Zombies? - #AtoZChallenge

Mila crouched in the rocks and watched for movement. The valley below was well-sheltered, and she'd stay there all night if it looked safe. But safety could change in a moment. The floor of the valley was littered with old bones, which could mean it was abandoned, or could mean it was an active dumping ground. So she watched for movement. Animals, people, anything coming out of hidden crags or caves in the shadowy rocks.

"Show yourselves," she whispered as she made herself comfortable and pulled a dried cake of fruit and nuts from her pack. 

Soon enough an old man came out of a pathway beneath her vantage point. He was walking with a staff, and appeared to be talking to himself. She smiled. One crazy old man was not a major worry. The old man was undeterred by the scattered bones, and walked straight into the middle of the valley, looking around at the bones and scrub brush around his feet as he went. He'd probably cross straight through and be gone in a minute.

He stopped and stood still, apparently listening. Mila listened, too, but heard nothing. Not a whisper of wind. What a strange old man!

With a jerk he raised his arms up to shoulder height, the staff in one hand, the other splayed, palm facing down. He called out loudly in a language Mila did not know. After calling out a few sentences, he lowered his arms and waited.

Mila was so intent on watching the curious old man that at first she did not see the movement on the ground. It started as a stirring of dust, as of mice or moles digging their way out of holes in the ground. Then she noticed it. No mice. No moles. The bones themselves were sliding around. More bones were coming up out of the dirt. The movement increased, sped up, and intensified as bone connected to bone. Her eyes widened in shock. She wanted to move but found herself glued to the spot. Dozens - no, hundreds - of skeletons were coming together and standing around the man. More and more emerged every moment.

She squinted down at the skeletons she could see best. Was that - tendons? Mila felt a convulsion in her gut and controlled her sudden urge to vomit. Tendons were growing out of the bones, connecting them together as they stood there, as even more dry bones came together into bare skeletons. There were surely over a thousand skeletons growing in the valley now. Her jaw dropped open and her throat dried up. When muscles knit themselves together around the shoulder of one tall skeleton, Mila's own muscles found their strength and she scooted back from her hidden perch.

The old man was shouting to the valley full of bones again. It was more like a valley full of disgusting, skinless people, now. Whatever he said, those bones started moving, and so did she. 

As quietly as Mila could manage, she got her feet beneath her and rose into a low crouch. She wanted to keep eyes on what amounted to an army of the dead, but she'd have to turn around to run. 

She rose slowly and stepped backwards with care. One of the muscle-covered skulls turned it's eyeless sockets in her direction. Could it see? Without eyes? Mila froze, petrified by the red, fibrous, muscles moving the face into a gruesome, eyeless, sneer. The skulls atop the skeletons around that first one were now turning in her direction, too. She needed no more proof of danger. She turned and ran as fast as she could back the way she came.

The sound of bones clattering against the rocks as they clambered up the side of the valley followed her. Or was that merely the echoes of the terror in her mind?

Reference: The story of the Valley of Dry Bones is a famous passage from the book of  Ezekiel, chapter 37, verses 1-14. I've been reading too much Stephen King lately, and wanted to consider this from a horror perspective. The only characters in the Biblical story are the prophet Ezekiel, God - who was telling him what to say, and the bones themselves.

YUCK! - #AtoZChallenge

YUCK!

Again, as with my "W" post, this is not Biblical flash fiction.

I was trying to write my Y story - on the "Y" day, because I fell behind in my pre-planning, and found myself in the middle of a panic attack over it. Literally.

Yuck. Not worth it.

Now, I am not prone to panic attacks, so curling up on the floor in the corner of the living room on a hot Vietnamese spring day is not something I'm familiar with. I don't wish to do it again. I forfeit.

Then again, it's the "A-to-Z" challenge, not "A-to-Z-and-you-must-not-deviate-from-your-plan" challenge, so writing about the yuckiness of feeling a failure, the yuckiness of my creativity not rising to the spontaneous task I placed in front of it, the yuckiness of not doing what I'd intended, still fits the bill.

Probably, I should just not have signed up this year. I thought, with half of my posts pre-planned, I'd have a lot more time to visit other blogs. But life had other plans. In the first half of the month I was swamped with prepping for a long trip and all the work of CYA for that. Then, in the last half of this April, I've become entangled in a brand new project for my boss, who does not organize herself and her files and her work in a way conducive to easy partnering.

So today is just YUCK!

I'm done. 

Tomorrow's Z post is pre-scheduled. So I'm literally done with this challenge.

Xuan-Xuan of Xi'an - #AtoZChallenge

The star gleamed in the window of Xuan-Xuan's room. She removed her student's robes and the binding she wore around her chest to disguise her gender. "Aaah..." She swung her torso side-to-side luxuriating in the freedom of her privacy. One day, maybe women wouldn't have to disguise their sex just to study.

She exposed her naked body to that pesky star. It out-shone the moon these days. Was it possible it was growing even brighter? Her hand ran over her shaved head, as if ruffling phantom hair. Pulling on her shift for sleeping, Xuan-Xuan plopped down onto her mat and crossed her legs under her to meditate. 

It was no use. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the light of the star staring at her. Her mind was too full tonight. She got up and pulled out the scroll she'd hidden in a secret pocket of her robe. It was a promising text for illuminating the clue of the star, but she needed help. No one here in the revered towers of Xi'an Xue were curious enough to help. Looking out at the star, she thought of its trek across the night sky over the past weeks. Maybe she should follow it. The landscape below was not easy. How far away was the next scholar who might understand? The next day she packed up a dromedary and left.

Thousands of leagues away, high in the snowy mountains that divided the continent, she met another scholar who'd observed the same astronomical phenomenon. "I'm amazed you came so far alone, young..." 

"Xu-Yuan," she offered the male version of her name. The world was a dangerous place for a woman traveling alone. At Faisal's monastery, they consulted together for three nights, discovering among hidden texts the first hint that this was a portent of a new and powerful king. 

