~/*\~ Ohad-Ittai ~/*\~
It had been three days since the march had departed the Red Sea. Ohad-Ittai was dead silent for the first time as they resumed their march away from Egypt. He’d finally realized the route they were taking, and it was the exact opposite direction of where he thought they should go. If anyone asked him directly, he was fully in favor of it. After all, he had seen the Wonders of Jehovah, and where God led them, he would gladly follow.
But in private, he still thought for sure that it changed nothing.
“Take my word for it.” Ohad-Ittai said with certainty to his friends. “We’re going back. Jah has conquered the land, drawn out the entire military force and drowned it in an hour. There’s nothing left to defend Egypt from us.” He waved at the vast wilderness ahead of them. “And little to keep us going out here.”
“There wasn’t anything we could do to the Nile, either. And then one day it turned to blood.” Eliada said to him plainly.
Ohad-Ittai gave him a look, not liking the comeback. “You think God will make the wilderness bloom for us?”
“Or at least give us rain.”
Ohad-Ittai laughed. “You have any idea how much rain will have to fall for us to get this many people through the wilderness? For that matter, if that much rain fell, it’d drown us. This land is parched, and hard packed. It wouldn’t know what to do with heavy rainfall.”
Eliada had been part of the advance team once or twice, and he was forced to agree. The wilderness that they marched through was barren and arid. The grass was thin and brown, and the only animals that seemed to thrive were the vultures and roaches. A large rat darted here and there, but there was nothing but rocks. What water they had found was so poisonous, they could smell it from miles away.
The wilderness wasn’t just empty, it was anti-life.
~/*\~
Ohad-Ittai didn’t know it, but Tzioni was asking the same questions. It had been three days since they’d entered the wilderness of Shur, and the advance party had found only one campsite with a suitable body of water. Tzioni had tested it, and spat it out immediately. The acrid bitterness lingered in his mouth. “No chance”. He said to the rest of the advance team. “We’ll have to find somewhere else.”
“There is nowhere else.” The answer came. “Nowhere that we can march everyone to before they all die of thirst, anyway. We’re walking in some of the most desolate areas on the map. Where are we going to take millions of people to drink? If there was that kind of water out here, it wouldn’t be a wasteland.”
~/*\~
“Three days.” Satau murmured. “Three days, since the Red Sea, and the people are already dissolving into factions again.”
Takarut wasn’t surprised. “Three days is as long as anyone can last without water.” He murmured back. “They’re turning back into factions because they need to find water, and there isn’t any by staying with the camp. Faith is strong in the camp, but faith can’t quench thirst.”
“Can’t it? I’ve seen seas jump up and stand on end.” Ashura countered, but she was pale already, trembling a bit from dehydration. “Is there anything left?”
Takarut tossed her one of the empty waterskins that they filled up before leaving the Red Sea. “Not a drop.”
~/*\~
They walked until they reached the campsite their advance team had found. Leahe looked for her father and saw him hurrying to Moses. The look on his face suggested bad news. Some of those saw the huge body of water and let out a cry, running ahead of the main assembly to throw themselves down at the water’s edge, and drink… before coming back up and vomiting, crying out in disgust at the bitter taste.
Oh God… Leahe prayed in horror. No water.
Satau was suddenly at her side. “Leahe…” He offered quietly. “I still have a little water. Not much, but… If I can make it back to our last camp, there might still be enough drinking water where we last filled up our skins. If there is, then maybe I could make it back to Egypt.”
She stared at him. “You’re leaving?”
“We’ll die if we stay here with no water.” Satau offered. “That’s not cowardice, it’s a fact. Even faith must give way to dehydration.” He bit his lip. “I want you to come with me. The Edict from Pharaoh cannot be undone. You are a free woman now.”
Leahe tried to answer, but failed. Her throat was too parched. She coughed. A dry, painful cough. But it passed, and she could speak again. “No. I’m not going back.”
Satau nodded, heartsick. He knew she’d say that. “Let me check my maps again. There might be something. Keep an eye out for animals. Even rats need moisture.”
Deror tugged on her empty sleeve once he was out of earshot. “You should think about it.” He rasped, licking his lips. “My master had a serving girl who spilled a cup of water on him once. He responded by having her tied to a wall in direct sunlight for three days. We were forbidden to take her water. She was blind from the sun by the second morning, mad from the thirst by the afternoon; and dead on the third day. Have you ever seen someone executed by thirst, Leahe?”
She shivered hard. “I can’t believe that God could bring us all the way out here and just ‘forget’ that we need water.”
Deror said nothing, but she could tell he wasn’t convinced.
Moses was surrounded again. More and more people, turning to their symbol of hope, pleading for an answer. Had he led them the wrong way? The pillar of smoke and fire said no. But the large body of poisonous acidic water said there was nothing here for them.
Moses pushed his way through the gathering crowd, and made his way to a dead sapling. It might have been a tree once, but it was grey and ashen, no leaves, no branches, little more than a dead stalk, sticking up out of the dust. Moses was more than eighty years old, and the tree still uprooted easily in his hands.
Far enough away to go unobserved, Leahe stared at his actions. What is he doing?
Moses threw the dead tree into the acidic water. Everyone fell silent.
