Home > Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt(44)

Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt(44)
Author: Anne Rice

I moved back, away from him.

"Don't lay your hands on me," I said. I was not angry or excited, but I wanted him to understand. "Never, never lay your hands on me."

"Do you know what's happening in Jerusalem?" he asked. He was so angry that his face was red with it, and his eyes getting bigger and bigger.

I didn't answer him.

"Let me show you, angel child!" he said.

"Don't put yourself to the trouble," I said.

Before us, instead of the blue sea, I saw suddenly the great courtyard of the Temple. I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to think of the men fighting as they'd been when I was there. But this was far worse.

On top of the colonnades archers were shooting arrows down at the Roman soldiers, and others threw stones, and all manner of fighting went on until flames leapt out beneath the columns, flames, dread and terrible flames leaping up and catching the Jews unawares as the colonnades filled with fire, and the gold work on the outside of these places began to burn, and bodies fell down into the fire, and people screamed and cried for the Lord to save them.

The whole courtyard was girded with fire, yet some of the Jews threw down their armor and ran into the fire, roaring and hollering, and some Romans ran in where they could, and other Romans came out with arms loaded with treasure. Temple treasure, sacred treasure, treasure of the Lord. The screams of the suffering people were more than I could stand.

"Lord in Heaven, have mercy on them," I cried. I was so afraid. I was shivering. I was shaking. All my fear came back to me and was worse than it had ever been. One fire after another filled my mind, as though each fire were ignited from the one before it until the blaze reached to the stars. Out of the depths, I cry unto thee, O Lord.

"Is that all you can do?" this strange creature asked me. He stood very close to me, handsome in his rich clothing, his blue eyes full of anger even though he smiled.

I put my hands to my face. I wouldn't look. I heard his voice in my ear:

"I'm watching you, angel child!" he said. "I'm waiting to see what you mean to do. So go on: walk like a child, eat like a child, play like a child, work like a child. But I'm watching. And I may not know the future, no, but I know this: your mother's a whore, your father's a liar, and the floors of your house are dirt. Your cause is lost, I know it's lost, it's lost every day and every hour, and you know it is. You think your little miracles will help these foolish people? I tell you, chaos rules. And I am its Prince."

I looked at him. I knew that if I wanted to, I could answer him. The words would come easily and they would tell me things I didn't know now; they would draw this knowledge out of my mind, as surely as the sound would come out of my mouth. Everything would be there before me, all the answers, all the whole span of Time. But no, it wasn't to happen. No, not this way or any other way. I said nothing. His misery hurt me. His darkening face hurt me. His fury hurt me.

I woke up without a sound. I lay in the dark room, covered in sweat and thirsting.

The lamp was the only light. It seemed everywhere there were moans. I didn't know where I was, this room, this place - and my head ached. It hurt so badly I couldn't bear it. My mother was near but with someone else.

Cleopas was praying in a whisper. I could hear a strange voice, a woman's voice. "If this goes on like this, you don't want her to come back..."

I closed my eyes. I dreamed. I saw the fields of wheat around Nazareth. I saw the flowering almond trees that we'd passed when we first came into the land. I saw the villages of white houses tumbling over the hills. Thin curling leaves flying in the gentle gusts of the wind. I dreamed of water. That creature wanted to come again, but I wouldn't let him come. No, not the world of palaces and ships, no. "Stop," I said. "I will not."

My mother said, "You're dreaming, I'm holding you. You're safe." Safe.

It was days and nights before I came to myself. I found that out afterwards.

And even then I slept most of the time. Only the wailing woke me, the wailing and the crying, and I knew then that someone had died.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my mother feeding Little Symeon who was under the covers, and propped against a blanket roll. Little Salome slept nearby, her face very damp. But she wasn't really too sick anymore.

My mother looked at me and smiled. But her face was white and sad, and she'd been crying, and I knew it, and I knew that one of the people moaning and crying in the far room was Cleopas. I heard it, that broken grown man crying that I'd seen and heard in the dream.

"Tell me!" I whispered. The fear came, a grip on my throat.

"The children are better," she said. "Don't you remember? I told you all this last night."

"No, I want to know who?"

She wouldn't answer me.

"Is it Aunt Mary?" I asked. I turned to look. Aunt Mary had been lying right next to me and she was gone.

My mother closed her eyes and groaned. I turned towards her and put my hand on her knee, but I don't think she felt it through her robe. She rocked back and forth.

When next I woke up, it was the funeral feast that was happening. It must have been. I could hear the music of flutes that cut the air like wooden knives.

Joseph was with me and he made me drink some soup. Little Salome was sitting straight up next to me, and she said with very wide eyes,

"Did you know my mother is dead?"

"I'm sorry for it," I said.

"And the baby too is dead because the baby was inside her."

"I'm sorry for it," I said.

"They already buried her. They put her in the cave."

I didn't say anything.

My aunts came in, Salome and Esther, and they made Little Salome drink soup and lie down. Little Salome wouldn't stop asking about her mother. "Was she covered up?" she asked. "Did she look white?"

They told her to be quiet.

"Did she cry when she died?"

I slept.

When I woke up, the room was still full of children sleeping, and my older cousins were there, sick, too.

It wasn't until the next morning that I got up.

At first I thought no one was awake in the house.

I went out into the courtyard.

The air was warm, and the leaves on the fig tree were big. There were white flowers all over the vines, and the sky was very blue yet full of clean clouds that didn't mean rain.

I was so hungry I could have eaten anything. I'd never been so hungry ever that I knew.

There were voices coming from one of the rooms that Cleopas and his family used on the other side of the court. I went in and saw my mother and my uncle seated there on the floor, talking together, before a meal of bread and sauce. The window had only a thin veil. The light fell on their shoulders.

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