Finally, with the blessing from his superiors, they determined to travel on together, still following the star. "You must not go empty-handed," the Lama of the monastery advised. "Take gifts suitable for a ruler of such wisdom and far-reaching impact." Xuan-Xuan had brought with her a supply of gold but the monastery added more gold and a quantity of frankincense, a gift from pilgrims who had climbed the mountains to seek wisdom here. 

Faisal and Xuan-Xuan carried on, bringing with them a young novice to manage their supplies along the silk road. 

It was only a couple of days before they came upon a large caravanserai heading for the rich ports on the sea to the west. They joined forces for added safety. Soon a pair of young men from the caravan came forward, having noticed the same star. They were not scholarly, but young, clever, and curious. "A king! We knew it must bode something great. Tell us more." Xuan-Xuan and Faisal spent their evenings educating the two men.

Beyond the Euphrates, Xuan-Xuan and Faisal prepared to leave the large group. "Would you take us with you?" one of the two young men asked. They couldn't pronounce his name, so they'd taken to calling him "Chin" and his friend "Fen". Xuan-Xuan asked, "What will you bring as a gift for such an important new king?"

The pair consulted, and then Chin responded. "Fen picked up some Myrrh at the last traveling bazaar we met with. Will that be suitable?"

Xuan-Xuan hadn't heard of this thing, but Faisal appraised the two younger men. Did they understand the properties of myrrh? After consulting with Xuan-Xuan, he smiled at their new proteges. "We may have misjudged you because of your youth. Any king will value such a noble gift."

The journey had taken Xuan-Xuan the better part of a year, but with her new traveling companions, she, and Faisal, Chin, and Fen finally found the small town of Bethlehem. When they finally found the young family, she fell on her knees in tears of joy and relief. The four wise "men" presented their gifts to a grateful father and bemused new mother. 

A few days later, they said farewell to the infant king, and left for the coast. Xuan-Xuan would decide later whether to return to Xi'an or find a new quest. Her eyes had been opened.

Reference: The wise men (magi) are included in the Christmas story in the book of  Matthew, chapter 2, verses 1-12. The Bible does not say there were "three wise men", but names the three gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh so most people assume three people. It also says they came from "the east". Why not start the trip in what is now Xi'an, China? And if Joan of Arc could disguise herself as a man to fight, why not a young female student disquised as a wise man?

What if -? - #AtoZChallenge

Disclaimer: This isn't exactly flash fiction. We're nearing the end of this challenge, and there are a lot of story ideas that I've had, or that have been recommended that I didn't get to. So here are a few very short concepts, not brought to full "flash fiction" level. Feel free to write your own story about any of these if you choose. (If you do use one of these ideas, I hope you'll come back here and let me know!)

With no further ado, and in no particular order:

What if... the Queen of Sheba was a nerd? All the Bible tells us is that she was rich and talked long hours with Solomon, very interested in his wisdom. When he showed her all his wealth, she added to it more gold, spices, fabrics, etc. But the main thing was talking and listening to his wisdom. (I Kings 10:1-13) I think the general impression is of a rich, beautiful queen. But why? Nothing is ever said of her beauty. Or her family. Maybe she never married. She traveled with a huge retinue, not a king or consort. A queen, solo, off to find out if this guy was as smart and rich as everyone said he was. What if it was more like a real life D&D quest?

What if...dragons really did exist? In the book of Job, "leviathan" is described as a fierce creature, and even goes so far as to talk of his breathing fire. Granted, it's in a poetic passage, so probably metaphorical, but there's a whole chapter about leviathan. What if? (Job 41)

King Solomon had 700 wives and 300 concubines. (I Kings 11:3) What must it have been like to live in that harem? What if... the place they lived was like the brothel in the musical Best Little Whorehouse in Texas?

Nothing, nowhere states or gives the impression that Mary of Magdalene was a prostitute or Jesus' lover. That is purely pop culture (possibly stemming from the musical Jesus Christ Superstar). What is told is that he removed 7 demons from her, and that she was a devout follower, as were several other women. (Luke 8: 1-3) I wanted to write some kind of story to set this straight, but couldn't think of a good angle.  What if... she missed the demons that had possessed her?

The Bible contains numerous visions and prophecies. I've written about some prophecies, generally with an understanding that they must have seemed incredibly confusing at the time. But what about the times someone interprets a dream? Joseph interpreted his dreams and Pharaoh's. Daniel interpreted for the king of Babylon. How did they know they got it right? Was there a tingling in the brain? Did they hear God's voice and simply repeat? What if... they got it wrong? (Of course, any misinterpretations wouldn't have been included in the Bible.)

I was trying to find an angle to tell the story of Samson and Delilah, but I couldn't think of anything unusual. How beautiful and charming must she have been to have him so snowed that he gave up the secret of his strength to her? (Judges 16:1-22) What if... he wised up sooner, left her, and never was taken captive?

Vendetta - #AtoZChallenge

"C'mon, Dad. We've said we will lead these people through the desert. We can't just show them where to go and hope they'll follow. You think this mob will just go as a big ol' crowd together? There's already been infighting and it's only been weeks since they left Egypt." Jesus looked at his father, knowing the answer was there, just waiting for inspiration.

Jehovah sighed. "Son, they are just so rebellious. We parted the sea for them, and it's like they forgot already. I'm beginning to regret the covenant." Nevertheless, a covenant was a covenant. He had to do something.

"Yeah, true. We'll have to sharpen that up a bit. Show consequences. Let them see that we're on their side. Meanwhile, we have to find a way to get them moving without sniping at each other. And without driving Moses distracted with petty squabbles. If he's going to lead, how can we help?"

Sanctu sat off to the side. "Sat" might be an exaggeration. The white vapor floated above the discussion, looking down at the tribes of Israel settled in disarray far below the Holy Trinity, trying to survive, always on the edge, tensions running high. Even in a random clump, Sanctu felt the chaos within the camp. She descended to hover between the Father and Son. "A little organization goes a long way."

Jehovah and his son looked on, inspired by the short statement. That was Sanctu's role, after all - inspiration. "Yes," said Jehovah, and he leaned back, bracing his head between interlaced fingers. In a minute he added, "Tribe by tribe. Call Moses. We'll talk."