Leahe sniffed. There had been a salty, acidic smell in the air. It had come on so gradually as they approached their new campsite that she even hadn’t noticed it… until it had vanished.
Moses smiled and bent over at the water’s edge, scooping up a handful of suddenly clear, refreshing, water.
Leahe lurched forward. “Come on. Bring waterskins. There’s going to be a long line.”
Deror followed her immediately. “By the time everyone collects their water, we’ll be thirsty again.”
Leahe laughed despite herself, parched throat hurting at the sound.
~/*\~ Del ~/*\~
Del had been following the highway for over two days. He hadn’t found a paper map of the area, with the whole world using the internet for navigation until it all ended. He’d managed to find a road directory, but the highway was still under construction in some areas, and the directories were out of date. He still had the sun and stars to navigate by, so he settled for going in the right direction. Closer to his home town at last, he was starting to recognize a few landmarks.
On a whim, he set his car radio to scan for stations. Most of the band was silent, but he found one station, playing songs from the website. Del smiled, despite himself. He had all the same songs saved onto his device, but was glad to save his battery, letting the radio entertain him for a while.
After a few songs, someone came on, introduced himself and made a few announcements. “For those of you just coming into range, this is Brother Ronnie Herring; and you’re listening to WBBR 2.0, transmitting in the FM dial from Mount Morgan City Park. The community radio station is the only one still functional; and we thank our volunteers for helping keep her on the air. We’re getting reports of some people who have survived The Day, without any connection to the Organization. If you’re one of those people, we can provide food, and friendship, and an explanation of what has happened. If you’re hearing me now, you’re one of us, and very welcome to join the group.”
Del let out a low whistle. He’d often wondered what would have happened to people who lived in isolation, or smaller tribes in the deep jungle, who likely had never received a witness. If there were people who made it through based on the right heart condition alone, they probably would have gone into hiding during the Troubles.
(Author’s Note: Such isolated groups are, obviously, a small minority. The literature speaks of them sparingly, as there’s no clear scripture that declares for the few people who have never been witnessed to. God has never given us a quota, or a checklist. He measures the heart. The Witnesses have always said it would be up to Him, and Jesus, to pass judgment on ‘sheep vs goats’. As with the children, this means the topic will be mentioned, but not a needed plot point to rely on.)
“If there’s anyone in the range of our transmitter who hasn’t yet found their way to other survivors, we invite you to join our main group at Mount Morgan Courthouse. We’ve adopted that as a temporary headquarters, since our Halls were destroyed by rioting before That Day. We’ve gotten a report that most survivors are heading to the Branch Office, in the hopes of learning what happens next.” Ronnie continued. “And speaking of what happens next, we’d like to welcome brother Benedict, one of our local Elders, who has asked to respond to some of the questions we have coming in fairly regularly. Brother Benedict?”
There was a pause as the next speaker came on. “Thank you, Brother Herring. I am grateful to be here… Brothers and sisters, there’s nobody alive in the world who hasn’t experienced a miraculous deliverance from harm. In the Bible, we have several examples of people like us who underwent similar rescue. But some have expressed concern that not everyone in the Bible record responded appropriately. For example, the wife of Lot; and the Golden Calf. The Golden Calf event has people worried that there might be people who want to ‘go back to Egypt’, while the example of Lot’s wife has some concerned that being emotional over what was lost may inherently be sinful. I’d like to take a few minutes and unpack these concerns.”
Del smiled a bit as he drove. The roads had been almost empty, but as he passed cities, he saw a few people on the move. The highways were blocked here and there by checkpoints, or even barricades left by bandits. The roads had been dangerous at the End, but someone had been making an effort to clear them. He arrived at a checkpoint that hadn’t been cleared yet, and stopped; getting out of the car to move aside the barrier. He could still hear the radio while he worked.
“Firstly, a word of reassurance: We know that Jehovah doesn’t condemn us for having feelings.” Benedict said plainly. “After all, He promises repeatedly to be close to the brokenhearted ones. What’s more, we know that Jehovah is likely feeling some of these feelings Himself. He loved everyone we’ve lost with a perfect love. Remember what Jesus said on the subject of the End, at Matthew 24:22.”
By this time, Del had returned to the car. Instead of driving on, he pulled out his Bible and turned to the verse. “In fact, unless those days were cut short, no flesh would be saved; but on account of the chosen ones those days will be cut short.”
Benedict’s voice came through the radio, reading along with him, before continuing. “Jehovah and His appointed King over the Earth took this action because there was no longer any choice. It was act, or lose everything. A plain reading of Genesis doesn’t disclose the motives that Lot’s wife had when she looked back, but our literature on the subject assumes she looked ‘with longing’ at the loss of her possessions, and the city itself. That’s not the same as legitimate grief. If any of us wanted to stay in the old world, we would have.”
Del couldn’t help the nod at that. He’d been separated from his family when The End came because he was trying to convince his mother; and he’d had no time to mourn her loss, or get back to his own wife and son, before his life was put in danger from multiple directions.
