All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) (15 page)

“No, in fact she hasn’t. That part of the story was never accurately described. But come, I am a poor host. Have some water to drink, and let us go return you to your family. I have kept you standing and talking for far too long, and your most recent journey must have been thirsty work.” He pulled a water bag from over his shoulder and held it out to Kole. Kole took it with thanks and drained it nearly dry. He hadn’t realized how parched his mouth and throat had been. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and passed the skin back to Jared, who was staring at his robe.

“That is a fine garment,” he said. “I have never seen it’s like…as if you are blanketed in a cloud with the yellow sun in the hollow of your throat.”

“It is a coat from the Lord,” explained Kole. “And I no sooner had it on, but I spilled fruitjuice upon it,” indicating the stain upon his left breast.

“That, to my eyes, is no blemish,” said Jared. “It is but another mark of honor from God; and a tale to be told. I am eager to hear more of your quest, Brother, but for now I will set aside my selfish curiosity and ask you to grant me the privilege of announcing your arrival to our mother and father. There will no doubt be many celebrations for your return.”

“Yes, please,” said Kole. “Lead the way.”

Jared nodded and took his young daughter’s hand in his. Looking back over his shoulder and indicating that Kole should follow him, he led him down the path toward the river. As they exited the trees, Kole’s throat constricted with memories. The sight of the water, the smell of the cook-fires, the sound of human voices talking while routine tasks were happily performed. There was the rock his mother used to serve the family’s meals upon. There was the cave across the river where his brother…

There was the stockade against the face of the cliff. And just down the beach, a bit further than he remembered, were more people than he had ever seen. Men fishing, cutting wood, carrying stones, carving, laughing; women cooking, washing, walking with babies on their backs. And children, oh the children, running and playing happily amidst all the toil, yelling, screaming, crying. Mothers kissing scratches. Fathers or older brothers with young boys riding on their shoulders. Toddlers sitting plump and smiling on blankets, slurping on thumbs. Young ones chasing each other, giggling, throwing fruit back and forth.

Kole stopped and stared.
So many,
he thought. Can there truly be so many? And even as he stared, those in the camp became aware of Jared’s return with a stranger. All activity ceased. Almost as one, hundreds of sets of eyes stared at him in return.

Then Jared broke the spell. “It is my great privilege and honor to present to you one who has been absent for far too long. Behold, my family, the firstborn of our parents. This is my eldest brother, Kole.”

For a moment there was only silence. Silence more deep than Kole had ever heard. One child turned to her mother and said in a scared voice, “Mother, is he here to take someone back with him?” Then all the voices were speaking at once. Kole had never heard a more pleasant sound.

It was as if all his wounded thoughts of the past few days were being soothed with a balm of music. He let his eyes readjust themselves so that he could perceive the colors of each person’s being mix and mingle, cascading from the center of each one, joining and flowing across the space between them to pour over and through him. He let their sound and sight wash over him, mingle with his own song and become one.

This was his family. He didn’t know any of the faces he saw, but that was insignificant to the moment. These were of his same flesh and blood. These people were bodies resonant with the same music that was in his soul. These were people he would love all his days.

And then one face among the faces was suddenly familiar to him. The face he had most longed to see. The one face that meant his journey had reached a resting place.

“Kole, my son,” shouted Adam from their midst. He had been resting on a rock surrounded by children, all sitting at his feet. He rose and ran the short distance to Kole and embraced him in a bone-crushing hug that pinned Kole’s arms to his sides. Kole closed his eyes and lost himself in the closeness of his father. When Adam finally eased his grip and pulled away, there were tears in his eyes. “My son,” he said again, and this time the hug was more mutual. Kole was quick to get his arms up so he too could crush his dad with the fierceness of his love.

For Kole it seemed no more than a week since he had last seen his mother and father, still it was longer than he could ever remember being apart. But for Adam, no less than a century has passed since his eldest son had been so near, and indeed, it was a treasurable moment. “We can have questions and answers later,” said Adam, once more breaking their embrace. “Right now, you must come see your mother.”

Kole nodded.

His reunion with his mother was no less emotional. She repeated his name over and over as she held him to her bosom. “My baby, my baby,” she would say as well, as if to remind him of exactly who he was to her.

Eve had been further up the beach, across the river, picking wild berries with some of her daughters, granddaughters, and great-granddaughters as well. When news reached her of Kole’s return, she had dropped her basket of berries and practically ran across the top of the water to embrace him. In fact, some of her daughters would bear witness all the days of their lives that that is exactly what she did.

There were many tears—round, wet, shiny tears—impossibly big tears that rode the slope of her cheekbones and rested upon the curve in the corner of her smile. She could not quit smiling. She stared at his face through the watery veil of her tears, drinking in the image of him.

Perhaps the tears were necessary to dilute a hundred years worth of grief that she had carried for her firstborn. Tears of joy to compensate her body for all the tears of anguish she had shed in the deepest part of a mother’s lonely life. How often had she cried for him? Only Adam shared enough intimacy with her to know, and his estimate would inevitably fall far short.