"Are you sure?" Sanctu asked. "Tribe by tribe is great, but which tribe by which tribe? In what order?" She had another good point. These were not just going to be marching orders, but camping orders. It was a good idea that needed fine-tuning.

Jesus placed a plexiglass grid over their view of the mess of tents and herds and people that sufficed for the Israelite camp. "Shall we do the camp first?" He looked at his partners. "If we decide how the camp should be arranged, that will inform the order they travel." The others agreed.

It took hours. 

"No-no! We cannot put the tribe of Simeon next to Benjamin! Simeon was forced to stay in Egypt while Joseph waited for his mother-brother Benjamin. Do you think it's forgotten?" Jehovah knew their hearts and minds.

"Oh, good point. A vendetta's brewing there, for sure. Let's give them space." Jesus moved things around for a minute.

Sanctu watched, then offered a gentle suggestion. "I really think Rachel's descendants are best kept together." Jacob had two wives, Rachel and her sister Leah. The rivalry between them  might reignite in their descendants at any time. Sanctu was, as always, on point.

"What about the handmaids?" Jesus took Sanctu's idea to the next level. The two wives had two servants, who had also borne children for him.

In the end, the Holy Trinity - Father, Son, and Spirit - looked at the grid. The tribes descended from the two sisters would be on opposite sides of the tabernacle. The tribes of the handmaids provided a buffer. "I think that's the best we can do." Jesus looked around for confirmation.

Jehovah smiled. "Wait a few centuries. We'll be watching them going through this 'who can be next to who' issue for personal events like weddings." They all laughed. "Now. Let's get Moses up here on the mountain. We have some explaining to do."

Reference: The marching orders for the Israelites are given in the book of  Numbers, chapter 2. It was during my recent rereading of this passage that I looked up - Genesis 29:31 - 30:24 - and realized which tribes came from which mother. Seeing that the layout of the camp separated sister from sister and handmaid from handmaid was too amusing not  to write about it. (I wrote about the Simeon issue here, for letter B.)

United Front - #AtoZChallenge

I kicked Bartholomew's foot as he lay, blinking his eyes open. "Hey," I whispered, "Here comes Judas."  No one had seen him since the middle of our Passover meal. We'd left for the garden later, but it seemed he'd found us now. Now Jesus was trying to get us all to wake up from our snoozing, but Bartholomew was always a heavy sleeper.

Just as Bartholomew sat up, and asked, "Who's that coming with him?" Jesus turned and I could swear I heard him say, "Here comes my betrayer." Peter, who was standing next to Jesus, must have heard the same thing because he turned to look at Him in horror. 

As Judas and those with him passed under the shadows of the trees, I saw their clubs and swords. We were all on our feet now, alert but confused. Judas? Our friend, surrounded by this mob? 

But at a motion from Judas, the mob stopped and he stepped closer. He looked around at us with a tight-lipped smile, then crossed to Jesus and gave him a kiss. "Greetings, Rabbi!" he said. It would all have been perfectly normal, but for the crowd around him. One of the men in front - a temple guard, to guess the uniform - seized Jesus. 

It was chaos. I stumbled over Bartholomew as he got to his feet. The guard led Jesus away while the mob held us back. I saw a determined look in Judas' eye as he turned to follow the guard. Then he was gone. We were all shouting, cursing Judas for bringing this about. Didn't he realize the danger? 

Then I remembered a conversation I'd had with Judas one day about the coming "second kingdom". The Messiah was to usher it in, and didn't we all believe Jesus to be the Messiah? Judas and I were both anxious for this new kingdom but he seemed... overly passionate, maybe volatile. He was frustrated that Jesus wasn't doing enough. 

Lost in thought, I looked up when I heard James confronting one of the other disciples. "No, we can't all go. How would that look?" All? I counted heads - only nine of us were here. Judas was gone, of course, and it looked like John and Peter had followed the crowd back into Jerusalem. James looked to Andrew for support.

"James is right," Andrew said, ever the voice of reason. "We can't help him if we get arrested, too. We should go back to the upper room. John or Peter will be able to get word to us there."

On our way back through town, Thomas walked next me. "Simon - you were closer to Judas than I was. What was he up to? What's his plan?"

"I have no idea," I confessed. "I wish I did." He'd been our friend! And Thomas was right. I had been close with him. I'd trusted him! We all had. I had to hope he had a plan.

It was late. We'd all been drinking wine with the Passover meal. We were all tired, but apart from our recent light dozing in the garden, none of us would get any sleep this night. Back in the upper room, some reclined at the tables abandoned after supper, but more of us were agitated - pacing, arguing, wondering. It was pointless. The night drew on, with no word from John or Peter. We were in a panic, while trying not to panic. We knew Judas. Jesus knew Judas. Surely it would all be okay. But why hadn't Peter or John sent any kind of message? Or had they been taken prisoner, too? Were we next? James began saying something about "a united front". We weren't fighters, but we all had to be strong and stand together, whatever happened.

The stars were fading and the sky was lightening to grey when there came a pounding on the door. We all froze. "Let me in!" came the cry. It was Judas' voice. I was about to lunge for the door, but James was standing there and raised a hand. Andrew nodded and mouthed to the rest of us, "United."

James answered him through the door, "What's happened?"

"Let me in! I'll tell you everything!" James anchored his hand over the latch on the door, covering it. What if that mob from the garden was standing behind him in the hall?

"Where is Jesus?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way!" Judas sounded worried and apologetic.

"What way?" Thomas called out to him.

I heard a weight against the door and guessed that Judas had leaned his head against it. We all heard a shuddering inhale and exchanged looks. Was he crying? But Andrew reminded us to stay united. We needed more information.

Now Judas' voice came through the door, full of sorrow, muffled, as if reasoning to himself. "He's supposed to usher in the new kingdom. This should've worked. He wasn't doing anything! He wasn't -" Then his voice came through loud and clear. "I did this for us. He could have overcome them, but he didn't!"