“Secondly, and more importantly for the world at large, we can be reasonably certain that there will be no sudden swing towards disobedience as the dust settles.” Benedict promised. “To understand why, let’s look at an example of when it’s happened before. In Acts 20, Paul warned that apostasy would set in on the First-Century Congregation. And it was true. Jesus warned that the same thing would happen, decades before it came. We can read about that at Matthew 13:24.”
Del flipped to this verse too, reading along with Benedict. “The Kingdom of the heavens may be likened to a man who sowed fine seed in his field. While men were sleeping, his enemy came and oversowed weeds in among the wheat and left. When the stalk sprouted and produced fruit, then the weeds also appeared.”
Benedict’s voice took up the talk as Del looked back to the radio. “And this happened, exactly as Jesus warned. A few centuries after Jesus died, there was almost no sign of pure worship left. The teachings of Jesus had been completely ‘overgrown’.” Benedict went silent for a moment, letting that linger. “But when That Day came upon the world, we got a very clear indication of who the ‘wheat’ in that illustration were. Look ahead in Matthew 13, to verse 39. What did Jesus say about the solution to that problem?”
Del began reading along again. “‘The harvest is a conclusion of a system of things, and the reapers are angels. Therefore, just as the weeds are collected and burned with fire, so it will be in the conclusion of the system of things. The Son of man will send his angels, and they will collect out from his Kingdom all things that cause stumbling and people who practice lawlessness, and they will pitch them into the fiery furnace. There is where their weeping and the gnashing of their teeth will be. At that time the righteous ones will shine as brightly as the sun in the Kingdom of their Father.’.”
Del shivered, despite himself. There was a time when talking about that part put him off the Truth completely.
“As with everything that’s happened, our Lord was firmly in control.” Benedict summed up. “When Israel responded to their deliverance with a Golden Calf, Moses himself acknowledged that the problem was how stubborn and rebellious his people were. When the Apostles saw their time ending, they knew and prophesied that apostasy would quickly take over the early Christians. But nowhere in the Bible were we warned that it would happen again in Paradise. Indeed, the only promises about this time are positive. The ‘weeds’ have been thrown into the furnace. It’s over. Finished.” Benedict declared. “This is not a time of separating the wheat out safely. That work is done. Admittedly, we don’t have the full picture of what the world will look like in a thousand years, but we know who’s in charge of it. It’s the same leader we put our trust in since 1914. It’s the same leader we turned to when we were under siege from the whole world.”
“Amen.” Del murmured, and got the car moving again, but he felt a twinge. One of those ‘weeds’ was his mother.
(Author’s Note: The preceding was largely taken from an Annual Meeting talk entitled ‘I Will Never Abandon You’, given by Brother Stephen Herd; currently available on JW.org. As the talk covers this time period, and the themes of this book directly, I made full use of it.)
~/*\~
Del listened to the radio while he drove a while longer, until the road suddenly vanished in front of him, and he pulled up quickly. There was a break in the highway, more than fifty feet across. He checked his map again, surprised. The elevated Highway was almost thirty feet above the ground. There were concrete safety barriers on either side of the road… and a section was missing from the middle. On the other side of the gap, he saw a crane, and a concrete truck, waiting for workers.
He stood there for several minutes, trying to figure out his next move, or at least what other route he could take; when he heard another engine. It was a pickup truck, with a large cargo of plastic sheeting rolled up in the back. The truck pulled up alongside him, with three brothers in the back. Del didn’t recognize them, but they were on a mission, nodding warmly at him, before grabbing their cargo and rolling it out across the road.
A sister was driving the truck, and she hopped out, waving Del over. “Let me guess. You were following a paper map, since the internet is down?”
“The highway’s not broken on the map.” Del said helplessly.
“The section got taken out a few weeks before it all collapsed. They were building a connector lane to the highways down below at ground level.” She pointed over the barrier, at the ground highway heading off perpendicular to the raised road they were on. “We decided to turn this gap into a water catchment, since the mains aren’t reaching this far out of town anymore.” She smiled at him. “I’m Georgina. Where are you from, brother?”
Del nodded. “Mount Morgan Congregation. I was elsewhere when it all came apart. Couldn’t get back.” He shook her hand. “Del Chester.”
“Yeah, I heard the airports were a mess during the whole thing.” Georgina agreed, thinking. “Del… Del… Married to Eleanor?”
He jumped like he’d touched a live wire. “You know Ellie?”
“Me? No. But there’s a bunch of notice boards. Announcements, contact details… Lotta people looking for someone.” Del was about to ask where he could find such a billboard, but she was way ahead of him. “Head back the way you came, and take the first off-ramp.” The woman directed him. “Then double back and follow the highway from underneath. You’ll find a small shopping plaza just below us. At least, that’s what it used to be.”
“The only exit back that way isn’t an off-ramp. It’s an on-ramp. It’s going the opposite direction.” Del objected.
She grinned at him. “What? You’re worried about running into oncoming traffic? Look around, brother. This is rush hour.”
And Del wanted to slap himself. She was right. The road rules were null and void. All human laws were, simply because there were no governments left. He was getting lost because habit made him drive only on the ‘correct’ side of the road. “Thanks.”
“Hey.” Georgina called him back, and stepped up to give him a tight hug. “We both made it, Del. I don’t know who you are, but it’s so good to see you here.”
