Part 23 (2/2)

I came to stand before Ethans tapestry where it hung on the wall. It was the only valuable item I had not sold. I knew I would be able to keep Keziah and me for a full year if I could sell it at a decent price.

Keziah, come and help me take this off the wall.

I heard a gasp behind me. You cannot sell that, mistress! You love that tapestry.

I sighed. I have no choice. We are going to run out of money. Now please bring it near the window so I can examine it in the light of the sun. I need to ensure it needs no repairs.

Keziah did not budge. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Have you prayed about it?

My mouth dropped open. Keziah never challenged me. I knew her faith had grown deeper in recent years. Often, she would join my sister and me, fasting and praying and asking insightful questions about the Scriptures. Though she could not read, she had a quick mind and had memorized large portions of the Law. Yet she had never questioned my faith.

The time for prayer is past, I said. I knew my tone was tart, but I could not curb my tongue.

Mistress! The time for prayer is never past. I will not touch that tapestry until you promise to pray for two weeks. Seek G.o.ds will, and if he opens no other doors, then I will do as you say.

After twelve years of living alone together, the lines between servant and master had long grown bleary. Keziah was as much a friend as servant to me. She had earned the right to reprimand me, though she rarely exercised it.

I felt my annoyance evaporate. I have no choice, it seems. I cant touch that tapestry as I would render it unclean. And you refuse to do it.

Keziah grinned. That sums it up. Now let us pray and ask the Lord to give you his aid.

After we finished seeking the will of G.o.d, Keziah said, Mistress, have you heard of the new prophet from Galilee?

I groaned. I care not for any new prophet unless he is interested in buying my tapestry for a good price.

They say his touch heals.

And I say it is time for our noonday meal.

The day Keziah had promised to help me place the tapestry on sale, Ethan came to my home. I should have expected his arrival. Keziah kept in touch with Viriato and Ethan and had made arrangements with them behind my back more than once.

I hugged my elbows and hardened my heart to the sight of Ethans beloved face. Whatever you have to say, the answer is no.

Some things never change, I see. Your favorite word is still no.

I am well aware you and Keziah have hatched some plot between you. I told you I did not want your help, Ethan. I will manage by myself.

I agree. And so you should.

You do? I should?

Certainly. I am here for a business transaction.

My eyes narrowed. What kind of business transaction?

You want to sell my tapestry. I want to buy it back. That is an irreplaceable piece, Elianna. If you are going to get rid of it, I would rather have it in my own possession.

Oh. In truth, I could not object to his reasoning. The piece was rare and extremely valuable. Ethan had always admired it. I could believe his willingness to purchase it for his own pleasure rather than in order to rescue me.

What followed must have been one of the most absurd transactions in commerce ever to take place. The buyer insisting on a higher price, the seller absolutely refusing the trade unless the price were lowered. If I had not been on the edge of humiliated tears during our negotiations, I would have laughed aloud.

As he put away his coin purse, Ethan said, There is a new prophet in Galilee who wields great power, they say. Have you heard of him? My wifes cousin, Jairus, who is the leader of the synagogue in Capernaum, has heard him teach. His voice sounded casual, but his shoulders were stiff.

Keziah speaks of little else these days, I said with a yawn.

I fear that is my fault. I told her about the man.

I have no interest in new prophets and dazzling miracles. I jingled my leather pouch, heavy with gold, thanks to Ethans generosity. This, on the other hand, shall bring great relief into my home.

Ethan saved me from homelessness that day. What he paid me for that tapestry would see Keziah and me through two more years instead of one. How I would provide for myself after that, I could not say. But for now, at least, I was safe. G.o.d had provided, though I, in my pride, did not like the means of his provision. I gave him thanks in much the same tone I had used to thank Ethan. Ungracious and resentful. The Lord did not strike me down, nor did Ethan hold it against me.

They say he is a great prophet, Joanna said, her hands flapping with excitement.

Not this holy man again! Keziah would not stop talking about him. Every day she told me a new story more unbelievable than the one before. And now my sister was joining her forces.

Joanna, you know that amongst the people of Israel, great prophets come and go with the same predictability as the change of seasons.

He is different, I tell you. A report of him has spread throughout this region.

Who is this man? And where does he hail from?

He is Jesus of Nazareth.

I frowned, not bothering to hide my skepticism. Nazareth, that backwater village? He is probably just an ignorant peasant with claims too big for his own good.

They say he astonishes people with his authority and knowledge. Last week in Capernaum, he was teaching in a synagogue. A man who had an unclean spirit came to that place. Jesus cast the spirit out, Elianna.

I rolled my eyes. I wish someone would cast out the dust around here. The weather has been so dry, it gathers as soon as we clean it.

Listen to me, Sister. That same evening, people throughout the village who had heard about this miracle brought their sick family members to him.

Was there a long line? He must have made good money that night.

He charged no money. And he healed every one. No matter what diseases they suffered, the touch of his hand healed them.

I frowned. This is a tall tale, Joanna. How can you be so gullible?

How can you be so cynical? You have tried every physician, suffered every indignity under the sun from supposedly learned men. Will you not give this man of G.o.d a try?

Thank you. No.

Joanna was now twenty-nine years old. She longed for a child so badly that I feared she would fall for any fraudulent prophet with a slick tongue. I had been sick for twelve years, myself. I could understand her vulnerability. But I was determined that I would not be won over by a dishonest man posing as a prophet.

<script>