The Bronze Bow (11 page)

"You mean the carpenter." The man nodded. "He's back in town again. He'll be here tomorrow without a doubt."

"Do you know where I could find him now?"

"That would be hard to do. Sometimes he goes about preaching. Sometimes he takes a woodturning job. But at night you could find him at the house of Simon bar Jonas in Bethsaida. He sleeps there."

Bethsaida was scarcely two miles the other side of the city, and there were many hours to spare before nightfall. Daniel had the excuse he wanted. He climbed the hill to the house of Hezron. He located the hinged door, and it swung open at his touch. He picked up a sharp pebble and scratched the shape of a bow on the mud wall, and looking carefully up and down the street, crawled through the door and along the passage.

He waited for a long time. Twice he cautiously pushed open the door and peered out, knowing by the shadows on the street that he must soon be on his way. When he had almost given up hope, Joel came crawling along the passage.

"I've checked every day," he greeted Daniel. "I didn't think you'd come so soon."

"It was just luck." Daniel explained about the dagger.

"Are you all right, Daniel? Thacia said your wound was not healed enough. You should have stayed here." With his usual thoughtfulness, Joel had brought a small loaf of bread, which Daniel munched gratefully.

"I must find Simon," Daniel said. "It's time I started for Bethsaida." He hesitated. "Could you go with me? This Jesus—I'd like to know what you make of him."

Joel considered. "There's talk about him everywhere," he said. "Do you think he's a Zealot? Father says he is dangerous. I'd like to see him myself. Yes, I think I'll risk it."

At dusk the two boys emerged from their hiding place, and Joel led the way through unfrequented streets till they came out on the path above the lake. Below them four men were sliding their boat into the water. As they watched, three of the men climbed aboard, one took the heavy oars in hand, the last man gave a shove, and the boat drifted slowly out from the shore, its image wavering on the glassy surface. The oarsman began to sing, and the others took up the melody. For a long time, as the boys walked on, the song floated back over the water with a strange sadness.

The village of Bethsaida was a tumbled mass of fishing shacks in the gathering darkness. Smoky light glimmered from the open doors of the huts. They followed the one narrow street till presently they overtook a man and woman who walked slowly to keep pace with a small boy who stumbled between them. Before Daniel could speak, the man looked back and questioned them instead.

"Do you know which would be the house of Simon the fisherman?"

"We're looking for it ourselves."

The man nodded. "With so many looking it shouldn't be hard to find. But the boy is getting tired. We've walked all the way from Cana today. They told us in town that the preacher would be at the home of Simon tonight."

Daniel glanced at the child, noting the way he hugged one arm close to his body, wrapping it in his mantle.

"It's his hand," the woman explained. She reached out and pulled the mantle aside. Both boys started at the glimpse of red swollen flesh. The child flashed them a look of fury, jerked the mantle back into place and trudged on, his eyes on the road.

"Bit by a camel," the man said. "Two months ago and it won't heal. I'm a weaver, and so the boy must be after me, and a weaver needs two good hands."

"We only heard about the preacher yesterday," said the woman. "We have not wasted any time."

Daniel was puzzled. "This preacher—is he a doctor as well?" he asked.

"Where do you come from, that you haven't heard about the preacher?" the man demanded. "Our neighbor who came back from Capernaum said that they talk of nothing else. My neighbor saw him heal a man who had been lame for twenty years. The man ran, he told me, ran like a young boy. If this preacher can do that, he can heal my son."

Daniel glanced at Joel uneasily. "Have you heard of this?" he asked under his breath.

Joel hesitated. "There is talk. Father says—" He checked himself, and the two walked on silently, keeping their doubts to themselves. It seemed a shame to have made a child walk all the way from Cana.

Presently the murmur of many voices came to them. The sound drew them away from the street into an alley, at the end of which they made out the outline of a house.

The square of light that was the doorway was choked by dark figures. People crowded the room inside and overflowed into the courtyard, blocking the path to the door. Some sat crosslegged on the ground or leaned against the gate. They seemed to be waiting. Daniel saw that many of them were ill. Some had been carried here and lay on the ground on crude litters. All about him he saw canes and crutches and the glimmer of bandages. From one corner of the yard smoke rolled from a clay oven, carrying a pungent odor of frying fish.