Del burst out laughing and returned the hug. Because this woman may have been a stranger, but she was his sister too, only alive now because of the amazing, holy thing they had in common with each other, and everyone alive in the world.
~/*\~
Below the overpass, there was a small strip of shops, along with a carpark space that was slowly being transformed. A team of brothers were turning the concrete area into a container garden, with large tubs full of soil, and several seedlings already planted.
There was a man carrying wooden boards away from the storefront, while one or two others un-boarded the other windows. The main storefront, in the center of the little strip, had no sign, but the doors were open, and a few kids were painting up the walls with paints and crayons, adding colorful pictures to everything.
Del pulled his car to a halt and climbed out, walking up slowly, looking around for anyone he knew. One or two seemed familiar, like he’d seen them at a convention but not spoken. The man set his load down and came over to meet him. “Hey.” He said gruffly. “You the new Postman?”
Del nodded a greeting in return. “No, I’m afraid not. I do have a few letters for people in this direction, but I’m not… My name is Del.”
“Biggs.” The other man returned the introduction, but didn’t release the handshake, head tilting. “Del.” He repeated, and gestured for him to follow. They went to the storefront. What the shop was originally meant to be was anyone’s guess, but now it was part book-exchange, part cafe, part trading post. One of the walls was covered in maps, marked in the kid’s crayons so that people could figure out their location. Another wall was covered in photos and letters. Biggs went to that wall and began scanning, pulling a letter down quickly. “Del. Married to Eleanor.”
Del felt his heart give a solid beat. “Yes! You know Eleanor?”
“She was the one that studied with my sister, Kit.” Biggs nodded.
Del smiled, suddenly realizing. “Yes, I remember Kit. If you’re her brother, that means I’m going in the right direction.” He glanced around at the shop. People were having conversations over coffee, two younger kids were chasing a labrador past the front window… Del lowered his voice. “Eleanor and Jacen, they’re… okay?”
“I thought the kid’s name was Ben.” Biggs blinked.
“Jacen Benjamin Chester.” Del nodded. “Both his grandfathers had made a claim on naming rights. That was the compromise we worked out.”
Biggs snorted. “Yeah, they’re fine.” He reassured Del. “They both made it. Eleanor was ready to hop in a car and hurry to find you. Kit and I convinced her that you’d be coming here, and it’d be easier for you to make the trip without a kid.”
Del sagged. “She’s okay.” He breathed. “I mean, I heard stories about what this region was going through, and how the brothers were… I heard that the brothers were told to turn themselves in, and I wasn’t here, and they all got locked up, and I couldn’t get word, and the phones weren’t working, and I wasn’t here, and the-”
Biggs was already holding out a paper bag. “Breathe.” He directed flatly.
Del didn’t even notice he was short of breath until the other man said something about it. He did indeed breathe into the bag for a few minutes, getting himself back under control. Everyone in the room had noticed, but nobody commented on it, or seemed surprised. “Seen a reaction like that before, huh?”
“Almost everyone who’s come through it has had a moment of panic.” Biggs nodded. “Nobody really knows how they’ll react when they figure out their lives are genuinely different now. Tribulation was a change that lasted a short time, like a hospital visit, or waiting out a hurricane. Paradise is a change that we won’t ever go ‘back to normal’ from. Even if it’s a good change, there’s a moment where you feel your feet fall out from under you.”
“And for me, it was finding out that my family was okay?”
Biggs nodded, unsurprised. “For most people, it's when they can relax. You didn’t know about your family, so you were still keeping your guard up, the way you did during all the Troubles.” He gestured over at the maps. “For most people, it's when they start making plans for the future. Tribulation was hard, and when times are hard, people wanna go home. Except our homes aren’t there anymore. Not really. Those plans for Paradise were dreams until today.”
Del scrubbed his face with his hands, back under control. “Well. I’m glad you’re here then. At least someone knows how to handle the transition.”
Biggs scoffed. “I spent most of my life in the same prison your congregation turned themselves into. My ‘breakdown’ came when I realized I would have to go back, even to get here. Believe me, brother: If I had a clue how to handle life, I wouldn’t have moved twenty miles away from the rest of Mount Morgan. I just got my panic attacks before anyone else.”
“Maybe, but I’m betting you’ve helped a lot of the people who came through here.” Del said plainly. “Just because you don’t have a handle on your own problems doesn’t mean you aren’t there for your brothers and sisters.”
Biggs lowered his voice. “You’d be surprised how many people through here aren’t Witnesses. Someone who’s bewildered to see Angels? They prefer to hear straight talk from someone who’s still got prison tattoos. It’s like they don’t believe the facts if someone ‘righteous’ tries to tell them.”
Del scoffed. “Oddly enough, I have no trouble believing that.” He gestured at the maps. “Twenty miles, you said?”
“The Cong shifted to just outside the city.” Biggs pointed at the road, away from the highway. “Follow this road straight, you’ll get to where the camp is now.”
My wife and son are a short drive down this road… Del felt his heart speed up again.
There was a crooning sound beside him, and he looked down to see the labrador had come back inside, resting his head against Del’s leg. Del let out a breath and petted him absently.
