by Andrew Crown
He hesitated before answering. A half-truth will suffice, he reasoned, then I can be back on the road.
“I wish to rejoin my brother, Selig, in Jerusalem and look for work. There is no family or work left for me in Thella.”
Dismas did have a brother named Selig, but he did not know whether he was still in Jerusalem, or even alive for that matter. After their parents died, Selig had opted to stay in the south while Dismas was hired as a servant with a traveling caravan. That was sixteen years ago, and he had not seen his brother since.
Leah’s expression gradually melted from suspicion to concern. “Do you have a trade?”
This woman was full of questions and he silently fumed because of it. Now he had to lie.
“I worked for an olive grower, but the crops were destroyed in a terrible drought and my services were no longer needed.” Dismas sighed and glanced up at the rising sun. “As much as I enjoy entertaining your incessant questioning, I cannot delay any longer.”
“Delay? You have no mount and by the looks of things, limited provisions. Pardon me for saying so, but it doesn’t look like you are going anywhere.” Leah crossed her arms smugly. Her bemused faced shone brightly in the morning light as the traces of a smile began to appear at the corners of her mouth.
She really is beautiful, thought Dismas. Still, he would not let the stirrings in his groin waylay him.
“Your observation is unhelpful and unsolicited,” was all he could think to say.
Leah finally revealed a full smile, which softened Dismas’ resolve. Even with her reddened eyes, he’d never seen a smile that was as coaxing as hers. Her teeth seemed unnaturally white. It was disarming, and all he could do was smile back.
“Come dine with us—my father and I,” she said. “We don’t have much, but we can provide you a meal and a short rest. He may even be able to help you get a horse to get you to Jerusalem. Plus,” she added playfully, “You can explain to him about what happened to the jar and why I am coming back without water.”
Dismas realized that he wasn’t in a position to refuse a free meal. Surely a brief respite would reinvigorate him, he rationalized. With a smile that indicated his agreement, he followed Leah towards the houses near the water.
Chapter III
It was less than a one mile walk from the spot where Dismas had slept to Leah’s home. The two walked in silence, Dismas still groggily adjusting to this chance meeting while he trailed after her. The village was just beginning to stir. Men exited their homes, nets slung over their shoulders as they made their way to their boats.
Leah finally stopped in front of a single-story house made of gray mud. Leah entered first, followed by Dismas, who had to stoop down to avoid hitting his head on the top of the doorframe. The room was dark except for shafts of light that came through from the open front door and a window that looked out onto a tiny open courtyard that connected to three smaller rooms. A man could take several strides and travel from one end of the home to the other. This main room had a low table with three lounging pillows adjacent to it, along with jars similar to the one that Leah had carried tucked among the walls. Otherwise the décor was fairly utilitarian. It was clear to Dismas that these people did not share the same level of wealth and comfort as his former employer in the olive grove. They lived a simple life.
Taking a moment to let his eyes adjust, he was suddenly taken aback when he realized there was someone else in the room.
“I asked you to fetch water, and you come back with a stranger and no jar,” a voice boomed. “The only way that is a fair trade is if you have finally found a wealthy suitor for yourself, and judging by the holes and dirt on his clothes, that does not appear to be the case.”
In the low light, Dismas saw a man seated on the floor opposite the table mending a fishing net. He wore a wool cap that concealed a mass of curly silver hair; a long graying beard fell to the top of his chest. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he examined Dismas.
“Father, please do not be angry,” Leah said. “I dropped the jar when I accidentally tripped over this man by the sea. He was just lying there like a dead fish.”
“What kind of man knocks my daughter to the ground, breaks my property, and then dares to enter my home?” demanded the old man, rising to his feet. His trembling hands clenched into fists as he set his net down and began to move toward the doorway where Dismas stood.
Leah started to mumble a faint protest but Dismas matched the old man’s tone and temper.
“What sort of hospitality does this town provide where a traveler cannot sleep without being stomped on by some absentminded girl, marched to her father, and then forced to defend his actions? I slept on the ground because this forsaken village does not have an inn. I just explained myself to her and I am in no mood to repeat myself to you.” Dismas felt his own fists clench in fury.
The man appeared to be surprised that someone had challenged him and oddly, seemed to relax. He took a step back and unfurled his hands. Seeing this, Dismas became calmer. He then said softly, “Surely a village along the road to Jerusalem has its fair share of visitors. Are they all given such a welcome?”
The man settled onto the pillow at the table and rested his forehead in his hand. “I am sorry for your hardship, stranger. But you still have destroyed my jar and I want payment.”
Feeling another rush of anger at the prospect of being unfairly separated from the stolen money he carried, Dismas snapped, “Your clumsy daughter destroyed your jar, so you should look to her for compensation.”
At this, Leah’s mouth fell agape for a brief moment before she recovered, hissing, “You rude and ungrateful…”
“Silence!” roared the old man, his face once more turning red as he sat up straight. “Young man, you will pay me for my jar and the insult, or I will beat you with a reed. If you think I am too old, I gladly welcome the opportunity to prove that I still have my strength and vitality.” He got up and walked over to one of the walls where a reed rod rested against the clay. “I keep this for protection from people like you.”
