Synagogue school in Bethlehem proved to be a
unique experience. Daniel thought it was
the neatest thing since the discovery that grapes could be dried into raisins.
I thought it was a poor substitute for the exciting bustle of Oaksdale High
School. The synagogue was an elaborately constructed building with beautiful
stone pillars, gleaming gold lamps, delicate candelabras, and polished wooden
benches.
Our
classroom met in a side room right off the main sanctuary. The class consisted of fifteen boys ranging
from ages five (Joel and Lucas, the youngest) to fourteen (myself second oldest
at thirteen) and our teacher, Rabbi Elijah. Wasn't a rabbi equal to a preacher
or priest in Oaksdale? The Rabbi was an older man with a snow-white beard and
hair. He sat cross-legged on a small
raised platform. His students sat in a
semi-circle around him.
Our
school day began with the reading of the Bible.
At least that's what it sounded like. We didn’t all get Bibles to read for ourselves. Instead,
portions of what appeared to be the Old Testament were written on paper-thin
scrolls. (At least this is what Daniel told me I was about to read from.)
After
the rabbi had the younger boys practice reciting from the “Psalms” scroll, he
helped the older boys read hard portions of another scroll called,
“Leviticus.” Although the brains of both
Daniel and I resided in his body, I couldn't be certain what kind of student he
was. He seemed bright, but that could be because he was feeding on my brain.
Back
in Oaksdale I was a local library junky. My library card was practically worn
out from overuse. I checked out lots of books all the time. How I missed those
days. Somehow, I knew I was going to find my way home to Oaksdale. That was a
promise.
I
swallowed hard to keep from crying. I missed my mom, and wasn’t ashamed to
think it. I didn’t care if that was the macho thing to admit or not. Right now
it was my turn to read from the ancient scrolls. I was able to concentrate
enough to finish quickly.
Everyone,
including Rabbi Elijah, sat there with mouths wide open. Oops, looks like I overdid it. The rabbi patted
me on the back and said I was a fine scholar.
Maybe I should curb that brainy thing just a bit, or I could put average
Daniel into some real hot water. The next course in our school day was writing.
We copied portions of scripture onto papyrus. It was amazing how well I was
writing in a language I’d never seen before this strange trip to Bethlehem.
Soon
school was over, and the three of us were back at the inn. The twins were
enjoying a game of tug-of-war in the courtyard with a long twisted rag. It
looked like Lucas was going to win, and Joel didn’t look too happy about it. I
looked over the twins to see Tabitha fast approaching.
"Yes,
Mother."
"I would like you to take this morning's
eggs and milk to the market for me," she said.
I
headed toward the marketplace whistling a tune from the Back to the Future Trilogy.
I wondered what the marketplace in this strange town would be like. I
smiled. No matter what, it was guaranteed to be another exciting adventure in
the weird zone.
I'd not experienced many places so alive
with the rush and scurry of human activity as the Bethlehem marketplace. (This
was of course excluding the wild weekend parties at my friend Bryce’s’ house.)
The marketplace resided primarily at the city gates. This was so the larger
merchants wouldn't lose all of their out-of-town business to the smaller food
and souvenir stands inside the city.
To a large extent, the location of the
marketplace depended on where the goods were that needed to be sold or bartered
for. I loved the excitement of this place. It reminded me of a big noisy
fifty-percent-off sale at the mall.
Children jumped, ran, and sang in the dirt roads. Merchants did their
best to strike deals with whomever strolled by their covered booths. Booths were lined abundantly with pottery
items, baskets, dessert items, tin utensils, leather goods and that wasn't
all. Some big, fancy foreign caravan was
selling donkeys, camels, sparkling purple and blue cloth, which I’m sure Tabitha
would love and also, slaves of every shape, color, and age.
I couldn’t believe it. I'd only read about
slavery in a history book, but this was the real thing, up close and personal.
It wasn’t a pretty thing. This had to be man's depraved human nature at its
worst.
I
had to turn my face quickly. Terror and
complete desperation covered the faces of those poor, unfortunate, chained
beings. They were sheep being led to a
slaughterhouse of slavery for the rest of their lives. All I could hope for
these poor souls was gentle taskmasters or freedom one day.
Had these people at one time been part of
the rich upper class or family members of debunked government officials? I could only assume they were. Their once
beautiful clothing made me wonder. There
was a hard knot developing in the pit of my stomach. I wondered how Daniel felt about this
travesty of injustice.
In my head I spoke, "Daniel doesn't
this act of cruelty anger or upset you at all? It doesn't seem fair for people
to be treated like animals. These people don't deserve this kind of treatment,
no matter what their crime was."
"Danny," he spoke very slowly and
distinctly, "I learn to live with my unfair life the way it is. I do not
like to see people being abused and treated like filthy swine. There is nothing
I can do, but hope that it will stop one day soon. I am only one person, not an
army."