~/*\~
It was almost surreal, driving through the streets that he recognized. Biggs was right: The Congregation had settled outside the town. Unlike the Region he’d left, they weren’t migrating en masse. They were settling, making a temporary home for themselves until they sorted out something more permanent.
There was a collection of cars in pretty good condition, being tended to by a few brothers. Finding such a collection was harder than it sounded after The Troubles, so Del pulled in there and tossed them his keys. The car had been a rental originally, and now belonged to nobody in particular, just like much of the world’s remaining property.
Del scanned the tent city, the pre-fabs, the open fields where people were tilling grass into cropland, searching faces for-
“Daddy!” A small voice called eagerly, and Del spun to follow it.
“Del!” Another familiar voice almost shrieked, and his wife and son were running towards him all at once. Immediately, Del forgot that there were other people around at all, and ran to them, arms all going around each other tightly, tears on all their faces.
They stayed, clutching at each other for so long that it took a while for Del to notice that everyone was applauding, all with huge smiles. Now that he had his family back in his arms, Del felt like he could breathe again, and became aware that there were several other faces that he recognized; his whole congregation coming to welcome him back with wild applause.
It was one of the first joyous reunions that they had seen take place. It would be far from the last.
~/*\~ Leahe ~/*\~
“I’m not hungry.” Deror said for the third time.
“You’re hungry.” Leahe scorned. “You haven’t eaten in two days.”
“I’ve gone longer.” Deror was immovable.
“So have I.” Leahe bit back, the pinch in her stomach making her irritable. “Most of us have, at one time or another. Doesn’t mean it’s better. I appreciate you going without food to try and keep me fed, but if you don’t take in something, you’re going to fall down and die; and that will make me sad.” She said patiently and pushed the salted fish at him. “Don’t make me sad, Deror.”
He took it and ate, chewing slowly. She kept her eyes on him until it was all gone. Once his hands were empty of food, he gave her a look. “What are you having?”
She smirked, as if she’d won something, though she didn’t feel it inside. “That was the last of our supplies.”
~/*\~
“You’re not worried?” Tzioni commented to Ashura.
She shook her head. “During the Plagues, I saw little kids in the city fighting over rats for something to eat.” She told him. “The locusts were terrifying, but they were edible. So were the frogs. A month ago, the factions in Israel were breaking because even faith can’t last forever when the faithful die of thirst. I imagine the food will be the same way. As long as there’s Moses, we won’t thirst. I’m willing to bet the same is true of food.”
Tzioni shook his head awed. “Amazing. Why can’t everyone have the same faith that you do, Ashura?”
She gave him the same smile she gave the Priests of Egypt. “I had a good teacher.”
~/*\~
Takarut spread his hands wide again, showing how empty they were. “Nothing left.” He promised the third person to come by his tent. “My own stockpile ran out yesterday.”
Unsurprised, the older woman moved on. She’d asked a few of the tents around her, and found nothing spare.
Takarut went back into his tent and sat at a game board with Satau, hearing his old friend’s stomach roar. “We’re going to be alright, aren’t we?” He asked, not for the first time. “I mean, I remember we made all these same arguments before, about water…”
“I know.” Satau yawned, moving one of the game pieces. He had little energy these days. “But back then, we had a body of water. It was undrinkable. Moses made it clean. For this, He’d have to conjure food from nothingness.”
“And where did the frogs, and gnats, and gadflies, and locusts come from?” Takarut countered, making a counter-move on the game board. “When the Red Sea happened, we vowed never to bother with silly words like ‘plausible’ and impossible’ again.”
“It’s not that I’ve changed my mind. It’s that I have blisters on my blisters now. We’ve been walking for weeks in a wilderness so stark that I can’t tell one stretch of it from another. If it wasn’t for the stars, I wouldn’t know if Jehovah was leading us around in circles.” Satau acknowledged. “And the food has run out.”
~/*\~
“Even the Egyptians didn’t execute people by starvation.” Deror gloomed. “They didn't have the patience for it. We were too disposable to starve. Starving takes at least a week or two. No master cared enough to hate us that long.”
“Deror, please. I’m begging you.” Leahe yawned.
Deror had a single tear rolling past his chin, a bead of sweat making its way down over his scars. “It would have been better if we died in Egypt. It would have been faster. So much faster.”
~/*\~
“You were right, Ohad-Ittai.” Eliada said bitterly. “We should have stayed and fought in Egypt. Even after the Plagues, we would have found something to eat.”
“No.” Ohad-Ittai said with certainty. “I heard from Takarut and Satau that the stores were ruined by hail, and locusts. They were in the same state we are now.”
“Maybe. But one temple full of gold would have brought barges full of food down the Nile. For that matter, we could have caught our own fish.” Eliada groaned. He lifted his head. “What about our animals?”
“Saved for worship of Jehovah.” Ohad-Ittai said seriously.
“Someone’s going to get hungry enough to let that be tomorrow’s problem.”
“We don’t have nearly enough livestock to feed everyone anyway.” Ohad-Ittai shook his head. “And if one person decides to go for it, the Levites aren’t going to stand for it.” He rose when Tzioni walked past. “Not that it’ll stop them forever. Levites need to eat too.” He raised his voice a little in the last statement, so that Tzioni had to ‘overhear’ and turn to face him.
