Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy (10 page)

Brutus had
scrolls in languages from all over the world, including Egyptian
and Arabic. We spoke Aramaic most of the time. I was fortunate that
my father spoke Aramaic having grown up in Malula, Syria, where
Aramaic was common. How else could I have spoken the language of
the people in the first century?

When I returned
the Greek and Latin scrolls following our language studies, I saw a
Hebrew scroll I had never noticed before. Curious, I pulled it
out.

It was from the
book of Isaiah. I glanced at a passage where someone had made some
illegible notes.

“He had no form or beauty, that we should look at
him:

No charm, that we should find him pleasing.

He was despised, shunned by men

A man of suffering, familiar with disease.

As one who hid his face from us,

He was despised, we held him of no account.

Yet it was our sickness that he was bearing,

Our suffering that he endured.

We accounted him plagued,

Smitten and
afflicted by God;

But he was wounded because of our sins,

Crushed because of our iniquities.

He bore the chastisement that made us whole,

And by his
bruises we were healed.”

I paused to
consider the words. Of whom was Isaiah speaking? I didn’t remember
reading these verses in the Tanakh—but when was the last time I had
even opened the Scriptures?

I read a little more.

“He was
maltreated, yet he was submissive,

He did not open his mouth;

Like a sheep
being led to slaughter,

Like a ewe,
dumb before those who shear her,

He did not
open his mouth.

By oppressive judgment he was taken away,

Who could
describe his abode?

For he was cut off from the land of the living

Through the sin of my people, who deserved the
punishment.

And his grave was set among the wicked.

And with the rich, in his death—

Though he had done no injustice

And had spoken no falsehood.

But the Lord chose to crush him by disease,

That, if he made himself an offering for guilt,

He might see offspring and have long life,

And that through him the Lord’s purpose might
prosper.

Out of his
anguish he shall see it;

He shall enjoy it to the full through his
devotion.”

I put the
scroll back on the shelf. To whom was Isaiah referring?

When Brutus
rode away on his horse a little later, I hurried to find Mari. She
was laying out clothes on the rocks to dry them.

“Is Shale not
coming today? How can Brutus leave on the day of his daughter’s
arrival?”

Mari sighed. “It’s so unfortunate. There has been
another uprising and they needed him in Jerusalem.”

“So he won’t
even be here to greet her.”

Her eyes met mine in uncharacteristic sadness. “He
promised he’d be back as soon as possible. We need to pray for his
speedy return.”

I nodded.

Mari smiled. “You have a kind heart.”

I laughed. Mari
was five years older than I was and seemed like a sister. If I had
a problem, she was the one I went to see. She had plenty to do
without distraction, so I went back to my own mental to-do
list.

I couldn’t
resist keeping a vigil. Every few minutes I’d find an excuse to
steal a look down the road. By noon, I had become so preoccupied
with her arrival I had not gotten much work done. I imagined a
beautiful young woman coming over the hill on a donkey. And then I
reminded myself I was setting myself up for disappointment. So I
would imagine a fat cow coming over the hill on a donkey—and
guessed she’d be somewhere in between.

I soon
discovered I wasn’t the only one watching. I caught Judd gazing
down the road, too, though I pretended I didn’t notice, and he
seemed to be unaware of me. Or maybe neither of us wanted to
acknowledge we were both interested in the same young girl’s
arrival. The only problem was there was only one girl but there
were two of us.

I found myself
copying him, washing my hands and combing my hair and looking at my
reflection in the water. Since arriving, I’d grown a beard, which
made me look older. Judd was three years younger than me. Maybe my
age gave me a competitive advantage.

Still, I
imagined a family secret that had something to do with Judd. If my
ability to read minds could be that specific, I’d know all the
family secrets.

At last, a
donkey carrying a young girl appeared in view. When I first spotted
them, they were a great distance away, merely a tiny dot on the
horizon.

I stood on a
rocky outcrop filled with anticipation. As she came nearer, I could
see her long brown hair below her head covering. She sat sideways
with her legs draped to one side of the donkey—and she wasn’t
flabby or old.

My heart
fluttered. I strained to see what she was wearing—a tasteful
flowery, purple dress. Water bottles hung off the sides of the
donkey. She must have traveled a long distance to carry that many
jugs.

Judd said the
donkey’s name was Baruch. The animal appeared to be gentle, but I
wished he’d speed up a little. He could walk faster if he
wanted.

As they neared, I noticed her stomach bulged. Was
she pregnant? Oh, no, don’t tell me that. My initial excitement at
meeting her paled in comparison with my despair that she was
pregnant. Maybe that was the secret and no one wanted to say.

After a few
minutes of eyestrain fixated on the young girl’s belly—and feeling
guilty for my preoccupation with that part of her body, I decided
she didn’t have a bulging stomach. She had shifted, readjusted
herself, and something white popped up. Then it moved. I squinted.
No, it couldn’t be. A rabbit?

Why would a
young girl on a long journey be traveling with a rabbit? Forget the
rabbit—I wanted to see her face, but her head covering shadowed her
features.

I heard someone
approaching and turned.

Judd acted nonchalant and cool, like this was any
other day. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

“That’s our new
house guest. Scylla told me to receive her.”

Judd squinted
as he gazed across the field before turning away. Maybe he wasn’t
interested in her, but his behavior seemed
contradictory.

I couldn’t tell
if he was glad she was coming or hated the extra work that came
with her arrival. I’d have to work on trying to read his mind—after
I figured out how to read hers.

As Shale approached, I hid behind the fence. I
didn’t want to look too anxious. Besides, she would want to meet
her father and would be very disappointed that he wasn’t here.

