Home > Christ The Lord: The Road To Cana(28)

Christ The Lord: The Road To Cana(28)
Author: Anne Rice

Shemayah threw off those who held him. He glared at his daughter and at me.

He ran at me.

"You'll drink from that broken cup for the rest of your life, you will!" Shemayah cursed. "You filthy cheating liar, you damnable thief."

Avigail shrieked. "No, stop it, he didn't . . . he did nothing!" She stood up, arms out to him. "Father, he did nothing."

"A curse on you," Shemayah shouted at me. My brothers rose up in front of him, blocking him and pushing me backwards. I felt my aunt Salome's arms around me and then the arms of my cousins Silas and Levi.

"Let me go, stop," I declared, but there were too many of them.

"You think my daughter is a harlot that you can do this to her?" Shemayah shouted, straining against the men who held him, his face red.

Over the arms that held me, I could just make out his advancing on Avigail, and grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her so that her head fell back and her veil fell off.

A huge huzzah rose from the crowd, so loud it brought everyone to silence.

Avigail's dark mantle had fallen open. All could see the white gauze of her gold-trimmed gown. Shemayah saw it. Shemayah ripped the mantle from her and flung it to the side.

The shock of the crowd found one huge wordless voice.

Avigail stood horrified, unable to grasp what had happened. Then she looked down at herself, saw for herself what they saw: the frail, gauzy white wedding tunic, embroidered at the sleeves and hem in gold.

Silent Hannah and Shabi grabbed at Avigail's mantle and tried to give it back to her. Shemayah knocked Shabi flat on his back on the grass with his fist.

Avigail stared up at her father. She clutched at the neck of her gown, at the loose strings of gold that had been untied when she came to me, and then suddenly, she let out a low terrible cry.

"Harlot, am I?" she screamed. "Harlot! In my mother's wedding tunic, I am a harlot!"

"Stop her, get her!" I called out. "Rabbi, this is a child."

"Harlot!" she screamed again and then she tore at the neck of her gown. "I am a harlot, yes, I am a harlot, I am your harlot," she sobbed. She staggered backwards free of her father. Free of the children.

"No," I shouted. "Avigail, stop this. Rabbi! Stop this."

Jason struggled, ran forward, and was thrown to the ground by men around him.

Again came that horrid sound, the sound of stones flying. The children screamed in terror. Silent Hannah fell to the ground.

"No, stop this in the name of Heaven!" I cried.

Avigail stepped back again, screaming louder. "Harlot!" she cried. With her own hands like uplifted claws, she tore at her own hair, disheveling it and bringing it down around her face. "Look on this harlot!" she shrieked.

The chorus of judgment rose in frantic and furious shouts and cries. Stones flew past us from everywhere. I fought with all my strength against my brothers as they dragged me to the ground. I felt hands around my knees and my ankles. Struggling, panting, shouting, I was being dragged away.

The shrieking and wailing of the children cut through the hoarse curses and execrations.

"Lord God in Heaven, this cannot happen!" I cried. "Stop this!"

Father, send the rain!

A deafening crack of thunder broke overhead.

The sky darkened, the light dying in front of my eyes as I fell forward onto the stony earth and scrambled to my knees. On came the thunder again, immense and rolling. I stood on my feet. I looked up at the heavy, leaden, gathering clouds.

A knife of lightning blinded me. The crowd gasped with one voice again. The thunder crackled and bore down again.

I saw, before me on the slope, Avigail still standing, Avigail, surrounded by the children, saved by the children - by Isaac and Shabi and Yaqim and Silent Hannah, all of whom clung to her along with countless others, some of them lying at her feet, their sobbing faces turning from her to their petrified parents and from their parents to the boiling sky. My aunt Esther clung to Avigail, her arms over Avigail's head. James rose from the ground, loosed by those who'd held him, and stared stunned at the Heavens.

"Saved," I whispered. I breathed the warm wet wind. Saved. I closed my eyes and fell down on my knees.

The windows of Heaven opened.

The rain came pouring down.

Chapter Fifteen

IT WAS A RAIN SO DENSE and swift it brought the twilight with it, closing up the world in front of men's eyes. James and Esther picked up Avigail, off her feet, that I could see, and James slung her up high over his shoulder, the better to carry her, and all ran for the village or what shelter perhaps that they could find.

With my brothers, I took hold of Joseph, and we hoisted him to our shoulders and rushed down the hill.

We were soaked to the skin before we reached the street, and the street was a running river. Now we had the faintest lanterns to guide us through the shadows, the tramp of feet all around us, people uttering fearful cries now and bits of prayer.

But nothing could prevent us from gaining our courtyard, throwing open the doors of the house, and rushing one and all inside.

Joseph was set down gently and at once, his white hair plastered to his pink scalp. Lamp after lamp was lighted.

The women in a flock carried Avigail deep into the house, her sobs echoing off the walls, and up the stairs into the small rooms of the second floor which belonged to the women alone.

The men fell down exhausted on all sides.

Old Bruria and my mother came with dry robes for us, and together with Little Mary and Mara, who had been with them all the while, went to drying us off, taking our wet clothes, patting down our hair.

James lay back, out of breath, staring at the ceiling. I slumped against the wall.

Old Uncle Alphaeus came in, bewildered and amazed. Then Uncle Cleopas appeared from the outside, dripping and out of breath. The last of the children came in with him. It was he, along with Menachim, who bolted the door.

The rain slammed onto the tile roofs. It rushed in the gutters and down the pipes to the cisterns, and to the mikvah, and to the many jugs beneath the downspouts all round and about the house. It clattered against the wooden shutters. It crashed in gust after gust against the rattling doors.

No one spoke as we rubbed ourselves dry and put on the fresh robes given us. My mother tended to Joseph, gently peeling off the soaked garments. The children heaped up the coals, and went this way and that in their excitement, searching for even more lamps to be lighted in this dense and snug and safe place.

Suddenly there was a crashing fist against the door.

"If he dares," said James, rising to his feet with his hand out. "If he dares come here, I'll kill him."

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