A dark thought dawned on Dismas. Any disturbance could alert the Romans. It would be stupid for a fugitive to draw unnecessary attention. He needed to rid himself of this family and resume his journey without complication. Fighting with this old man would only bring trouble.
With a long exhale, Dismas swallowed his pride and buried his anger. “Forgive me, sir. I can give you ten silver pieces which I estimate to be more than adequate for the jar…and the insult.” He turned to Leah, who was staring at him with rage contorting the pleasant curvature of her face. If she accepted the apology, her expression did not reveal it.
The older man considered this for a moment. “It is settled.”
“I am Asher,” he added as Dismas removed the coins from his sack and set them on the low table.
“Dismas,” the younger man muttered as he reattached the sack to his rope belt. As soon as the sack was secure he realized that he should have considered giving a fake name to these strangers. He was too tired and agitated by his verbal exchange to be thinking clearly.
Asher studied Dismas. To the older man, this traveler appeared destitute; his robe was badly worn and starting to fray around the edges. His sandals, while still held together, looked as if they had carried him many miles. Yet this man overpaid after his initial outburst and did so quickly to settle his debt. Very strange.
Dismas was eyeing the door of the house when Asher said, “We have made amends. Please stay and eat with us.”
At this, Leah’s eyebrows raised in surprise and Dismas fidgeted nervously. They had thought Leah’s original offer of a meal was lost in the argument. He quickly replied, “I must hurry to Jerusalem and meet my brother. The road is long.” Even the prospect of a free meal was not enough to keep company with this man after their heated exchange.
“You cannot travel without sustenance. Your brother will still be there I imagine, if you are delayed a few hours,” Asher said calmly. Leah made
a snort of protest, but her father continued, “You can view this as an opportunity to make amends with my daughter. Evidently, she is not as forgiving as I.”
Dismas shifted his weight and glanced out the front window. Out of excuses, he replied, “Thank you for your generosity.”
Asher signaled to Leah to begin preparing food as Dismas sank onto the pillow at the table opposite the old man.
“I’d offer you water, but as you know we do not have any, and unless you can turn wine into water…you’ll have settle for what we have.” Asher produced a pitcher of red wine that he poured into two shallow cups.
In addition to the wine, the meal consisted of fish, bread, dates, and olive oil. The three of them ate almost silently, their hunger taking precedence over the need for communication. Dismas fidgeted as he dipped his bread into the olive oil, instinctively stealing glances out the window when his hosts’ heads were bowed low over their plates. How long could he risk staying?
Asher eventually broke the silence. “Are you looking for work, or are you running from something?”
This caught Dismas off guard, and his pulse quickened. “Running? No, not at all. That’s ridiculous.”
Asher wrinkled his brow and counted on his fingers. “You have no mount, no business here, and you keep looking out the window as if you need to run to or from something. Which one is it?”
Dismas didn’t know what to say.
The old man pressed on. “Are you a fugitive from the Romans?” Asher inquired, leaning forward. The tone of his voice was serious.
“I’m looking for work,” Dismas blurted out. “I admit I do not care for the Romans, but they know nothing of me, and I wish to keep it that way.”
“Father,” Leah chimed in, knowing the intentions behind his questions, “Dismas told me he worked picking olives in Thella. He cannot be of help to you on your boat. He does not have the skills.”
“Nonsense!” Asher replied. “Anyone can learn how to fish with proper instruction, or rather…my instruction.” He chuckled to himself.
Leah put her cup down and looked at Dismas. “My father has been looking for help on his fishing boat for a long time. But as I said, you wouldn’t know what to do.”
“And God brought you to me to fulfill that purpose!” Asher said, pretending not to hear his daughter’s last comment. “Most young men in this town either work for their fathers or seek their fortunes in Jerusalem. A strong back that is pledged to no one is rare indeed.”
“I don’t think God had anything to do with my horse dying and me coming here,” grumbled Dismas. “Besides, my brother Selig is expecting me in Jerusalem.”
“Do not blaspheme the Lord!” bellowed Asher. Dismas thought he caught a quick eye roll from Leah.
Asher continued, “I’m asking for your help for a few days. You can earn some money from the fish we catch, and then you can buy a horse to get you to Jerusalem. I promise I will not ask you any further questions.”
Dismas had an uncomfortable sensation that the man might have surmised more about his situation than he let on, but he was caught in a lie and he now realized had to play the part. “Alright,” he said with a shrug, “I’ll learn how to fish.”
Asher beamed and shouted his praise while practically leaping out of the room to gather supplies for the boat. Leah said nothing for a while. She was still uneasy with the prospect of being in close proximity with this rude stranger for an extended period of time. Since Dismas walked into the home, she had regretted her initial invitation to him.
But the sight of her father’s happiness softened her heart. She hadn’t seen him like this for a long time. She commented, “I think this might be good for us. After my mother died, he hasn’t had much interaction with people outside of myself and his regular customers. I’m sure he will enjoy having someone to pass the time with.” There was a barely perceptible upward curl at the corners of her lips. “And maybe he’ll teach you some manners so you’re not so intolerable to be around.”