The donkey stopped underneath some palm trees next
to the road. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to go any further.
The moment had arrived. I slicked back my brown hair and wiped the
perspiration off my face.

As I
approached, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I should have gone to
the bathroom. Her keen eyes latched onto mine and I forced myself
not to stare. She was bright and fair, lighter in color than I
expected.

Her mannerisms reminded me of her father’s, the way
she sat on the donkey and followed me with her eyes. She smiled
shyly.

Then she looked down, as if checking her dress,
smoothing it out with one hand and holding the white rabbit with
the other.

I introduced myself in Aramaic, “Can I help
you?”

She responded
in kind. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Shale Snyder.”

“Here, let me help you down.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “It was a long journey and
I’m glad to be here.”

I lifted the young girl off the animal, taking care
not to embarrass her in any way, and set her down. She seemed more
concerned about the rabbit than her modesty, clutching the small
furry creature.

“I pray you had safe travels.”

“Yes, I did.” She stretched her body and smoothed
her dress below her knees.

“Your father has been expecting you.”

A look of surprise fell across her face. “What? What
did you say?”

I realized I’d said something I shouldn’t. But
considering the circumstances, what else should I have said?

I changed the
subject. “You’ve traveled a long distance?”

“Yes. But what did you say about my father?”

At that moment Scylla approached. I was glad she
came before I made another faux pas.

Scylla had dolled herself up to impress Shale and
walked with an edge of superiority. What a false façade. Could
Shale perceive her fakeness?

“How are you, Shale? I’m Scylla, your father’s wife.
Brutus is expecting you. He’ll be back from Jerusalem shortly.”

Scylla reached
out to shake Shale’s hand, much like two political leaders from
Israel and Syria would shake hands over a fake peace treaty. I
wished Shale’s father had been here to greet her.

The young girl
was reserved but very observant. Physically she was tall for the
girls of this time. Her high cheekbones and long eyelashes made her
look like a Hollywood beauty. Maybe she wore mascara—unheard of in
first century Palestine—unless you were a person of
means.

I knew nothing
about her mother. Shale reminded me of the girls back home—a
sophisticated worldliness that had its virtues and
flaws.

“We missed you,
Baruch,” said Scylla. She patted the donkey. “I’m glad you’re home
now.”

I was surprised
at Scylla’s kindness towards the animal although she had always
made sure the animals had food and the best care—her one redeeming
quality.

“And what about
the rabbit?” asked Scylla. “Can my servant take the animal back
with Baruch? We have a cave where we keep the animals safe at
night, a stable.”

Shale hesitated.

I smiled reassuringly. “I can give him some
vegetables.”

“It’s a she,” Shale corrected me. “Her name is
Cherios.”

I squirmed. “Pardon me. Let me take Cherios and
Baruch and give them each some food and water.”

She relented with my reassurance.

“How about your bag?”

“Bag—yes, but I think I’ll hold on to the
knapsack.”

Shale patted Baruch, the donkey. “See you in a bit,
and you, too, Cherios.” She handed me a blanket. “If you would take
that also.”

I led the
donkey around to the back, holding the white rabbit underneath my
arm.

Judd sat on the rocky ledge that led to the cave’s
door. Ambivalence shadowed his face. He eyed Baruch with
familiarity. “So Shale has arrived?”

I nodded.
“Where do I put this donkey?”

Without answering my question, Judd’s eyes turned to
the rabbit. “She brought a rabbit?”

“Yes.”

“I bet he’d taste good in rabbit soup.”

I scrawled at him. “Cherios is a pet rabbit, and
it’s a she.”

Judd looked
indignant. “So what does Shale look like?” He stood and followed
me.

No sooner was
the cave door cracked than Much-Afraid bolted. She ran around the
yard sniffing the air as if chasing a faint scent. Then she ran
back and pawed at Baruch with unveiled excitement. The dog licked
Baruch’s face and crouched in friendly submission, wagging her
tail. Curtsy sashays and whimpers of joy followed. Was this a dog’s
way of saying, “Welcome home”?

After a few
minutes, Much-Afraid ran to the back portico and sat, wagging her
tail at the closed door.

How did she
know we had a guest? I called her but she ignored me. I put out
food—but she didn’t even want that. Shale had won over the heart of
Much-Afraid without even meeting her—or so I thought.

*~*~*~*

Judd
disappeared just as he was needed—after I realized Much-Afraid
wasn’t going to leave the back portico. Which stall did he prepare
for the donkey? I led the donkey inside the cave, still clutching
the rabbit that was now wiggling to be free.

I closed the
cave door behind me to make sure she couldn’t escape, but I was
hesitant to put her down until I could find the right container. We
had open wooden crates and water jugs and horse stalls and
pigsties, but nothing seemed appropriate for a small white
rabbit.

As I sat on the bench holding the animal, the donkey
walked towards the middle of the cave and stood in front of a
stall.

I opened the gate and Baruch entered. Soon he was
munching on fresh feed. Suddenly the rabbit jumped out of my arms
and buried herself in the donkey’s hay. Baruch leaned over and
sniffed. Cherios hopped on his head, scurried up his neck, and
plopped down on the donkey’s back. The rabbit stared at me
bright-eyed wiggling her nose.

Who was I to
argue with a donkey and a rabbit? They had already decided where
they wanted to be. I didn’t need Judd to tell me.

I needed to
check on Nathan. Was he still waiting in his room? Since Brutus had
left unexpectedly, I wasn’t sure if I was to introduce Nathan to
Shale.

I closed the
cave door and headed back to the house.

Mari saw me
through the window and smiled.

When I entered
the house, she greeted me. “She’s a lovely girl, isn’t
she?”