I groaned. I knew he was passionate about the new kingdom, but this? A tight knot formed in my stomach. I could feel bile rising as I guessed what the next bombshell would be. We were all clustered around the door now. "Judas," I said. We were friends. He trusted me. "What. Have you. Done."

A shaky sob came through and I heard a weight hit the door - his hand? His head? "I didn't - I can't - They want to crucify him," the pronouncement came out weakly. Judas was just as exhausted as the rest of us, I realized. I wanted to let him in to join us, but we had to stay united until we knew everything.

Inside the room, silence reigned. I saw Bartholomew crouch down and breathe deeply, steadying himself; Philip and the other James collapsed onto seats. Crucifixion was a Roman punishment. How could this be? I bolstered myself with the hope that this could never happen. The priests and pharisees who were against Jesus - and us - didn't have enough power to make that happen.

Judas was still making excuses through the door in a small voice. "I don't know how. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You have to believe me." He jiggled the door, but James held the lock fast. Andrew looked around at all of us, not speaking. We had to stay united.

In silence, he went around the room, checking each man's thoughts - should we let the traitor in, or was he out? We were split. Some wanted to let him in - hadn't Jesus taught us to forgive? Some would never trust him again. Thomas and Bartholomew shrugged their ambivalence. Bartholomew looked like he might be sick all over the floor from the pressure. 

It took another 20 minutes of whispered debate before we decided. James opened the door, but Judas was gone. We checked the hall and the lower floor. We looked out the windows into the early dawn, but there was no sign. James locked the door again. Until we had some word from Peter or John, we all agreed this was the safest place to stay.

It wasn't until four days later, after the miracle at the tomb, that we relaxed enough to go out and search for Judas. His body was found hanging in a tree, being feasted on by carrion birds.

Reference: Judas' infamous betrayal of Jesus is told in the book of  Matthew, chapter 26, verses 45-50, and his death is listed in Matthew, chapter 27, verses 3-5. He was a friend and one of the tight-knit group of disciples. That's why I wanted to tell this from the perspective of one of the disciples who'd known him so well. Betrayal only hurts when it comes from someone we trust. If an enemy betrays us, is it even betrayal?

Temple Trauma - #AtoZChallenge

Tim nodded to Simeon, seeing the aged prophet enter the temple courtyard. He couldn't greet him properly, as a customer had just approached Tim's money-changing table. The customer saw his nod and looked at the old man. "Friend of yours?" he asked. Every visitor felt a need to make small-talk.

"That's Simeon," Tim made the change for the man. "I see him around. He's waiting on the 'consolation of Israel'." The customer raised his eyebrows and moved on. Tim welcomed the next person in line. "Shalom!"

Simeon meandered the courtyard as if looking for something or someone, before settling near the stairs. Tim observed this new searching behavior with curiosity. Between customers he kept an eye on the comings and goings around Simeon - families, devout men, children distracting the animal sellers. One sweet young family had caught the eyes of everyone they passed. The baby in the woman's arms couldn't be more than two months. They were probably here to dedicate him, Tim thought. 

Between his customers, he noticed people kept stopping them on their way through the temple courtyard. Several times people wanted to coo over the baby or offer blessings to the parents. It happened often enough that Tim learned the parents' names were Mary and Joseph. As they approached the temple steps, Tim saw Simeon rise from his seat and lift his hands toward the baby. Ah! Maybe this was the family he'd been looking for earlier. Simeon began speaking to the parents.

Tim was turning back to his work when he and his customer both noticed Simeon's head jerk upward as his hand touched the top of the baby's head. His body went stiff as a board and Tim's instinct was to race over to check on him, but.. He glanced at his stunned customer and stayed put. They watched in open-mouthed horror, their transaction paused.

One hand on the baby's head, the other gripping Mary's arm, Simeon's eyes rolled back and a loud and dark voice boomed from him. "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many..." As loud as he was, the reverberation muffled some of the words. "...A sign... spoken against..." The words resounded as everyone stopped to watch. "...many hearts will be revealed." The otherworldly voice rose to a shrill pitch. "And a sword shall pierce your own soul!"

A beat later, Simeon unfroze. With a jerky movement his face turned down toward the child again. He blinked at the wide-eyed mother as if in a daze. Smiling benignly, he removed his hands from mother and child and resumed his seat on the steps. The father stared down at Simeon and ushered his family up the steps to the temple, through a path that now cleared around them.

Tim turned back to his customer, who glanced over to where Simeon sat back down unaware of what he'd done. The customer looked at Tim warily, gathered back the money he'd been about to change, turned, and left the temple courtyard.

Reference: The presentation of the baby Jesus at the temple is told in the book of  Luke, chapter 2, verses 21-38. Simeon comes into it in verses 25-35. Not much is said about who he is, and although the words he says are given, nothing explains the manner in which he spoke, or Mary's reaction. What do you think of my take on it? How would you react? Belief? Skepticism? Annoyance?

Skin - #AtoZChallenge

Eve slurped the juice off from around her mouth. This was a delicious kind of fruit! "Hey Adam! Come try this!" She could feel a tingling in her head. Not from the taste. She took another bite, to be sure. There was a surge inside her brain, she could feel it in her eyes. Something was changing.

As Adam approached, Eve turned her head curiously. He was the same Adam she knew, but somehow looked... different to her. What was it? Her mind seemed to have opened. Sparks were igniting inside. Dumbfounded at the sensations, she held out to Adam the fruit in her open red palm, still trying to make sense of what was happening. Every muscle, red. Veins in blue and red. Red. This was wrong. He was wrong.

He ate, and while he chewed, she watched the raw muscles of his face and jaw working. Muscles. He nodded in agreement that this was, indeed, delicious. Then his eyeballs brightened. Eyeballs. She watched the red, fibrous muscles of his neck move, repulsed. That one blue vein pulsed as he looked up into the trees. Veins. In the tree the serpent was twining his way among branches and vines. Adam was fascinated at the movement.