The two boys stepped around the litters, and Daniel plucked the coatsleeve of a man who leaned on the doorpost. "Peace," he said.

"Peace," responded the man. "There's no room inside. The master will be out when he has finished eating."

"I'm looking for a friend of his," Daniel said. "Simon the blacksmith, from Ketzah. Do you know of him?"

"The Zealot? He's inside." The man leaned into the door and called out. "Simon! There's one here asking for you."

The figures in the doorway shifted. Framed against the square of light Simon peered out into the dim yard.

"Here, Simon. It's Daniel, from Ketzah."

"Daniel!" There was genuine pleasure in the man's voice. "I'm glad you found the place. Come inside. Have you eaten?"

They pushed their way into a small room, smoky, airless, overfull of dark bearded men. The smell of fresh bread, of fish and burning oil made Daniel's head swim. He introduced his two friends to each other.

"By the look of you, you've walked all the way from the mountain," said Simon. "But first you must meet the master." One hand on each boy's elbow he steered them across the room.

Daniel stood face to face with the carpenter. The man's eyes, looking straight into his, blocked out every other thought. Filled with fight and warmth, those eyes, welcoming him with friendship, yet searching too, disturbing, demanding.

"I am glad you have come," Jesus said. Daniel could say nothing at all. For a moment he was afraid. Only when the man turned away and his eyes no longer held his own, could he breathe freely again.

Simon found a place for the boys between two burly fellows who reeked of fish and garlic. Someone had led Jesus to the seat of honor at the head of the table. Several women were moving now among the men, carrying wooden platters of bread and lettuce and small fish fried in oil. They placed the dishes on the mat before Jesus, and he looked up with a warm smile.

"You must have worked long, my daughters," he said, "to provide a feast for so many."

The women glanced sideways at each other, smiling, their brown faces flushed. Jesus reached out and took a wafer of bread from the plate.

A voice spoke from the end of the table. "Teacher," a man said, "no one has provided for us to wash our hands. In this house do you not observe the Law?"

The woman of the house gasped, hand against her mouth in dismay. All her pride and pleasure was wiped out in an instant. "Was it needful?" Her eyes pleaded with the carpenter. "I did not think—so many—"

"Do not be distressed," Jesus answered her gently. "It was not needful." He looked down the long mat toward the man who had spoken. "In this house the food has been given us with love," he said slowly. "Let us make sure that our hearts rather than our hands are worthy to receive this gift." He stood up, his long white robe holding the light, and spoke a blessing over the bread. Then he passed the platter to the one beside him.

Daniel glanced at Joel. With a pucker of confusion between his brows, Joel had taken a small morsel of the bread and was putting it to his lips. Perhaps this was the first time in his life, Daniel realized, that Joel had deliberately broken the Law. He too must have felt the carpenter's words as a reproach.

When the short meal was done, Jesus rose from the table, gave thanks again, to God and to the woman of the house, then moved slowly through the crowded room to the door. Instantly a clamor rose from the courtyard, a frenzy of wailing, shouting, pleading voices.

"Let me touch you, Rabbi. Let me only touch the edge of your cloak!"

"My son, Rabbi! He has had the fever for seven days!"

"Over here, Master! Look this way! I cannot move for the crowd!"

Jesus stood on the threshold for a moment, looking out over the wailing people. Daniel, who had pushed close behind him, almost reached out to hold him back. Those people out there—so frantic—they could tear a man to pieces! But Jesus stretched out his hand and spoke, and the clamor died away. A few voices kept on pleading, the moaning could not all be stilled, but once again the crowd waited. Then Jesus stepped down into the courtyard and moved, with serenity, among them. Feeble hands reached out to him, stretched and grasped at his clothing. Some of the sick dragged forward, and when they could not reach him, kissed the ground behind him. Before one after another Jesus stopped. Sometimes he spoke quietly Sometimes he touched a man briefly, or a child. What he said no one could hear.

Suddenly a scream rang out. "I am well!" a woman cried. "He has cured me! I am well!" The clamor rose again, drowning her out.