I could actually feel Daniel's complete
desperation. If this were my safe home in Ohio, I wouldn't have to worry about
seeing something horrible like this. Could my mind forget this ghastly picture?
I seriously doubted it.
This scene would cause me nightmares for a
long time to come. Quickly, I turned my head and walked in the direction of the
vegetable and fruit booths. Daniel would
have to take over because I, Danny knew nothing about bargaining. I decided it would be best to trade off the
milk first because it had been spilling all over my clothes as I walked. Plus
it was heavy.
The
woman who owned the grape and pomegranate stand was supposedly a good friend of
my family; therefore, I did not get to see myself bargain. She gave me a warm,
friendly smile, asked how my mother was doing, and then inquired about my day.
I babbled on about school for a while. Boy, would her face turn red if she knew
I wasn't really Daniel.
After transferring my milk into another
bucket, she washed my bucket out with clean water and filled it up with as many
pomegranates as I could carry. I said goodbye and headed for the bean and
lentil booth. Before I got there, I couldn't help noticing something very
interesting right across the street, a Bethlehem harlot.
I'd seen those awkwardly dressed women on
the streets of downtown Oaksdale as I zoomed by in a car. I'd never seen a
harlot this close-up in broad daylight.
She didn’t appear to be ashamed to be known as one of the city’s lower
class citizens. Her brash manner did not at all make me want to be one of her
customers.
This prostitute appeared to be in her
mid-thirties. She wore excessive amounts of jangling jewelry and gaudy make-up.
Her face was painted with every kind of cosmetic imaginable. She looked more
like a circus clown than someone I would want to be intimate with. I was
spotted immediately. The prostitute began pulling her long skirt up revealing a
long, sleek leg. Being a good Jewish boy, I turned the other way and ran
quickly to the vegetable stand. In the background, I could hear a hoarse voice
screaming.
"Don't run away. Sasha will teach you how to love like a man
on her soft bed of aloes and cinnamon. Sasha is worth your money."
I wondered what could happen in a woman's
life that would cause her to sell her body to men for a living. Minutes later, as I arrived at the bean and
lentil stand, Daniel informed me I didn't know this man. I would have to
bargain with him. I put the eggs on the counter. The bearded man with the
shifty eyes looked like he'd Danny me blind if I wasn't careful and shrewd
myself.
The bidding began. He was too high. I was
too low. On and on we went. After Danny got tired of the bickering (Daniel
loved a good challenge), and customers started lining up, the man angrily
placed my eggs into another container. He filled my egg basket up halfway with
lentils.
I didn’t feel I’d gotten the best deal
possible, but I refused to argue any more with this Scrooge of a man. I smiled,
blurted out a snide "thank you," and started for home. I guess for a
guy with two brains I hadn’t done that bad. Hopefully, Tabitha would approve of
my milk, lentils, and pomegranates.
By the time I arrived home, the inn was nearly packed to its full
capacity. It seemed that there were more people here than could easily fit into
the "twelve spacious and modern rooms" that the hotel staff bragged
of. I hoped all these people were here to eat and not to spend the night.
This family shouldn't expect me to share
my room with any more people than I do now. I refused to. Tonight's dining
scene echoed this morning's breakfast, except that Joel was playing the
panpipes. "He's good," I thought. I waved at him, and he smiled back.
(I think the munchkin idolizes me.)
This evening's menu differed from a
morning meal. People sat in groups on colorful blankets. (The banquet tables
and couches were cleared away to the courtyard.) The whole room looked like a
mini-picnic area. Plates were not available. Children and adults alike were
grabbing food from the bowls in the center of each mat. Food was appearing and
disappearing faster than a magician's rabbit.
Of course, this wasn't a typical banquet
hall, but I thought it was a very clever way of packing people in like
sardines. The room vibrated with the same merriment and noise it previously had
in the morning. From the facial expressions around the room, Tabitha's baked
fish, butter and bread, onions, and tart wine were simply delicious.
"Oh no, here she comes," I thought.
Tabitha reminded me of a tornado because she was always in a whirl of activity.
I wondered if her mind or body ever completely rested.
"Daniel, you are back. Good! Did you
get the items I requested?" She asked in a gentle, but stern voice.
"Yes, Mother, did I do a good job?" I released my goods into her
strong hands.
Tabitha looked over my catch from the
marketplace like a federal fruit inspector. Pinch a little here. Shake a little
there. Finally, a big grin on her face told me I had passed the bartering test
with flying colors.
"Daniel, you did just fine. This is
even better than what I could do myself," she confessed. My heart was
pounding loudly. I was proud to be her son at this moment in time.