As Adam turned around on the garden with new eyes, seeing things afresh, Eve watched in horror. Why could she see their inner workings? She reached out as if to touch the stretchy, red, fibers of his torso, but he saw the movement and flinched back, as if seeing the naked bones, muscles and tendons of her hand for the first time.

"What have you done?" he asked. 

She pulled back her hand, feeling a strange, stinging moisture leaking from around her eyeballs onto the bones and muscles of her cheek. "I don't know. The serpent said..."

"You're naked!" he exclaimed. Looking at his own gesturing arm he added, "We're naked." He turned his hand over in front of his eyes. "This isn't right."

All she could do was nod. It was a mistake. 

He was quicker to action. "We shouldn't see this ugly, red, blood, fiber, muscle... quick, we need to cover it. Protect ourselves!"

They began pulling leaves off a nearby fig tree, and tied and stitched some of them together using grassy reeds from the riverside. They sat, back-to-back, working as fast as they could. Eve kept glancing back at Adam, embarrassed. He felt her shoulder twitch each time she moved, and refused to meet her eye. It was too grotesque!

A strong breeze moved through the trees behind them. The gentle voice of the maker came on the breeze. "Where are you?" 

They cringed behind the tree, for all the good it would do them. Adam's arm pressed against Eve's and she pushed him out from behind the tree. Suddenly, today, now, after all this time - the feel of his pulsing muscles in contact with her own revolted her. Caught off guard, Adam stammered, "Oh - I - uh, that is, we uh, hid. We're a bit - embarrassed. At being naked."

"Naked? Who told you that?" In no time, Adam had spilled the beans about Eve and the serpent. How she had eaten the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Their maker sighed in disappointment. It was his one rule: Don't eat from that tree. 

For a moment, Adam turned back to Eve, still hiding behind the tree. She saw something like hope in his eyes. The maker had been nothing but good and kind. Surely this would all work out. But when he spoke again, it was not in his usual gentle tones. He bellowed curses at the serpent, who promptly fell out of the tree and slithered away on his belly in accordance with the maker's words.

Eve sighed in relief. They were okay. It was really the serpent who erred. Then the maker turned to her and doled out curses on both her and Adam. She took comfort in the fact that they did not sound immediate. Certainly, she wouldn't feel the pains of child birth as quickly as that serpent was relegated to the ground. As soon as the curses were completed, all went black.

When Adam and Eve awoke, their muscles, veins, bones, everything, was covered with a thin membrane of some earthy, light brown color. When Eve turned her arm in amazement, examining this new garment of skin, she could see through it in some places to the blue veins within. She reached out to touch Adam, who didn't flinch. There were new sensations to explore through this strange skin garment. Maybe they would be okay.

Reference: The fall into sin is told in the book of   Genesis, chapter 3. In verse 21 we are told that God made "garments of skin" them. One time I read that and just wondered "what if they weren't actual garments made of animal skins?" What if the "garment of skin" was just... skin? What do you think? Fascinating? Gross? Too sacrilegious to think of?

Resentment - #AtoZChallenge

I wasn't too sad when my little brother left home. It was typical, you know? Just another "whatever" moment. Theoretically, I should have been pissed. He asked Dad for his inheritance - can you imagine? Our living, thriving father? - and just took off with his share. But honestly, I always did most of the work anyway. It made little difference to my life that he was gone.

It was just the nerve, you know?

Did it bug me that our father went ahead and gave him his part of our inheritance? Sure, a bit. What was that about? But then again, now if I work hard and the income builds for the family, that's more for me in the end, right? Baby bro' skedaddled - he's out! So, fine. I can work with that.

And I did. I worked hard. "Yes, father," "Of course, father," "Not a problem at all" when it was really a huge annoyance, but I could manage it anyway. We're doing great. Dad, me, the staff. He's getting older, slower, and leaves a lot of the decisions up to me. It's good. As it should be.

Now, years after running off and living god-knows-where doing god-knows-what horrible things, he - again with the nerve! - he's coming back? I heard rumors in town yesterday that he'd been seen on the road heading this way. He wouldn't dare.

...

Next day, I'm walking back in from the fields and even from a distance I can see excessive activity near the house. "What's going on?" I wonder aloud to the field hand with me. He shrugs. We'd both been out in the fields since dawn. He knew as much as I did.

A little closer we can see clear evidence that one of the fattened calves has been slaughtered. A feast? But why? And as we emerge around to the front of the house, I can see neighbors arriving. There stands Dad and... no. Couldn't be. He's back? He really did it? And Dad stands there with his arm around my kid brother - this virtual stranger, a man I can barely recognize, greeting our friends and neighbors as if we should all celebrate him for squandering Dad's money?

No. Just... no. I turn on my heel and head off to the wood-working shed. I won't be a part of this. I am not going to celebrate. 

In the years since he left, I've taken whatever spare minutes I can find to practice wood carving and building. The woodworking shed is my haven. It's become my favorite hobby, and I'm good at it - furniture, artistic work, whatever anyone needs. Being in here, with the smell of sawdust and wood shavings, I can lose myself in my work. That is all I need right now. Maybe the scene outside will fade and disappear.

Dad must have seen me turn in here. It doesn't take long for him to arrive. "Son? Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Your brother's back."

Focused on the chair I was sanding, I answered, "My brother is dead." But it wasn't enough. I stood, looked my father in the eye and said, "He left me behind to do everything for you! You never once gave me so much as a goat to have a party. And now? You celebrate him with a whole calf?!" I was fuming.

My father nodded, then picked up a doll I'd been working on for a friend. Rolling it in his hands, he said, "You could have anything you want. All you had to do was ask." He put the doll back and looked at me. "Don't you see? Your brother - who, yes, was dead to us - is alive! He's back with us. I must celebrate. I hope you will, too." He turned and left.

Naturally. Of course Dad would celebrate. I picked up my plane and smoothed it over some planks held together on my workbench. Hunger after a long day's work was growing in my belly, but I could at least finish this piece. Eventually, though, my baser instincts took over. "No point in starving," I muttered as I closed the woodshed and headed up to the house.

