by Summer Lee
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. The fleece itself is in the hands of a non-believer. That makes it useless. It’s just another fleece without the touch of faith.”
“But Aharon is an Antiquarian?” Sam replied.
She forced a smile. “That doesn’t make him a man of faith, any more than me, being related to Achava, makes me a woman of faith. The fleece maps a mystery under the symbol, but only in the hands of the faithful.”
“A map?” Sam realized almost everything then. “A map that leads to the Crown of Christ. You guys never wanted Gideon’s fleece in the first place, did you?”
“No, Sam. I doubt if it still exists.”
“You and Aharon searched for that fleece to obtain a treasure map to guide you to the crown of thorns that Christ wore.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Am I right?”
“Yes, Sam.” Anthea acted like their time was limited inside the cavern, so she walked faster, dragging Sam along. “I need you to be with me on this. If I don’t feel that I have you with me, then...”
Sam frowned. “Then you leave me here to die.”
Anthea nodded. “Yeah.”
Sam shook his head. “Nice. Well, let me tell you something! If I don’t come with you, you’re going to have a heck of a time trying to find someone of faith that will help you! You know darn well that Aharon is going to make sure you can’t find anyone of faith so easily, so he can find the original crown of thorns placed on the head of Christ before you do.”
Anthea nodded in agreement again. “I know, Sam. It looks like we need each other.”
Sam looked at her in disgust. He couldn’t believe that he was ever attracted to her. He knew it was because he was on the rebound. The more he thought about it, the more he realized the truth. He did not need an evil woman in his life.
Anthea then walked over to the first rock pillar and kicked it with all her might. She swung around and punched it.
Let her be, he told himself. She’ll always do crazy things.
***
He never stopped loving Achava and he would never stop. Now he needed to find her. He needed to help her through whatever Anthea had done to her. He could not even imagine what she was going through now.
The ceiling was coming off in chunks. He moved just before one crashed where he stood.
“Hey Anthea. Do you know what I am now thinking?”
“What?”
“Why do I need you?”
“Well, one reason is,” Anthea said, as she lost all patience, “because you want Achava, and I attacked her with my Methuselah tattoo. It’s aging her at a rapid rate right now. If you help me out of this maze, I swear I will reverse the process and you’ll have your woman back to you, as good as new.”
“And if I don’t help you?” he asked, already knowing part of the answer.
More of the ceiling was falling apart in bigger chunks, as Anthea grabbed his hand again. She was ready to jump in the river with him, if he answered the way she wanted. “I need your answer, now! If you don’t help me, not only do I leave you here to die, but I will never reverse the process on my sister. She will die as well.”
“You wouldn’t do that to your own flesh and blood!” he said in a firm voice.
“Watch me.”
Chapter the Twenty-first
FIRST THINGS FIRST, THOUGHT ACHAVA.
So she prayed, “I have dedicated my life and soul to You, my Lord. Guide me to overcome these feelings I have against Anthea, so that I may be able to continue to serve You. Set me free from her spell. I am of no use to anyone in this form, so heal me. I can never thank You enough for all that You have taught me. Every day of my life, You have looked after me, fed me and forgave me. Thank You for all You have done for me and my family. I also lift up Sam to You, so that he will know and accept You in his life. If my life is over now, take me home to live in heaven with You. Your will be done, my glorious Father. Amen.”
Her thoughts were on Gideon and the weapons God had him use to fight Midian: a trumpet, a clay jar and a light. It made her giggle. She loved that God was so creative. The clay jar broken to let the light out. I think that is what is happening to me. My body is just a clay jar being broken, so that the light of Jesus can shine through.
She swam across the water to get away from Anthea. Sitting on the river bank, she contemplated her life thus far. She had an incredibly good mother to take care of her during her early childhood. Where else could she have gotten rewards in hugs and kisses.
Surely, the wrinkled skin would not last forever. At best, my beauty will return. At worst, I’d go live with my mother.
Looking across the water, for a brief moment, she thought she saw Sam. She did not dare call out his name, and take a chance on him seeing her in this condition.
The End
To be continued in:
The Crown of Christ
Return to the Table of Contents
THE CROWN OF CHRIST
by
SUMMER LEE
A Guardians Adventure #4
The Crown of Christ
Published by Summer Lee
Copyright © 2014 by Summer Lee
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
To J.R. Rain.
The Crown of Christ
Chapter the First
NO ONE NOTICED the elderly woman sitting on the mount, underneath the Holy Sepulcher Church in Jerusalem. To the tourists and passers-by, she might be a beggar, if they thought about her at all.
She dressed like a younger woman. Maybe even a warrior.
The place called Golgotha was under her feet. Maybe some people were skeptical as to whether that location was the precise place where Jesus Christ was crucified. Those were the ones who didn’t believe in Him. They chose to look at the area for historical significance only. Believer or not, they flashed away with their cameras, not realizing the truth. The truth that made the old woman shed tear after tear, while she touched the ground.