"Mom" patted me on the back,
winked at me, and gave me orders to help the teenage girl at the door. The girl
washed the hands and feet of the incoming guests. Tabitha scurried to the
courtyard to bake more fish on the large brazier grill. Her hired servants
prepared lentils and pomegranates for the patrons to consume.
I proceeded over to the door where Koa and
the teenage girl (about Daniel's age) were. A few more people straggled in for
the remainder of the evening meal. Daniel told me Koa's food and lodging prices
were the most reasonable in Bethlehem.
Dinner, the next morning's breakfast, and nightly lodging were two
denarii coins. A single meal was a denarius coin (around 44 cents in US
coinage, a soldier's daily wage).
A chill of excitement ran up and down my
back as that foxy female foot washer with fabulous hips winked at me. You wouldn't catch me washing the hands and
feet of everyone who walked through the door. Why wasn't anyone wearing shoes?
I looked and noticed all shoes were neatly
piled against the wall. Monkey see, monkey do.
My sandals came off and were put in the pile. Tabitha liked a clean floor. She'd cleaned it
three times since I'd arrived this morning. I knew she was the original
beginner of the "no shoes in the house" rule.
The time came for my sweet female angel to
perform her assigned cleaning job on my limbs. As she cleansed my hands and
feet, I got the feeling this gal had a major crush on me. She enjoyed this job more than what was
normal.
Daniel informed me this was the young girl
Koa had chosen for him to marry in the future. The date was set for two years
from now. I was thrilled for Daniel, but unless I got back to Oaksdale in the
next couple of years or days Rhona would become my wife also. Rhona was
probably a very lovely girl.
She would have made any man a proud
husband, but there was no love in my heart for her. Part of me barely knew
her. Mom (Marjorie Philman) always
taught me marriage was for life. "Son," she said, "carefully choose
the right wife the first time, and you'll have your best friend for life."
Rhona reminded me of those magnificently
shaped gals that worked at the Lavery's Food Mart back in Oaksdale. She
maneuvered around just like one of their female cashier fantasies. I adored them. If I were in love with anyone,
Lyna would be my choice. She's fun to be
with, and I think she even cares about me.
Her problem centers on whether she wants to become my steady girlfriend
or not. Can a guy ever completely figure
out a woman? It’s not possible.
The rest of the evening passed quickly.
After the night's meal, the female patrons either helped Tabitha clean up the
dining room area, or headed down to the marketplace to snatch up the last of
the day's baubles and trinkets for their families before the sun went down. Why
would paying customers help with the work? Maybe it was some kind of tradition
common in these parts? Men of all ages gathered in the rocky place behind the
barn to have their man-to-man talk.
This turned out to be no more than a time to
degrade women. Whose wife was the
strongest, most productive, had the prettiest face or best rear end or
breasts? Which man had the most
children? Which man had to pay the
highest dowry to marry his wife? It
sounded like they were talking about furniture or cattle at an auction. What a
bunch of male chauvinist pigs. To my
great delight, Koa wasn't present in the group of men.
The long day finally ended. I lay on my
pallet slipping into unconsciousness. As the lamps were blown out, a gentle
breeze wafted through the window. Before turning in for the evening, the whole
family had to say their goodnights. There was Tabitha to Koa, Koa to me, and Joel
to Lucas. The combinations seemed endless.
I wasn't about to participate in a dramatization of The Walton’s bedtime
routine. Soon, everyone in the room was quiet, and I went into a deep exhausted
sleep.
For
the second time, I was jolted awake on my pallet. It took me a few moments to
realize who I was, and where I was. I,
Danny L. Philman, wasn't at home in a soft bed in Oaksdale dreaming this whole
thing up. I was Daniel ben Koa lying on a doormat in a no-thrills town called
Bethlehem. Reality was Koa was standing at the foot of my mat demanding me to
get up. Wasn't it just minutes ago that
I went to sleep? From the darkness in the room, it had to be around midnight or
one in the morning.
While Koa, Tabitha, and I went to attend the
guests that were knocking at our front door, the twins slept peacefully. Tabitha wanted them to get their rest. What
about me? I’d worked hard all day long, and had the aches and pains in my back
and limbs to prove it.
Right now I envied the twins with every fiber
in my body. Yes, these rude patrons
meant money for the family coffers, but what an inconvenience! I woke desperately needing my beauty sleep,
or I'd be an ugly, mean ogre later on in the day. If this was an emergency, I'd
offer a hand of assistance, but I doubted it was. Most likely, a rich
out-of-towner would flaunt his money around if we'd give him a room.
This small town had been very crowded
today (except for that slow period when I got home from synagogue school). I
might as well grin and bear it. I wanted to hurry up and get this hospitality
stuff over with so I could get back to sleep. Who on earth would wake someone up
this early in the morning?