There were other tears as well, Kole speculated. Tears for Abel, and tears for Cain. Three sons lost to her in a single blow. Tears wept for a future of ‘what might have been,’ destroyed and lost to all. But more significantly, and perhaps for her the worst of all, weeping to drown out the vivid reminder to her from her own children that she, of all people, male and female, could have prevented this. She had been blaming herself for over a hundred years for the absence of Kole, the loss of Cain, and the death of Able, and the return of her eldest son felt as if it were the beginning of her reprieve.

Her joy was palpable to Kole, and her beauty overwhelming. She had always been a beautiful woman, but now with the lightening of her heart and spirit, she radiated an inner light that was overwhelming to behold. Indeed, most of the people surrounding them eventually lowered their eyes as this mother hugged her firstborn son fiercely in her slender arms. Finally Adam said, “Come on, my dear. He is home. Let’s get him some food, and prepare for a celebration.”

“Yes,” Eve said, releasing him. Her matronly instincts took over, and she began calling out orders to those around her, giving instructions for food preparation and cooking duties. Three young girls were sent to fetch water, three more were sent to gather herbs and wild onions. Two were given the assignments of cleaning fish, and two more tasked to clean up after the fish cleaners. A solid-looking man about Kole’s age, when he had left for the garden, was ordered to butcher three yearlings, and another two youths offered to hunt for deer before they were asked to do some less desirable chore. Suddenly the camp was a flurry of hurry, bustling about, bumping into each other, and laughing. Kole had never imagined there could be so much activity.

A young woman with a small boy in her arms walked up to him. “Hello, Kole,” she said with a shy grin.

“Hi Ko’,” repeated the toddler in her arms.

“Hello,” said Kole.

“Don’t you remember me, Kole,” she asked. “Don’t you even recognize your smallest little sky-fire?”

“Nolia?”

She nodded.

“Nolia!” Kole seemed to explode across the small gap of space that separated them. One moment he was standing apart from her and the next she was in his arms, as was the small boy.

“Oh, Nolly,” said Kole, “I’ve missed you. Look at how grown you are. You’re a woman now. You’re beautiful. How is it that you’ve grown so fast?” asked Kole without thinking.

“It’s been a long time, Kole,” she replied.

“Yes, it has, hasn’t it? And is this your son?” he asked, indicating the boy in her arms.

“No. My children are all off playing or preparing for your homecoming. This is mama’s youngest, Kole. This is your brother Seth.”

“My brother,” said Kole. “Hello little man,” he said, bending down to look at him face to face. “I’m glad to meet such a fine little brother. You remind me of Abel when he was a boy. I think the Lord must have great things planned for you.”

“Gwate dings,” repeated the boy, and Kole laughed.

“Yes, that’s right, great things. And I may not know a lot, but I’ll bet that one of the greatest things in your life is being held by such a beautiful sister.”

“Sis-der,” said Seth, and Nolia blushed.

“And speaking of sisters, Nolly, where are the other beautiful sisters that I remember having. I am anxious to great them as well.”

“Oh, Kole,” said Nolia, instantly sobering up. “Cain returned. He came, and he was angry. He was sad too, but he was angry. Father sat and talked with him, and I can still remember their harsh voices that night. I couldn’t fall asleep. I’ve never heard father speak so. They mostly talked about Abel. I could hear his name sometimes, but I didn’t hear anything else. Just them talking, with their voices raised. But it didn’t drown out the sound of mama’s crying. Oh, Kole, she was so sad. We all were, but Mother most of all. Every day she cried. She refused to get up, she refused to eat. She just lay there. Mostly just laying there so quiet you couldn’t tell if she was crying or not. But you could see her shoulders shaking. And every now and then she would take a deep, ragged breath. Cain couldn’t stand it, I think. He left again after about three days and has never spent another night in our camp.”

“Never,” asked Kole?

“No, never. But I’m sure father would be angry at me for talking so much. These are things that he will want to tell you, I think. We should go and find him. And perhaps we could sample some of tonight’s feast food, if you’re hungry.”

Kole was lost in thought and almost didn’t hear her. “Oh, yes, I am hungry,” he said with a weak grin.

Many of his family wanted to come up to Kole and talk to him. Even touch him. They introduced themselves and asked questions that he couldn’t easily answer. He hugged people until his arms ached, and still it seemed there were people he had not met.

The sun sank behind the trees, and the smells of cooking meat and soups wafted through the air. Despite the snack that Kole and Nolia had had, his stomach growled. Extra fires were lit, and the small clearing of trees beside the sandy river beach was aglow with bright flickering lights and long, dancing shadows.

Kole glanced around the gathering of people, so many. He thought back to the night he had pondered the sparks of his own campfire, years ago now. His speculations had come true. Here in this one place were over a hundred of his own family—all living, loving, and raising little ones, happy souls, cooperating with each other. If life could be like this then Kole wanted to participate. He would enjoy settling down, having some children, raising that flock of sheep that the Lord had provided him. The Creator had said, “I have watched your sheep for you. Now you will watch my sheep for me.” Seemed easy enough.

Kole met Jared’s staring eyes on the far side of the fires with his own. His younger brother, tenth born, sixth son of Adam, was standing a small distance from the burning logs, and he was mostly in shadow, but his eyes gleamed with a predatory light of their own. A smile crossed both men’s lips as they realized they had been caught staring at each other. Jared waved with one hand and appeared to be about to walk over and talk, but his young daughter was tugging at his sleeve, and Kole guessed that she wanted her daddy to get her some food.