In the cave,” Lowly said.
“I wonder if he knows.” I risked a lot—possibly being locked up for good. “I can’t go back,” I whispered, “to say good-bye.”
“Why do you talk as if you aren’t coming back?” Baruch asked.
“Suppose it’s a trap?”
Worldly Crow impatiently strutted back and forth on the branch. “Are we going or not?”
“Yes. Let’s go.” I picked up Cherios and climbed on Baruch’s back.
Lowly looked forlorn, hanging his head. “I don’t think I can go. It would look strange to have a pig walking alongside the road outside of Gadara. Jews don’t like pigs. I shouldn’t tempt fate.”
I hopped off Baruch and approached Lowly. It wasn’t enough to pat him on the head. I gave him a big hug. “I love you, Lowly.” I remembered the first time he saw the king and how afraid he was of getting eaten. Thank goodness he didn’t drown in the lake. “You mind the stable, okay?”
“I’ll look for you every minute until your return. You will return, won't you?” A tear dropped from Lowly’s eye.
“I hope so, Lowly. If I don’t, you’ve seen the king. You know the king’s love. You won’t forget, will you?”
Lowly shook his head.
I got back on Baruch’s back. “Let’s go, Worldly Crow.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Betrayal
The journey was long. A journey always seems longer or harder when one fears death is the destination. Several hours passed, night fell, and the shadows followed me, even more than when we were banished from the garden. This darkness seeped into the land of the living from the underworl
d—where wolves howled and owls hooted and trees creaked. Earthquakes beneath the ground ruptured the foundations of the living, but if the worst event in history has already happened, the world can’t get any grimmer.
Nothing could fill the void within me. The stars looked like they might fall from the heavens and dark, shadowy figures emerged from behind rocks and trees and holes in the ground. Soon a vulture flew overhead leading Worldly Crow and the rest of us to a place I didn’t want to go.
“When will we arrive, Worldly Crow?” I asked.
“Not too much farther. We’re close to the city.”
Where was the king? A battle loomed. I’d remember the king’s words, his miracles, and his promises. I’d fill my mind with the stories he told on the mountaintop, though I anticipated a terrible ending for all of us.
Did the world kill the king or did the king die because he chose it? I was willing to die for my king, but fear seized my heart as I cradled Cherios in my arms.
Much-Afraid trotted beside us speaking soothing words. “We’re with you Shale. Don’t be afraid.”
A female voice spoke to me. I did not know who she was. She spoke about things I wasn’t sure I understood—haunting words: “The worst of the underlings deceived those who weren’t teachable as little children. The vile creatures will continue to deceive those who refuse to believe. The universe mourns. The tears shed in the garden haven’t dried.”
The voice continued. “The greatest miracle will soon be revealed. Face the secret hidden in your heart. Confess so you may be healed. You’ve been brought to a place of decision. Redemption is a gift only the king can give.”
I became very quiet as the female voice continued: “Remember all you’ve heard. Do not be deceived. Quote the words of the king as you remember them. He’ll tell you what to say. Tonight, all the inhabitants in the garden mourn. The eternal light has become sin, but only for a brief time. The underlings want to devour all who refuse to believe in the truth. Don’t compromise.” Then the voice ceased.
The Door Page 17