“Something on your mind, Ohad-Ittai?” Tzioni asked.
“Tzioni, you know I’d follow Moses anywhere.” He pointed up at the pillar of smoke. “Where Moses and that Pillar goes, it means Jehovah is there. But if this keeps up, we’ll have to start eating each other. And that was exactly what Pharaoh was expecting. Either he was right all along, or something has gone against The Plan.”
“Everyone’s murmuring against Moses about food, the way they did with water.” Tzioni commented. “Why do we turn to Moses with our complaints, but never to Jehovah directly? Moses isn’t the only one who can pray, you know.”
“He’s the only one ever to get an answer.” Ohad-Ittai shot back.”What did Moses have for his morning meal, sir?”
Tzioni met his gaze, not sure he liked the implications. “Moses has called for a general assembly. He’ll address everyone in the late afternoon.”
~/*\~
“In the evening you will certainly know that it is Jehovah who brought you out of the land of Egypt. In the morning you will see Jehovah’s glory, for He has heard your murmurings against Him. Who are we that you should murmur against us?” Aaron declared, as powerful as he ever was before Pharaoh.
Moses continued from there. “When Jehovah gives you meat to eat in the evening, and in the morning bread to satisfaction, you will see that Jehovah has heard your concerns against him. But who are we? Your murmurings are not against us, but against Jehovah.”
Moses and Aaron turned towards the wilderness. The whole audience turned with him, millions strong. Satau wasn’t anywhere close to the two men, but he heard them just the same. Everyone had.
(Author’s Note: There’s no clear indication of how Moses addressed the whole assembly. In this book, I’ve hinted at ‘supernatural’ amplification, and I’ve had the Elders relay his messages. Either is possible, but this is my own supposition. What’s known is that Moses relayed messages from Jehovah to the people, one way or another.)
The Pillar of Cloud stood in their view. As the sun went down, the smoke began to show flickers of flames within, as though a fire was burning within the cloud, mostly hidden away. Everyone had watched the transition at some point, as the flames within seemed to grow stronger, and brighter; until finally only flame was left, burning brightly in the dark.
But this was something different. Within the cloud and flame a new kind of light was emerging, radiant and pure. The light shone over all the millions of Israelites. It wasn’t firelight. It was something more holy. More glorious.
There was a sound, somewhere between the beat of immense wings, and a clap of thunder, and everyone dropped to their knees, awed into worship by the sign.
(Author’s Note: Exodus 16:10 says: ‘As soon as Aaron had spoken to the entire assembly of the Israelites, they turned and faced toward the wilderness, and look! Jehovah’s glory appeared in the cloud.’ But what that actually looked like is an open question. The marginal references on that verse refer to a time when Jehovah spoke in support of Jesus out of ‘a bright cloud’. The Pillar of smoke and fire was always with the camp. This must have been something special, to be mentioned specifically in the record.)
Satau bowed deeply. He’d spent his life worshipping at Shrines and statues of gold and silver. This was something else. This was genuine divinity. He could hear Takarut breathing hard, half expecting to be struck down as an Egyptian. He could hear Ashura openly sobbing, joyful.
~/*\~
Twilight was an interesting time. The camp had to be set up for the night before the light dimmed. The Pillar of Cloud began its transformation into flame (an event that most people still paused to watch), and most people prepared for sleep. Better to wake before the dawn and get things done before the heat, than to waste oil for their lanterns.
Tonight, however, was different.
Satau turned in early. He had few early morning duties to attend to, but the food was running out, and he didn’t want to waste the energy.
There was a fluttering, like a breeze, and then it grew stronger, so swiftly that it was like a sudden windstorm. Satau jumped at the instant cacophony, and then ran from the tent to look.
The only thing he could equate it to was the Plague of Locusts. Suddenly there was a layer of writhing living creatures all over the ground. There were more on the tents, their bodies small and light enough to find places to perch. Also on the wagons, on the backs of the livestock. But it wasn’t locusts, or anything destructive.
Quail. Millions of them.
The birds were small, but Satau could see people grabbing them already. Hunger was motivating them to hunt. Satau went into his tent and grabbed a basket, turning it upside down to use as a ‘net’ for the small birds just outside his tent.
He didn’t have to work so hard. The birds weren’t trying to escape. One or two of them had already hopped into his tent directly.
They’re lining up to be eaten? Satau found that harder to believe than their miraculous arrival. Wherever they had come from, they were here now, and apparently were doing everything short of actually climbing into a cooking pot to serve themselves up.
Satau picked up the nearest bird. It was small, and cooed in his hand, not struggling. Satau had no idea what to do next.
Ashura appeared in his doorway, with a knife in one hand, already blooded. “We need hot water.” She reported. “Makes the plucking easier. I’ve got one pot. You’ve got another. Assuming we can find enough fuel to keep the pots going… Let’s eat?”
(Author’s Note: Historians say that wood fires were used for Pharaohs and Egyptian elites, but as these were desert nations, lumber would have been a premium material. Nomadic tribes and other early cultures used dung fires, and we know the Israelites used livestock. There’s little in scripture to make that clear.
