The First Day brought the Gathered to the spring. They sat on the grassy patch, listening as Raham taught. He stepped down from the large, flat rock, signaling to those in need. A line formed, led by one with a withered hand. Raham instructed the elders, including Selah and Zetetic, who encircled the man. With outstretched hands, they spoke against the deformity and claimed healing by the Promised One.
Others stood and moved forward, seeing an open invitation. Most began talking and greeting each other One newcomer kept distance, watching the elders and those approaching them.
He observed the man with the withered hand particularly. The man turned to leave, stopping near the newcomer. He stared intently at his affected arm, then all of a sudden, turned back toward the crowd. Both his arms raised, looking upward and shouting.
“Look! Look what the Giver has done!” the man began dancing. He had everyone’s attention, and they witnessed it was no longer withered.
Praise was given as the Gathered began shouting, leaving the newcomer bewildered.
“What is your name?” Raham called, booming over the noise of the crowd.
He took the newcomer’s attention from the healed man.
“Me?” he mouthed, pointing his thumb to his chest.
Raham nodded, and the man stood. “Ro’eh,” he called through the crowd.
“Please, Ro’eh,” Raham called. “Come.” Raham waved his arm, motioning him forward.
Ro’eh stood only staring back at Raham. One behind him gave him a gentle nudge until he began making his way through the crowd. He reached the spring standing before Raham. The two looked one another over before Raham finally spoke.
“I have been given a word meant for you. It will be revealed in due time,” Raham said. “I saw a dog walking at the water’s edge. It stepped in with two legs, and that half became like a lion. The other remained that of a dog. It pulled at itself; each half chose differently.”
“What does this mean?” Ro’eh questioned.
“It means you should pray and meditate. The Giver will show you.”
Raham held Ro’eh’s shoulders, softening his face. “It is good you have joined us. Please accept our fellowship,” Raham opened one arm toward the Gathered.
Ro’eh received a lot of attention. Most introduced themselves while pressing him about his own household.
“Is your family from Erudition?” A man asked, his wife beside him.
“My wife’s family has a plot south of the village. Her father passed only last season, but now we manage the farm and care for her mother.”
“The place near Raham’s orchard? I remember hearing of the old man passing, but I didn’t know him.” The man said.
“Yes, that is now my place. My wife’s household practiced the old rites. They have always kept to their own.” Ro’eh explained.
“Well, you are here and welcomed among us. Please… bring your wife so we may welcome her also.” The woman said warmly.
“Perhaps at the next gathering,” said Ro’eh.
Ro’eh did not wait for the First Day before returning. This had been a fresh experience for him, and he was compelled to look for his newfound friends as the work week allowed. Normally, he was only approached when one had a need. Not these people. They only seemed to give and to lift.
By the First Day, Ro’eh had become acquainted with several in the faith. He told his wife, Mahalath, about the Gathered and miracles he witnessed. She was convinced to join him. They left with the dispersing crowd, taking the love and excitement with them.
Ro’eh turned to Mahalath on the walk home. “I am burdened by some of our practices,” he said. “We should rid ourselves of the old rites. This God, whom the Gathered serve, is jealous. I have seen His works that prove His power, but the old gods seem absent.”
He slowed as the words left his mouth. Mahalath stopped and turned to look at him as if he had harmed her.
“Everything? Not everything,” her voice heightened. “Much of what we have has been with my family for generations. And what about my mother? You know she can’t leave the bed without shrine-dust and the helper in her grip.”
“I think these things are empty,” Ro’eh lowered his voice. “They only help in her mind.”
Mahalath huffed, and they did not speak for the rest of the walk.
Arriving home, Ro’eh followed as Mahalath stepped in first. The threshold seemed like a barrier halting his motion. The smell of burnt incense billowed out. His eyes moved across the room, glimpsing various wall hangings and carved images neatly placed on the shelf. Next to a healer idol was a worn pouch of the shrine-ash he used to believe had healing power. A book of workings remained opened where he left off studying just days prior.
Ro’eh leaned against the entrance, causing Mahalath to look back at him. His sneer and reluctance to enter couldn’t be ignored. After a moment, she breathed out and her shoulders dropped.
“Come in. I will help you take what needs to go,” she said.
They worked, gathering up all the old rites, taking them outside to place under the goat shelter. “These will be burned in the morning,” Ro’eh said to himself.
Morning light shone in through the east window. Ro’eh stretched next to Mahalath.
“I was having strange dreams,” he said to her.
She blinked but did not move yet.
“There were snakes everywhere I stepped. It was difficult to avoid them.”
“Strange,” she said, rising. “The goat has been calling out. You should go check on it.”
“I heard it. It is probably hungry,” he said, turning to get his feet into his sandals.
The sun seemed bright coming in through the window. Ro’eh felt lighter and looked forward to what the day had in store. Venturing out, he first laid eyes on the goat who had its head stuck between two fence rails. He stared for a brief moment, then shaking his head, he said, “How do you manage this?”
After freeing it, Ro’eh began humming the song he had learned at the gathering. Each completed chore gave him a sense of pride and gratitude for all he had.
“Ro’eh!” Mahalath called out from the doorway. Her tone startled him from the peaceful place. As he neared, her voice cracked. “It’s Ima.”
He moved in hesitantly, hearing her loud moaning, reaching to pull the curtain aside. She lay in bed, eyes closed; tossing her head back and forth.
Ro’eh took her hand, kneeling at the bedside. “What is it, Ima?” he whispered.
She groaned, clenching her side. “Ro’eh,” her eyes opened to meet his. “I need my helper. I need my ash rub.”
Ro’eh’s head dropped as he breathed out. “Those won’t help you. They are empty,” he explained.
Her moaning became louder, her eyes clenched tight, and she began tossing back and forth. Ro’eh looked up; his wife’s face wet with tears.
“Raham the elder will help,” he said to her, standing quickly and stepping toward the doorway. “He is not far and knows of these things.”
Mahalath blocked his way grabbing his forearm. “You know how to help her. Don’t leave her this way,” she pleaded.
Mahalath’s mother seemed to quiet while the two were discussing the matter, then moaned louder when Ro’eh turned his head back toward her.
“I will get her helper – and the shrine-ash,” he said, his eyes to the floor.
Ro’eh was gone for a short time while Mahalath sat comforting her mother. He returned holding both items. His wife’s mother reached, grasping the small carved image in both hands.
“My helper,” she said, bringing it to her chest. Her face softened and moaning eased to heavy breathing.
“Finish the ritual,” Mahalath pushed.
Ro’eh frowned, looking back at his wife. He dipped his finger into the pouch. He rubbed a pattern on her forehead, speaking the words of rites.
Soon, she was quiet again, breathing normally still with the carved image to her chest. Ro’eh rose from the bed. His jaw was clenched, staring straight ahead, as he passed by Mahalath.
More Stories from Erudition
- No Grace, No Work
- Grace Without Works
- The Master Craftsman
- Rock and Grace