Dismas had never been spoken to this way, let alone by a woman, but something about her graceful disposition kept him from bursting into his usual rage. His eyes followed Leah as she too left the room. She had such elegant mannerisms, like those of a dancer. Dismas tilted his head to continue to hold her in his line of sight for as long as possible before she disappeared into the small courtyard.
Dismas began to rationalize his situation in his head. Maybe there would be benefits to staying? He could lay low for a while, out of the way. Surely his old master and the Romans wouldn’t think to look for him at the home of a fisherman. He could keep his eyes peeled for another horse to buy or more likely, steal. Plus, there was Leah. He had very little contact with women, but something inside of him told him that Leah was different from the few that he had met. She was certainly younger and more attractive than the sun-weathered servants who brought food out to the field laborers at the olive grove.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with Asher repairing his net, Leah clearing space for their new resident, and Dismas making several trips to and from the freshwater sea, each time returning with a heavy, sloshing jar of water. By about his fourth trip, he considered himself more than atoned for his past transgressions.
Dismas was given a small room on the opposite side of the courtyard from the main room. It was really only a lightly used storage room, but it served him well. Upon entering, he shook out the reed mat that Leah had provided and spread it across the clay brick floor. There was one small window from which he could see the Sea of Galilee with its many boats anchored along the shore, like bobbing ducks waiting to be awoken by their masters in the morning.
As the last rays of light shimmered off the water’s surface, Dismas thought of the next day. Learning how to fish would be preferable to working alongside the other sweaty laborers in the olive grove, filling his basket to the brim with load after load for days on end, with only the meager pay that elevated him above a slave. The refreshing water and cool breeze would be soothing, he assured himself. Yes, this sleepy fishing village would be the perfect place to wait out any vengeful search parties sent by his former employer.
Dismas took much pleasure in visualizing the look of despair on his taskmaster’s face when he discovered that Dismas had absconded with money and a horse, even though that horse proved to be not much an asset. He was almost doing him a favor by taking it away, Dismas justified silently. The taskmaster, voice hoarse and raspy from screaming at the laborers, likely had to interrupt the owner of the estate, a fat man who sat in his counting room all day with his wine and money and occasionally his wife, although she was secondary to his first two loves. Perhaps the taskmaster got whipped for allowing Dismas’ flight, he thought gleefully.
Dismas adjusted his body position on his mat as a sliver of moonlight cast shadows through the window and thought about what would happen next. When alerted of his theft, the local Roman guard would dutifully nod as he feigned interest in the pursuit because after all, the petty crimes of the Jews were of minimal concern to the Romans. As long as there was no violence or political unrest, there was no urgency. The Roman soldier would say that he would keep his eyes peeled and would likely forget about the whole interaction within the hour and thus, the situation would be resolved.
Further confident of his safety and anonymity, Dismas drifted into a dream-filled sleep where he pursued a dark-haired young woman who seemed just out of reach.
*
Dismas rose just before dawn and made his way across the courtyard to the main room, feeling the nip of the early morning chill. Leah was making sesame cakes. Seeing no sign of Asher, Dismas asked if they were still going out that day.
“Oh, yes. I’m sure he’s putting the finishing touches on his net,” Leah said, placing a cake in front of him. “There is a touch of honey in the bread, just like my mother used to make.”
Dismas watched Leah wipe her hands, messy after cooking and felt guilty. “Leah. I want to apologize for my behavior y
esterday. I said some things that I shouldn’t have. I have a quick temper and it causes me to do things that I later regret.”
She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Dismas. I’m glad that there are some redeemable qualities to you, even if they take a while to appear. Now eat your cake.”
Relieved that his apology was accepted, Dismas decided to ask a question that had been on his mind since he arrived. “Do you mind me asking what happened to your mother? You mentioned she passed away.” He bit into the sweet sesame cake, feeling the honey ooze across his tongue. “This is delicious, by the way. I have never had anything like it.” For a man who was used to bread and olives deemed unfit for the market, this food was nothing less than divine.
Leah sat across from him and took small bites of her own cake. “Thank you. No, I don’t mind. My mother was afflicted with a terrible sickness and passed three years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dismas swallowed as he wiped his mouth.
“Yes, it was awful. It started with a small cough. Over the next few days it got worse and she began to spit up blood. Soon after she was bedridden with horrible black boils on her body that caused her excruciating pain. I wish there had been some way to alleviate her suffering. But beyond giving her some herbs and roots, there was nothing we could do other than pray. A couple weeks after the sickness started, she was dead. It was over so quickly,” Leah finished with a murmur and a distant look in her eyes.
Dismas sat in silence while Leah remained pensive. “I guess God wanted to take her from us.”
Dismas found it curious that she referred to God so casually with such a lack of reverence, though he didn’t have a strong belief either. He thought that God was something for Jewish elders to use to keep people going to the temple and to generate gold for the Pharisees. He also knew that he should keep his feelings about religion private.