To some it was called the skull or skull head. For the old woman, it meant more to her than even the Garden of Gethsemane. She knew the place personally as Calvary.
As her bones aged by the minute, she felt that she had betrayed the one who sent her. The past several months had left her feeling sorry for herself. The doubt consumed her as she raised her wrinkled face to the heavens, in hopes of attracting the attention of her Father—her Heavenly Father. She didn’t care if people heard her prayer, as long as God heard it.
“Father. It is I. Your humble servant. I have learned a lot more in the recent months than I believe I have learned in many years. I also do not believe that my mission is over. In spite of my appearance, it is still me. My soul has not changed. As long as I am in the flesh, I realize I will make mistakes. I know now that is nothing to be ashamed of.
I ask You not to hear my words, but to listen to my heart. I speak from my heart to You now. I need a miracle now. I have not asked for forgiveness yet, because I did not feel I deserved it, until now.”
She stopped to cough. Her lungs burned, as she caught the eye of a Jewish woman who obviously disregarded the Tzniut way of dressing. She wore a short skirt and a black lace top with lace surrounding the cuff. Her knee high boots made her rebellion against Jewish law complete, against the way women were supposed to dress. She had short, dark hair and some piercings in her nose. Most of the people synonymous with Israel would look the other way and say a silent prayer for her soul.
The old woman felt her penetrating glare. She knew there was something about her that drew the young woman’s attention. She watched as she slowly wandered closer, with her hands behind her back. Her dark eyes could not be peeled away.
Oblivious to her new fan, the old woman continued to pray. “I ask for one chance. One of many that I will return to those whom
I have wronged. I will make amends with the man who I need, more than he needs me. It is at my lowest point, that I now see my path, Lord. My strength is renewed and my faith is unwavering. If this is my destiny, then I gladly accept it. Help me not to ever question Your motives again. The most important missions await, with each new clue bringing me closer to the next. It is this spot that pulls at my heart and soul. I have been led here, but at the same time… not here. I don’t understand it myself, Heavenly Father. I again, ask for Your guidance. As I ask for grace, I will wait as long as this old body can handle it. I pray these things, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
The old woman lowered her head and cried uncontrollably.
“Hey there.” The voice came from behind the old woman.
She turned to see the Jewish woman standing next to her. “Hello, sweet girl. I am afraid I have nothing to offer you.”
“No, grandma. I don’t think you do either. I believe that I may have something for you. You’re not really this old. Are you? Your body is screaming at least 90, but I see something different in your soul.”
The old woman rose slowly to her feet and tried her best to smile. “Do I… know you? You have been sent from God? Right?”
“I don’t know, grandma. God and I have had our differences lately, but I believe I can help you. It might earn me enough brownie points to get back in His good graces.”
***
The older woman narrowed her eyes as she tried to recognize the young rebel. She knew that she had seen her somewhere before, but her mind was aging as rapidly as her body. She peered deep into the darkness of her eyes. She saw a woman from the past. A seducer of men and a betrayer of one of Jesus’ greatest allies.
“I know you know who I am, granny. We don’t want everyone to know though. Just call me Khassima and we’ll get along great. Tell me something. Can you walk about 100 yards?”
The old woman took in a deep breath, which was just as hard as it was to move at that point. “I…will try. If it is God’s will.”
She rose slowly and clasped Khassima’s arm. After scooting along for several moments with Khassima guiding her, the elder lady managed to scoot down toward an alley, situated between two large buildings. There was only about three feet of space between the buildings. Khassima knocked once, then twice, then once more, on an old wooden door that appeared to lead to some sort of shop.
A middle aged Israeli man opened the door and looked around to make sure the two women had not been followed. “What are you doing, Khassima? Bringing a stranger to me!”
“Silence!” Khassima commanded. “This is not a mere person. She is a ticket. A ticket to greater things. For me!”
“Yes, for you. Always for you,” he replied, as he ushered the women into the corridor and then closed and locked the outside door.
Walking into the living room, Khassima closed that door as well. Pulling down all the shades in the room, she rubbed her hands together. “Get me my tools! This one is the unfortunate victim of Orphic Tattooing.” She looked at the old woman, as if she had twenty dollar bills hanging out of her mouth. “Don’t worry, whoever you are. You will be fine soon. Khassima will take care of you.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Then maybe, I will be forgiven as well. Yes?”
The Israeli man said, “Maybe, Khassima.”
The middle aged man went to another room and then rushed back to Khassima, carrying a black bag. It looked to be extremely old. She took out a rolled up black cloth and unrolled it on a nearby table. All kinds of ancient needles and inks appeared before the old woman’s eyes. “I will cure you now and God will release me. Pray for me, when you get better. Yes?”
The old woman’s eyes filled with tears as she clasped her hands together. “You are the answer to my prayers. God has moved you to help me.”
Khassima held out her open palm, inviting the aged woman to sit down on an antique wooden chair. She sat down on the uncomfortable seat and put her feet up. Khassima knelt down on a cushioned stool beside her. “In all of the years I’ve been on this earth, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a better chance at redemption than I do right now. Pray for me, grandma. I have the power to restore you to your rightful visage. I also believe that I will get my spiritual release as well.”