I tried to slip into the feast unobtrusively, just to grab a bite, but my brother saw me and tore across the hall, weaving through people to get to me. Here it was. My chance to tell him off.

Before I could speak he was on me. "Brother! I'm so, so, sorry!" were his first words as he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. I was dumbfounded. My arms hung limp at my sides. A hug? Was this all an act? What was he playing at? But then I could feel him shaking and hear a sob gasp from him. "I've been a fool," he moaned into my shoulder, now wet with his tears. I put my hands on his back, returning the hug in a fashion. He leaned back from me and looked me in the eyes. There was no mistaking the contrition on his face. "Can you ever forgive me?" Still unable to speak, I felt my head involuntarily give a tiny nod, and he slid to my side. "Come, sit by me and tell me everything. I'm here to pull my weight."

Makes one wonder what happened to him in those intervening years. Only time will tell if the change will last, but for now, I guess I should get used to having my brother back.

Reference: The parable of the prodigal son is told in the book of  Luke, chapter 15, verses 11-32. I always wonder about the older brother  - it could go so many ways. The story is written focused on the younger brother and the father, with the older brother's negative reaction told at the end in verses 25-32. How would you feel in this situation? What if you were the younger brother?

Queen Jezebel - #AtoZChallenge

The servant bowed to the queen and left to fetch more wine. Queen Jezebel watched him leave with a smile of satisfaction. All was going well. She was entertaining the prophets of Baal - a key step in maintaining her power. One must keep the devout satisfied with food and wine.

When the servant reappeared with the wine, her husband the king was mere steps behind. He pushed through the curtained doorway, a deep scowl on his down-turned face. She watched him cross the room to the side table where the servant poured him a goblet of wine. Something was wrong.

Her prophets discreetly gave him space, but it wasn't enough. Jezebel clapped her hands to get their attention. "Gentlemen, please leave us!" They did as they were bid, leaving half-drunk cups and not-yet-empty plates on nearby tables, window ledges, or any surface available. The servant remained near the table to pour wine. She caught his eye and made a quick movement of her head toward the door. He scurried out.

Ordinarily, she'd greet King Ahab by moving closer and putting a hand on his arm, or some other gentle touch. His face told her this was not the moment. She watched him drain his goblet and pour another, not touching any of the delicate dishes and edible delights spread around the serving table. "What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just - Naboth won't sell me his vineyard!" He was used to getting his way. He was the king, after all. Jezebel scowled. He was king, but she was much at utilizing their position.

"So?" she asked, crossing the room toward him. He turned to her in surprise. Only his queen could speak to him like that. "Aren't you the King of Israel?" She took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. With a smile she said, "Cheer up. Eat something. I'll get you that vineyard." It was gratifying to see a relaxed smile on his face at her words. 

She left the room and sent the servant in to attend to him.

After a brief campaign of letters and messengers, all was in place. The city elders of Naboth's town proclaimed a major event for all the people to attend - such a thing had never been seen! Naboth attended as expected. Jezebel's lackeys were there, too. They spread rumors and lies. "Naboth! He doesn't deserve to be here!" "Don't you know he has cursed the king?" The crowd was easily riled up. Soon Naboth found himself being forced out of the city. Stones rained down on him.

That evening, Queen Jezebel accepted a private messenger into the chamber where she and King Ahab were dining. "My liege," the messenger bowed deeply to the king, then turned to Jezebel. "Naboth has been stoned and is dead." She gave an elegant nod, and he backed away the way he had entered.

A wicked smile crept across her face. "There you are, my king. Go. Take that vineyard you like. There is nothing in your way now."

Reference: The full story of Naboth's vineyard is told in the book of  I Kings, chapter 21. This particular portion of the story is based on verses 4-15. I feel as though people use "Jezebel" in relation to loose morals. We are not told anything about that. She was, IMHO, more like a power-hungry, evil, murderous woman.The Bible mentions Jezebel a few more times, but I like this story for its perfect "someone is in my way so I must murder them" vibe. Do you have any associations with the name "Jezebel"?

Progeny of a Prostitute - #AtoZChallenge

Rahab fixed the bedding in her suite, sprayed a sweet-smelling mist into the air, and returned downstairs to see if there was another client. The city of Jericho was quiet this evening; she didn't expect much business. 

Down in the lounge, her brother - who served as the bouncer of Rahab's brothel - nodded in the direction of two strangers, travelers by the look of their clothes, seated at a table in the corner. That silent nod meant they had already paid. Two of her girls were attending them, but Rahab joined them anyway. The big one intrigued her.

Seeing her mistress coming, one of the girls got up and moved away. Rahab nodded to the other girl. "Mishal, I believe we have two rooms available upstairs. Let's lead the way for these men."As they walked, Rahab made small-talk. It was her way to set new guests at ease. "I don't recognize you, where are you men from?" she asked, slipping an arm through the crook in the big man's elbow.

"We're Is-" The other one started, but Rahab noticed his companion swat his hand as they climbed the stairs and he closed his mouth again. 

"Too personal?" Rahab smiled. Where they were from didn't matter. "May we know your names? What should we call you?"

The man on her elbow answered. "I am Salmon. This is Josiah." 

"Sal-mon." She tasted his name on her tongue. "I have not heard such a name before." 

At the top of the stairs, they took rooms across from each other. Later, as Rahab rose from her bed, Salmon relaxed and told her an amazing tale. Her gentle questions had prodded him to confess that he and Josiah were Israelites - the very people who were camped in the land outside the city walls! 

"But what are you doing here? Why have you come to me?" Rahab knew the king and all the people were concerned about that mob of people and everything they'd done to other cities as they traveled. "You have brought danger to my house!"

"It's done," he answered. "We know what we came to find out."

A distant shout and clatter of hooves racing through the streets drifted in the window. "Follow me," Rahab said, and pulled him from the bed. She knocked on the door across and collected his friend. "These men are leaving," she told Mishal. "You can have the rest of the night off."

She hurried them men out onto the flat roof and covered them with old baskets and blankets. "Wait here." Down in the house, her steps slowed to her usual relaxed pace. In the lounge, her brother had sent the other girls home for lack of business. She took a sip of sweet wine to compose herself. The noise outside grew louder. Soon enough, fists pounded on the door. "Go," she told her brother. "Let them in."