On the subject of ‘Cooking’, the Insight book says: “Bronze cooking pots that stood on legs are depicted in Egyptian tomb paintings, and it is possible that the complaining Israelites in the wilderness had such vessels in mind when they spoke of “sitting by the pots of meat” in Egypt. (Exodus 16:3)”
As it’s not a major plot point, this is the only mention of the utensils and cooking fuel. But the wilderness had nothing to sustain millions of people. All that came from a supernatural source. There’s precedent in the Bible for oil lamps lasting miraculously longer than was possible, so it’s entirely believable that in addition to providing food and water, Jehovah kept their campfires burning longer; but this is supposition.)
“Well, I’m glad at least one of us knows what they’re doing.” Satau admitted, holding one of the quail up helplessly. “How do we do this?”
“We can cook them, boil them up, make soup, broth, stew…” Ashura grinned. “There’s enough here that we can do all of it without having to fight over the meat.”
~/*\~
Stuffed full of quail, Leahe had gone to bed without hunger for the first time in days. Being hungry at the end of the day was normal. There were never second helpings for slaves. If you had enough food for a second meal, you kept it hidden for the day when you didn’t have anything at all. Feeling full was another not-so-minor miracle.
Jehovah God, She prayed as she curled up for sleep. It sounds mad that we would fear starvation, but it’s a familiar fear. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have to ration my food, or calculate how much of it I could save for the next day. Your plagues… You attacked their food. Not ours, I know. But on some level I never considered what could happen if You decided to make more food for us; because it’s never happened before… It’s no excuse, I know. I should have trusted You more, and I’m sorry I didn’t…
Her thoughts faded into gibberish as sleep overtook her.
It felt like seconds later that Deror was shaking her awake. Leahe was startled, since he lived in the next tent over. “Deror? What’s wrong? Where’s my father?”
“He’s on his way to speak with Moses and Aaron. Come look. Something’s happened!”
~/*\~
Outside the tents, on the ground, was a white substance. It was light and flaky, but it was everywhere.
“What is it?” Leahe asked, curious.
“I have no idea.” Deror admitted, reaching down to pluck some up and rub it between his fingers. “It feels like coriander seed…”
“Brothers and Sisters of Israel.” Tzioni’s voice rang out across the tents. “You will have questions about the ‘new arrival’ in camp, as the dew fades. This is what Moses has said: ‘It is the bread that Jehovah has given you’.”
Leahe and Deror looked at each other in surprise. Leahe quickly walked a few steps out from the entrance to her tent. Everywhere on the ground, the white flakes were there. It was crunching under her feet. It wasn’t a heavy layer, but there was so much of it, spread across the whole assembly…
Her father’s voice was still ringing out, and she could hear the echoes of other Elders, spreading the word, and the instructions on what to do with this new foodstuff that had apparently condensed into existence overnight. Some of the women that she could see were already bringing out baskets and collecting.
Once the instructions were out, Leahe went back into her tent and got her gathering basket, ready to fetch a measure of her own. She couldn’t help but watch the other women. They all balanced their basket under one arm, collecting efficiently with the other. Leahe had to set her basket down on the ground and drop to her knees to do the same. She took twice as long as the rest of them.
Trying not to dwell on it, Leahe went into her tent and unwrapped the hand mill. Grinding emmer wheat in Egypt was a task that took hours out of her day, over and beyond the hard labor. The grain they had carried out into the wilderness didn’t grind any faster.
With one hand, she was still learning how to handle the mill. She’d never be as fast as she used to be.
“I can do this for you, you know.” Deror said quietly. “You’ve done enough for me lately, I should be able to-”
“I have to get there eventually.” Leahe shook her head. “One way or another, I have to adapt.”
“It’s not just women’s work.” Tzioni said, coming into the tent. “Plenty of households don’t have wives or mothers. Plenty leave it to their children. The work needs to be done, daughter. It doesn’t have to be you.”
“It was my job my entire life, before that sword came down.” She said archly. “I still have some use.” She kept working the mill slowly. “Besides, this stuff is flaky already. No chaff to sift out. It’s easier to grind than anything we’ve ever eaten before.”
Tzioni gave her a sympathetic look, but didn’t push it any further.
~/*\~
An hour later, Takarut appeared at the entrance to their tent. He had a large clay jar with him, and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Good morning.” He said briskly. “I thought perhaps I could save you all some hard work, and bring you a measure of… whatever it is.”
“Thank you.” Tzioni said politely, though Leahe could see the tension hidden in his frame. “But we have a full measure already for our household.”
“Oh.” Takarut was still standing in the doorway, feeling decidedly foolish. “Well, perhaps for tomorrow, you’d like the surplus. Save Leahe the labor?”
Tzioni shook his head. “The instructions were specific. We have a full omer for ourselves, and only what is needed for today.”
Just then, Satau arrived in the doorway, also with a full jar under his arm. “Good morning. I thought-” He saw Takarut. “Oh.”
Deror smothered a smirk towards Leahe. Tzioni drew himself a little taller. “Indeed.” He commented. “Thank you both for the generosity. But you’ll find that we have the situation in hand. After all, we have been given rations by Egyptians before, and now we are fed directly from the kitchens of heaven. As are both of you.”