The
streets of Bethlehem were nearly void of movement or sound except for the
occasional hissing or barking of a stray cat or dog. A drizzling rain had wet
down the slumbering town. From the light of a smoky olive oil lamp, a poorly
dressed man and woman moved into my view.
The lady appeared young, tall, and
extremely pregnant. In fact, her sandaled feet almost touched the ground as she
sat sidesaddle on her tiny gray donkey. I estimated the young mother-to-be at
about fifteen years of age. Too bad we had to meet this way; she looked like
the kind of girl I'd love to date.
Wisps of wet honey-colored hair escaped
from underneath her disheveled damp veil. The pink gown this olive-skinned lady
wore was ripped, dirty from dust, damp from sweat and rain, and of poor
quality. The two of them must have been traveling for several days from their
home wherever that was. Their poor donkey was strapped down with a lot of
supplies.
Possibly, Tabitha could find a castaway
garment of hers to fit this lady while hers was being mended, washed, and
dried. Everything about this lady's demeanor looked pathetic. From the
irritability, and discomfort on her face, her baby would be born soon. Why didn't this lady scream or complain of
her pain? If I were in her place, I would. Yet, there she sat quietly awaiting
further instructions from this man that I assumed was her husband and the
father of her unborn child.
The man standing next to her was about ten
years her elder and rather short. He was stout, dark-skinned from excessive sun
exposure, and his face was covered in a wheat-colored beard. The scar on his
right cheek twitched when he talked. This was not the kind of guy I'd want to
meet in a dark alley, but right now in this present situation he didn't seem
threatening.
The man didn't attend kings. He and his
wife were another hardworking, overtaxed couple. The calloused hands and the weathered face of
this man gave me a clue about his occupation. (My Uncle Jim's hands looked like
this. He was a carpenter who made handcrafted furniture.) It appeared this
couple was trying to make the best of a bad situation, not having anywhere to
stay for the night.
There was something vaguely familiar about
this man and woman. What was it? Did I
know them from somewhere? Surely, they had never been to Oaksdale, Ohio? They
didn't seem like the vacationing type.
After a few moments of silence, the
gentlemen spoke with a voice so low that it made my teeth rattle. He was
speaking the same strange language everyone around here spoke, and I
understood. "Good Sir, my wife and I have traveled far from Nazareth to
pay our required taxes in the city of my hometown of Bethlehem.
All the other inns are full. We have no
living relatives in this town. Could you please provide us somewhere to rest
for the night? Our first child will be born soon, and my wife needs a warm
place to stay." The couple pulled my heartstrings with their story. I hoped Koa could help them.
"Tabitha," I could hear Koa
whispered in her ear, "Don’t we have one more room left?"
"No, Koa, we don't," she quietly
replied. "The last room was given to that sweet family from Joppa with the
baby girl. Do you remember?"
"Sweetheart, you’re right."
He turned back around and gave the man a
reply that upset me tremendously.
"Sir, there is no room in the inn for
you and your good wife. I have no way to help you." Koa couldn't have hurt
the man any more even if he had punched him. I thought the big man was going to
cry. The pressures of this trip had been great. I could tell. He was near his
breaking point, and I knew he couldn't take much more. But how could Koa do anything?
His hands were tied. He wasn't going to
throw paying customers or family members out into the street. I knew Koa that
well in just the short time I'd been here.
He was an honest, hardworking, family man. My first impression of him as
a monster was wrong. If these people had started out earlier on their trip, or
had come to our hotel first, maybe things would be different now.
With a tear trickling down his cheek and a
tender pleading voice, the man spoke again. "Anywhere you can put us up
for the night will do. Please help us. We have nowhere else to go."
When it was most needed, Daniel's brain kicked
into action. As if I was possessed by a demon, my mouth whispered something
into Koa's ear. He smiled, and approved of my plan by nodding his head. Koa
then spoke my plan in his own words, "The stable is the only room we have
available. It would be free for you two. Daniel can build you a warm fire. My
wife will fetch you some fruit, bread, water, and blankets. I can take you to
the stable. This is the best I can do."
Daniel's suggestion of using the stable to
house this couple was right on the money. It would've been exactly what I would
have suggested. (I guess I did.) I hadn't forgotten the discomfort that showed
on the face of the pregnant lady at the Mall.
Eventually, the man turned and discussed
the matter with his young wife. She
nodded. Relieved to find lodging for the
night, he turned around and politely replied, "Thank you and may you and
your family be blessed."
I hoped the man wasn't too disappointed
with the sleeping accommodations. I knew Koa had done the best he could for
this couple under the circumstances. As Tabitha went to fetch supplies, and I
went to find kindling for the fire, I heard the sound of male voices behind me
and the clomping of the donkey's hooves on the muddy road leading to the
stable.
This book is concluded in installment three.
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