The women who had served Jesus moved now among the crowd with the platters of food, and the bearded fishermen helped them. Hands snatched the food as it passed, cramming it into mouths, spilling it in frantic greed. Daniel understood now why those in the house had eaten so sparingly. There would never be enough to satisfy this starving horde. He shuddered, looking at them. Where had they come from, these wretched creatures who had dragged themselves to this place in the hope of a morsel of bread?

Then Daniel saw the man and woman he had met on the road, standing almost within the reach of Jesus' hand. As Jesus turned, they pushed the child in front of them. The woman went down on her knees and hid her face. The man stood, his eyes fixed on Jesus. Then four men carrying a litter blocked them from Daniel's view, and when he saw them again the three were going rapidly through the gate in the hedge. He sprang after them.

"Did you see him?" he demanded, catching up with them. "Did he speak to you?"

Tears were streaming down the woman's face. Her eyes were dazed, and she could not speak. The man had the same dazed look. "The boy is healed," he said.

"How do you know?" Daniel demanded. "Have you looked at it?"

"No. I have not looked. Show him your arm," the man ordered his son.

The boy shook off the mantle and held out his hand. "It doesn't hurt anymore," he said, puzzled. Daniel felt a sudden chill. He leaned closer.

"It is still swollen!" he accused the man.

The man did not look. "The pain is gone," he said. "The swelling will go too."

"What did he do? Did he touch it?"

"No," the man said. "I don't think he touched it. I started to tell him what was wrong, and I couldn't get the words out. I could only look at him. And then I knew that the boy was all right."

Suddenly Daniel was furious. "You are lying to me!" he cried. "There is some trick—"

"Why should I lie to you?" The man looked back steadily. "I tell you, the boy's hand is healed, and now he will make a weaver."

Back in the yard Simon stood with Joel. Daniel clutched at the older man. "That boy!" he stammered. "Simon—he said his arm was healed!"

Simon did not ask what boy or seem surprised. "Yes," he said quietly.

"But I saw it—we both saw it—not an hour ago. The boy says it doesn't hurt."

"Several people were healed tonight," said Simon.

"It's impossible! Is it some trick?"

"You say you saw the arm yourself. What do you think?"

"I don't understand."

"Nor do I," Simon answered. "But I must believe my own eyes. I have seen it happen, over and over."

Joel spoke thoughtfully. "Is he a magician?"

"No magician could do the things he does. He claims that his power comes from God."

"But these other people—all these—?"

"I don't know why they are not all healed. It seems to require something from the person himself, a sort of giving up. The child you saw, or his parents, must have had that sort of faith."

"Perhaps the arm would have healed anyway."

"Perhaps," said Simon. He put a silencing hand on Daniel's arm. "Wait now, he is going to speak."

For the third time, something in Daniel leaped to answer that voice. It was not a joyous voice tonight or a commanding one as it had been on the sunlit shore. This time its gentleness rested on the suffering people like a comforting touch. But strength still poured through its calm tones, and utter sureness.

"Do not be afraid," Jesus said to them. "For you are the children of God. And does not a father understand the sorrow of his children, and know their need? For I tell you, not even a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father seeing, and you are of more value than many sparrows. Try to bear your suffering with patience, because you know that God has made a place for you in His Kingdom."

The kingdom! Daniel looked about him. What good would it do to speak of a kingdom to these miserable wretches? What could it mean to them, when not one of them could lift a hand to fight for it? But he saw their faces, white, formless blots in the darkness, all lifted toward this man. He heard their harsh breathing all around him, stifled in their straining not to miss a word. They listened as though his words were food and they could never get enough.

"But you must be kind to each other, and love each other," the voice was saying. "For each of you is precious in His sight."

The figure in the white robe swayed slightly. In the dim light from the doorway the man looked very weary. Instantly one of the fishermen was at his side. Another came from the house with a lighted lamp. Together, shielding him from the people, they persuaded their master across the garden. The crowd watched them, quieted, almost stupefied, by the spell of that gentle voice. The three climbed the outside staircase of the house and entered the shelter on the roof.