no man of mineoffering dignity to a heathen god. The _Schrift_ orders us to cut downthe groves of the alien gods, to smash their false images; not to bowbefore them. Will you make a golden calf here, as did your namesakeAaron of Egypt, for whose sin the Children of Israel were plagued?"
"Woman, I'll not have you preach to me like a servant of the Book,"Aaron said. "It is not for you to cite Scripture." He stared through thewindow. "What does the Mother want of me?"
"As you shout, do not forget that I am a mother, too," Martha said. Shedabbed a finger at her eye.
"_Fagep mir_, Liebling," Aaron said. He walked behind the chair wherehis wife sat. Tenderly, he kneaded the muscles at the back of her neck."I am trying to get inside Musa's head, and Kazunzumi's; I am trying tosee their world through their eyes. It is not an easy thing to do,Martha. Though I lived for a spell among the 'English,' my head is stillHouse-Amish; a fat, Dutch cheese."
"It is a good head," Martha said, relaxing under his massage, "and ifthere be cheese-heads hereabouts, it's these blackfolk that wear them,and not my man."
"If I knew what the die-hinker our neighbors mean by their Mother-talk,it might be I could see myself through Murnan eyes, as I can hear a bitwith Hausa ears," Aaron said. "_Iss sell nix so_, Martha?"
"We should have stood at home, and thought with our own good heads," shesaid.
"Let me think," Aaron said. "If I were to strike you, wife," he mused,"it could do you great hurt, and harm our unborn child, _Nee?_"
"Aaron!" Martha scooted out from under her husbands kneading hands.
"_Druuvel dich net!_" he said. "I am only thinking. These blackfolk now,these neighbors who were before last night our friends, speak of Lightas our bishop at home speaks of Grace. To have it is to have all, to beone with the congregation. If I can find this Light, we and the Sarkiand his people can again be friends." Aaron sat down. "I must learn whatI have done wrong," he said.
* * * * *
"Other than drink a glass of cider now and then, and make worldly musicwith a guitar, you've done no wrong," Martha said stubbornly. "You're agood man."
"In the Old Order, I am a good man, so long as no _Diener_ makes troubleover a bit of singing or cider," Aaron said. "As a guest on Murna, Ihave done some deed that has hurt this Mother-god, whom our neighborshold dear."
"Heathenish superstition!"
"Martha, love, I am older than you, and a man," Aaron said. "Give meroom to think! If the goddess-Mother is heathen as Baal, it matters not;these folk who worship her hold our future in their hands. Besides, weowe them the courtesy not to dance in their churches nor to laugh attheir prayers; even the 'English' have more grace than that." Aaronpondered. "Something in the springtime is the Murnan Mother's gift, hergreatest gift. What?"
"Blaspheme not," Martha said. "Remember Him who _causeth the grass togrow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bringforth food out of the earth_."
"Wife, is the True God less, if these people call Him Mother?" Aarondemanded.
"We are too far from home," the woman sighed. "Such heavy talk iswearisome; it is for bishops to discourse so, not ordinary folk likeus."
"If I can't find the light," Aaron said, "this farm we live on, andhoped to leave to our children, isn't worth the water in a dish ofsoup." He slapped his hands together and stood to pace. "Martha, hear meout," he said. "If a woman be with child, and a man takes her with lustand against her will, is not that man accursed?"
"Aaron!" she said. "_Haagott_, such wicked talk you make!"
"Seen with Murnan eyes, have I not done just such a cursed thing?" Aarondemanded. "The Mother-god of this world is _mit Kinndt_, fat with thebounty of springtime. So tender is the swollen belly of the earth thatthe people here, simple folk with no more subtle God, strip the ironfrom the hoofs of their horses not to bruise her. They bare their feetin her honor, treat her with the tenderness I treat my beloved Martha.And to this Goddess, swollen earth, I took the plow! Martha, we arefortunate indeed that our neighbors are gentle people, or I would behanged now, or stoned to death like the wicked in the old days. _Ich hotiere Gotterin awgepockt_: I raped their Goddess!"
* * * * *
Martha burst into tears. When Aaron stepped forward to comfort her, shestruck his chest with her balled fists. "Stoltz, I wed you despite yourbeer-drinking from cans at the Singing, though you play a worldly guitarand sing the English songs, though people told me you drove your gayUncle Amos' black-bumpered Ford before you membered to the district;still, house-Amish pure Old Order though my people are, I married you,from love and youngness and girlish ignorance. But I do not care, evenin this wilderness you've brought us to in that big English ship, tohear such vileness spoke out boldly. Leave me alone."
"I'll not."
"You'd best," she said. "I'm sore offended in the lad I'm wifed to."
"Love, _Ich bin sorry_," Aaron said. "The Book, though, says just whatour neighbors told me: Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall setyou free. I have found the truth, the truth of our dark-skinned friends.I did not want to wound the ears of _da Oppel fuun mein Awk_,apple-of-mine-eye sweet Martha; but I must speak out the truth."
"It is not good enough," Martha sobbed, "that you accept thisbrown-skinned, jewel-bedizzened woman-god; but you must make love toher; and I, wed to you by the Book, nine months gone with _Kinndt_, amto make no fuss."
"I loved the Mother-god with the plow, and accidentally," Aaronbellowed. "_Haagott!_ woman; have you no funny?"
"I will birth our child in my lap from laughing," Martha said, weeping."Aaron, do what you will. I can hardly walk home to my Mem to bear a sonin my girlhood bedroom. We are like _Awduum uuu Ayf_, like you said; butthe serpent in this Eden pleases me not."
"When I spoke of colts, and the borning of them," Aaron said, "I forgotme that mares are more sensible than human women. Martha, _liebe_Martha, you wed a man when you married me. All your vapors are naughtagainst my having seen the light. If to stay here, on this land alreadywatered with my hard sweat, I had to slaughter cattle in sacrifice tothe Mother, I'd pick up the knife gladly, and feel it no blasphemyagainst our God."
"Aaron Stoltz," Martha said, "I forbid you to lend honor to this god!"
Aaron sat. He unlaced his shoes and tugged them off. "Woman," he askedsoftly, "you forbid me? Martha, for all the love I bear you, there isone rule of our folk that's as holy as worship; and that's that the manis master in his house." He pulled off his black stockings and stood,barefoot, with callouses won on the black earth of his father's farm;dressed otherwise meetly as a deacon. "I will walk to Datura on my nakedfeet to show our friends I know my wrong-doing, that I have hurt thebelly of the pregnant earth. I will tell Sarki Kazunzumi that I haveseen his light; that my horses will be unshod as I am, that the Motherwill not feel my plow again until the grasses spring, when her time willbe accomplished."
Martha crossed her hands about her middle. "Ach, Stoltz," she said. "Our_Buu iss reddi far geh_, I think. Today will be his birthday. Don't letyour tenderness to the earth keep you from walking swiftly to Datura;and when you return, come in a wagon with the Sarki's ladies, whounderstand midwifery. I think they will find work here."
"I will hurry, Mother," Aaron promised.
The End.
Blind Man's Lantern Page 8