He did as she requested, and a man in a king's guard uniform stood there. "Urgent message from your king." He said. He opened a scroll while Rahab sashayed over to join the group of men standing in her doorway. "By order of the King of Jericho, I am to take the men who came to your house tonight. They were sent as spies." He rolled up the scroll and all eyes turned to Rahab. 

Rahab gave an apologetic little laugh. "Oh! My! Yes, there were two travelers who came in, but earlier, when the city gate was closing, they left. You may yet catch up with them outside the city if you go fast." Her house was near the city gate, built into the wall. It was not uncommon for her guests to leave right as the gate was closing. This guard knew that well.

He stared into her eyes for a moment. Then, satisfied, he turned and led his squad back out into the city streets. Rahab's brother bolted the door. "What -?" But Rahab just shook her head and raced back up to the roof. 

She pulled the baskets and blankets away and confronted Salmon. "There. I have just saved your lives. Now I know your people will take this city. Repay my kindness by saving my family when you bring back your armies to take Jericho."

"Our lives for your lives!" the astounded men agreed. She let them out through a window in the city wall and watched them leave. 

Then the waiting began. The worst thing was knowing what was going to happen, but not knowing when. It seemed to take forever. A month was well past before the citizens of Jericho could look out on the Israelite armies. Rahab gathered her family into her house set in the wall. Business stopped and her girls were dismissed. The city was on tenterhooks. How much longer could it take? 

One day as they ate together in the tightly locked house, her mother looked at her and said, "There is something different. You have that look of -" she sucked in a breath. "Oh, Rahab." She put a hand on Rahab's abdomen. A mother could always tell. Rahab closed her eyes and said, "It will be fine."

On the day the walls of Jericho fell, Salmon and Josiah entered the city first. They came to Rahab's door and called in. "Come!" Salmon shouted. "It's time!"

Time indeed. Rahab's family streamed out and were led safely out of harms way. In due time, Rahab had Salmon's baby. She didn't know it yet, but in time she would be remembered as the great(x30)-grandmother of Jesus.

Reference: The story of Rahab saving the Israelite spies is told in the book of  Joshua, chapter 2, verses 1-21, and her part in the genealogy of the Messiah is listed in Matthew, chapter 1, verse 5. I left out a lot of the Biblical detail, and filled in my own fictional assumptions. I love this as yet another example of God using the looked-down on (in this case, a prostitute) to further his plan. Can we all agree that EVERYone has value?

Open-minded - #AtoZChallenge

Hosea's brother stood gaping at the woman standing with Hosea on the doorstep. He was blocking the way in, not saying a word, just staring. "Um, Jessup?" Hosea started.

Jessup's eyes never left Gomer. "Hosea -?" he drawled, dumbfounded. Hosea took a deep breath and put an arm around her. He asked acidly, "Aren't you going to invite us in, little brother?"

Finally dragging his eyes away from the gorgeous Gomer, Jessup began, "Who... I mean what is-" Obviously he recognized her. Hosea sighed. He should have expected as much. He pushed past his brother, arm firmly around Gomer's waist, tugging her along with him. "Yeah, thanks, bro," he said as he passed. Was it his imagination, or did Gomer give a smile and a wink to Jessup?

Inside the house, his mother's greeting was warmer. "Well, hi there! I didn't know you'd be joining us!" She kissed him on the cheek, then observed his companion. "And what a lovely - lady friend," a questioning tone, "you've brought along with you." She touched Gomer's exposed arm briefly before saying, "I'll just set an extra couple of places at the table."

He relaxed a little. At least his mother didn't seem to have a biased opinion of her. 

When his father arrived and sat at the head of the table, everyone followed suit. As the dishes passed, before anyone's plate had filled, Hosea spoke up. "I have an announcement to make." Everyone turned to him and he tensed. This wouldn't go well. "I, that is - we -" he held Gomer's hand above the table. " - are going to be married."

"What?!" exclaimed Jessup in horror. Their father's jaw dropped open and his eyebrows clenched together. Only his mother responded with more typical puzzlement. "This is a bit sudden." She turned to Gomer with an apologetic look, barely masking her suspicious glance down to the woman's abdomen. With a smile she told her, "We barely know you, dear."

Jessup blushed scarlet but said nothing. Hosea was about to explain but couldn't get a word out before his father exploded the silence. "The hell we don't! You may not know her, dear, but I recognize this woman as one of the -" Would he say it? He struggled for a moment, finally saying, "Gomer here is one of the 'loose women' who hang around the temple during the week." He turned accusing eyes on her. "Aren't you?" 

Hosea loved her even more for the way she took the accusation. It wasn't untrue. She raised her chin and looked his father in the eye, a soft smile on her face. For a fleeting moment, Hosea wondered if his father had ever been with her. He assumed his brother had, based on his reaction to her. "Stop," he told his dad, halting the words that were about to come from his mother. "You won't believe me, but -" he took a deep breath. "This marriage is ordained by God." He was not surprised by the uproar that statement caused. His father flung up his hands with a grunt of disgust; Jessup actually laughed out loud, and his mother covered her mouth for a moment before getting up and beginning clear the untouched dishes. "If you could just be open to hearing what I was told by the Lord!"

"Oh, stop it now!" His father said. "The Lord is speaking to you? Speaking? To you? You must take us for fools." The argument raged on. Dinner was forgotten. Gomer sat silently listening to everything. She had expected this. His high hopes that his family would be open to trust his words had not convinced her for a minute. In this world, in this climate, his claim of divine intervention would not fly. She knew. It was how it must be.

Reference: In the book of  Hosea, chapter 1, verses 1 and 2, the prophet Hosea is told by God to take "an adulterous wife" or "a wife of whoredom" or "a wife of prostitution" depending on which translation you choose. Everything that happens in the following chapters is intended as an example of how the Israelites "prostituted themselves" by worshipping other gods. Hosea had several children with Gomer, some from him, some with unknown fathers. Can you imagine? I'd like to point out here that, although sexual immorality is decried throughout the Bible, there are several examples of God using prostitutes to further his plan. So, maybe we should be a little less judgy and more loving to EVERYone?