“Be careful, Khassima. It could just be the beginning of a long friendship,” said the Israeli man.
Khassima grimaced. “Friends, I don’t need.”
“Just help me, dear.”
“I’ve been here too long not to.” She held up her portfolio of tattoos she had previously done. “I will not only restore you to your former self, but I will make sure this can’t be done to you again.”
There is a picture the old woman recognized. The woman smiled and pointed to a picture, while her eyes start to water. “I used to look like that. I would like that one, please. I have no money on me, though.”
Khassima smiled as the old woman teared up. “Not a problem, grandma. Let’s just say it’s part of my community service. You picked a magical one. How did you know that one has the power to prevent your sudden aging from ever happening again?”
“If you know the Bible stories, then you know that one symbolizes beautiful Sarah, who was gorgeous at the age of ninety. I do believe that you are a Godsend, Khassima.”
Khassima laughed. “My relationship with God is an interesting story. Maybe someday when you have more time, I can tell you all about it. I have to walk you through it step by step. There was all kinds of sex and violence involved in my young life. Ha ha!”
The old woman smiled, as if she was talking with her granddaughter. “Oh, Khassima. We have forgiveness for the asking and repenting. My guess is that you know the Bible better than a lot of people.” She narrowed her eyes, as Khassima became more recognizable. “I have a feeling that you and I have crossed paths before, and that we will cross paths again.”
“That’s pretty ominous,” Khassima replied, obviously not trying to hide her apprehension. “Don’t make me regret giving you this potable injection for free, lady. I don’t spook easily, but I have to say that thought gives me the creeps.”
“The creeps?” The elderly woman laughed. Although she strained to do the smallest thing with each passing moment, she enjoyed the feeling that the laughter gave her. It was a release for her, after everything that she had gone through. “My apologies. I did not mean to give you the creeps. Perhaps, as time goes on, I can give you friendship instead.”
Khassima eyed her suspiciously. “I may be an experienced soul, but I’m not a trusting one. I need to do penance for what I did in my past, but I seriously doubt that being pals with you is part of those penances. No offense, but I really don’t think you have a lot of time left, unless I get the tattoo figure on you soon. Yes? Where do you want it?”
The woman stared into the full length mirror leaning against the wall by Khassima’s tattoo materials. She had aged at least ten years in the short time since she met her new ally. She leaned closer and saw her thinning silver hair lying across her shoulders. She was more than frail, and her joints ached. Once she sat down, she didn’t think she would be able to get back up again.
She used her eyes to plead with the tattooist to do whatever it was she was going to do. And fast. “Place it wherever there is skin, I assume.” She ran her hand down her wrinkled and thin arm. She could see the outline of her bones. It became harder for her to breathe, as she clutched her chest.
“Look at her. She will have a heart attack and die in my home!” The Israeli man started to pace the floor and was becoming belligerent. “If she dies, you must clean up the mess, Khassima! I will not deal with this! I will not and cannot!”
Khassima gritted her teeth and got up in his face. Touching the tip of his nose, she said, “Don’t mess with my customer! I believe this tattoo has been sanctioned by the Creator and I’m not letting anyone stop me from my brownie points that I’m earning! Understand, Capisce?”
The man grabbed his head, pulling his o
wn hair and mumbling incessantly; then he ran out of the room.
Khassima shook her head. “Get comfortable, grandma, and don’t worry about him. I should have never let him take me in. When you are desperate and need a break, you’ll live just about anywhere. Know what I mean?”
The old woman gasped, as each breath was harder for her to take in. “Please… hurry.” She started to tremble. She could not even remember her own name.
Khassima nodded, as she leaned the woman’s head back and forward, to see where a good spot for the tattoo would be. She had trouble finding a good place, considering that the woman had little skin left to hold a tattoo. “Darn!” She looked up toward heaven and gripped her tattooing tools with all of her might. “You sent her to me. I know I have to do this. You really need to show me where I can place this that won’t finish her off.” She rolled her eyes. “I… need… you.”
She let out a sigh of relief, as all of a sudden, she saw the perfect spot to inject the enamoring tattoo on the old woman. She reluctantly looked up toward the ceiling and smiled. “Thank you.”
Chapter the Second
THE OLD WOMAN tensed up and groaned. She prayed the procedure would work.
First, the area was scrubbed with soap and water. Then, using alcohol, Khassima cleaned off the area completely. Khassima took in a deep breath and turned on the machine. She picked up the bar of needles that were lined up in a flat row. That made it faster, because it covered more space in a single pass than a round, liner needle would. The old woman passed out and Khassima placed an oxygen mask on her face.
“See? That’s not so bad.”
***
The woman’s eyes blinked, as consciousness came back to her. She looked around in disbelief. “Am I dead?” She then saw Khassima leaning back against the far wall, in a rickety chair that looked like it wasn’t built to take that kind of abuse. If only I could remember my name.