Nineveh - #AtoZChallenge

Nineveh was teeming with people. The annual music festival had just ended. It had grown in past years to the point where even the week before and after were crazy with tourists - lingering music fans and newly arrived gawkers - determined to keep the party going.

Ben and Junias sat near the city gate, having a drink while watching people pass through the guarded gates. Someone got into an argument with the guard and was sent home. They laughed. "Ah, see? You always have to be nice to the ones in charge!" Ben said.

"He'll know better for next year." 

"Innkeeper! Two more!" 

They were laughing at a trio trying to stuff everything back into one of their bags after it spilled in the road, when Junias noticed a tense looking man trying to get around them. "He doesn't look like a party-er," he said, pointing him out. Ben took a drink and angled his head, as if to make sense of the one very serious, uptight looking man standing out like a sore thumb in the middle of the noisy, laughing revelers. 

He was looking around, trying to find something or someone. Striding with determination toward the nearby intersection, the two friends saw him climb onto an upturned crate and raise his arms. "Repent!" he cried out. "Repent from your evil ways!" 

"Oh, not this again," Junias said. Every year, some ascetic or group of reformers would come and try to tamp down the festivities. "Isn't he a bit late?"

A prostitute approached him from a nearby doorway, her covering dipping dangerously low beneath her neck as if to give him a peek and a thrill. She got close enough to reach out and touch the cuff of his sleeve. He jerked back and stared down at her. "The Lord has seen your wickedness!" 

A group of rowdy boys strutted over to knock him down. He saw them and shouted "You have 40 days!" before jumping down and getting lost in the crowd that was moving toward the city center.

"Crazy," Ben said, shaking his head. Junias drained his cup. "I better go."

"Can't keep the wife waiting, huh? See you tomorrow." Ben stayed where he was a while longer. The stream of people passing in and out of the gate grew more chaotic before it tapered off around dark. All that night, a cacophony of music and partying could be heard throughout the city.

At Junias' house, his wife was telling him about coming home from the market. "I was running late, you know, had to get back to make dinner, and this - this - I don't know - crazy man? - had stopped traffic, shouting about the destruction of the city."

"Really? I think I saw that guy come in. Was anyone listening?"

"Mm, some maybe. I think more were jeering and telling him to get out of the way."

"Typical. There's one every year, isn't there?"

"Yeah, but - this guy seemed really serious. There's something different about him, if you ask me."

Two days later the king declared a city-wide fast. "Fast! Pray! Turn away from violence!" The prophet Jonah had convinced the king that the entire city needed to repent or risk destruction.

"You have got to be kidding me," Junias said when his wife declined to serve him breakfast the next morning. It was going to be a long 40 days. Stupid prophets.

Reference: This second part of Jonah's story is in the book of  Jonah, chapter 3. Credit to Lu of Lulu-By Place, who left as a suggestion on my Theme Reveal post "a citizen of Nineveh". What other Bible stories, or other perspectives would you be interested in?

Milk - #AtoZChallenge

Jael waited patiently in the tent. She tried to go about her business as normal, but couldn't deny the tense knot in her belly. The distant sounds of the battle rolled down the mountainside to their camp. Thankfully her husband wasn't a fighter, but he was near the lines, tending and mending armor and weapons for their Canaanite soldiers. 

Moving through her daily routine on automatic pilot, Jael milked the goats, and prepared food for dinner, assuming her husband's return. She busied herself with as many mundane tasks as she could. When she stopped for a cup of milky mid-morning tea, she looked up to the hillside and saw the army being routed by their enemies the Israelites. They were retreating in haste down the mountain, fleeing every direction and falling under the sword. 

Back in the tent, Jael stayed quiet, praying to her gods. The battle was not too near, but would surely reach her that day - if anyone remained to fight. Was her husband even still alive? The Canaanites were losing to the Israelites, it was clear. She was going to have to make a decision to secure her future, and that of her husband, if he survived.

As fate would have it, that afternoon the tent flap rustled and she turned, prepared - she thought - for anything. The Canaanite commander, Sisera, stood there. "Come in, my lord," she said with a bow. She walked over to the entrance and looked out before pulling him inside. There was no chariot, no horses, except for the fallen ones she could see littered around the countryside. He had been running from wherever his horse and chariot fell. That was clear.

Sisera bent double, hands on his knees. "I am thirsty," he panted. "Bring me some water."

Jael gave a nod. Her decision was made. It took no thought for her to pick up the skin of fresh milk instead of the water. The milk was still warm from that morning's milking. She watched him drink until he told her, "Stand guard at the front of the tent. If anyone asks, you are alone."

She moved a stool to the entrance and took up some sewing, giving him peace to drink as much warm milk as he wanted. Soon enough, he'd fallen asleep on a pile of animal skins. She crossed over and covered him with a rug. If he awoke, she'd say she was hiding him. He didn't wake.

Jael watched his rhythmic breathing for a moment. The gods had given her an opportunity to secure her future. It was a sign. She took one last look out the front, to where she could see the Israelites slowly moving through the battlefield for the plunder. It was now or never.

Out back, she heaved on one of the long stakes that anchored the large tent. It finally pulled free.

She quietly reentered and approached the sleeping commander. This would take strength, she knew. There could be no hesitation. She grabbed her husband's hammer and drove the tent peg into Sisera's temple as he lay there on his side. Leaving him like that, tent peg, rug and all, Jael returned to the entrance of the tent.

As the Israelite commander neared, she called out to him, "Come! The man you are searching for is here!" Her future was safe. She had made the choice.

Reference: This story comes from the book of  Judges, chapter 4, with praise for Jael's heroic actions in chapter 5, verses 24-27. Honestly, I didn't change much, except that we don't know what Jael was thinking, just that she did it. Pretty gory, huh? What other Bible storis, or other perspectives would you be interested in?