Takarut and Satau traded an awkward look. They had both wanted to ingratiate themselves, it was true. And it was also true that offering extra food was how the Egyptians had secured the loyalty of Hebrews for many years. “In truth, I’m not sure either of us have anything else to offer.” Satau said ruefully to Tzioni.
Tzioni nodded. “You have food provided by Jehovah God. Enough to sustain you until tomorrow, when there will be another provision of ‘Manna’.”
“You named it ‘Manna’?” Takarut almost laughed.
(Author’s Note: The 8/15 1999 WT article: ‘Benefiting From The Grain of Heaven’, says: ‘When the sons of Israel got to see it, they began to say to one another: ‘What is it?’” or literally in Hebrew, “man huʼ?” This expression was probably the origin of the word “manna,” the name that the Israelites gave the food.’
Obviously, this anecdote doesn’t translate too easily to a fiction book written entirely in English; but I wanted to mention it from Takarut, who would have grown up speaking Egyptian, and not Hebrew.)
“It’s as good a name as any.” Tzioni returned. “Hebrews know how to live one day at a time, and be grateful to make it to sunset without starving to death. Your generosity of spirit is appreciated, but I’m sure there are others who are more in need than us. We have our full ration for today.”
“As do we.” Satau recognized it was a dismissal, and why. “God’s blessing upon all in this household.”
After the two Egyptians had made their goodbyes and left, Leahe sent her father a glance. “I can remember a time when Takarut was welcome to sit and talk with you for hours and hours.”
“I know.” Tzioni admitted. “But he’s not coming to our tent for lessons anymore, daughter.”
The slight emphasis on the family title was not lost on her. The dynamic had changed, from a teacher to a protective father. She wasn’t sure she approved of it. She wasn’t sure she minded the attention from both men, once her masters, now her…
My… what? Friends? Fellow Israelites? Suitors? None of the possibilities seemed to fit correctly.
~/*\~
“So.” Takarut said, overly casual. “Is this going to destroy our friendship at all?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Satau said, equally casual.
“Good.” Takarut commented, hefting his clay jar. “I guess I don’t have to collect any more for myself then. Maybe my surplus can go to some of the older ones. Mercy knows we made them work hard enough for a meal in the past.”
Satau sighed, feeling the edge of guilt too. “Yeah. I’ll go with you.”
But when the two of them went to each tent and household, they found the answer was always the same. A ration had been gathered. No more was needed. It happened with four different families before the two men realized what was going on.
“That last tent?” Satau said discreetly. “The old woman was gathering in the same place I was. She was able to collect less than half of what I did. I know. I watched her collect the basket, while I did the same. I was gathering twice as much as I needed because I wanted to take the surplus to Leahe. Now, if I was gathering twice as long, and with twice the strength of that old woman…”
“Then why do you both have the same amount of Manna gathered after grinding?” Takarut finished for him. “I know. That doesn’t seem logical, does it?”
(Author’s Note: Exodus 16:18 says: ‘When they would measure it by the omer, the one who had gathered much had no surplus and the one who had gathered little had no shortage. They each gathered it according to what they could eat’. If that means the amount always came out even, or if it means that everyone was satisfied with whatever they’d gathered is less clear. I took this route, because it’s not a plot point. Why not another miracle?)
“A lot of this doesn’t make logical sense.” Satau admitted. “Whenever we found something we couldn’t explain in Egypt, we chalked it up to an act of the gods. Now we’re living in a mobile nation, being sustained by miracles, day by day.” He gave Takarut a crooked smile. “If Pharaoh had known about Manna, would he still have thought the Isrealites' wish to leave was crazy?”
“I don’t think even Moses knew this would happen.” Takarut admitted. “You heard what Tzioni said about living ‘day by day’?” He licked his dry lips. “Maybe that’s not limited to bread. Maybe Jehovah only gives people the instructions they need.” He gestured at the pillar of smoke in the middle of the Camp. “We weren’t given a map showing the route. Almost all the maps are blank this far from civilization. None of the cartographers we trained in the Temples could even make it this distance to take their measurements. We’re following a pillar of fire that moves, and burns all night without fuel, and a pillar of smoke that is being cast by nothing as it leads a path.”
“Day by day.” Satau commented. “Come on. If we can’t figure out how to prepare this Manna, Leahe will laugh at us. So will the neighbors.”
~/*\~
The Camp moved again. The new food was sufficiently nourishing for them to walk the distance without hunger pains. Satau had wondered if there would be a sudden increase of animal life where their camp walked, leaving the surplus edibles on the ground; but the Manna actually melted with the hot sun.
Some tried to store it anyway, despite their instructions, the instinct to hoard food too ingrained to set aside quickly, after a lifetime of starvation and abuse. But hoarding Manna was impossible. It was rancid with worms by the very next day, Moses was reportedly incensed at the attempts, reminding people that Jehovah was not a slaver who would ‘forget’ to feed His people.
The camp moved to Horeb, and the Manna kept pace with them, coming every day. Their water supply ran out, and people started to worry again. Manna was miraculous, but apparently didn’t sate thirst as well as hunger.
Enough people eventually got to Moses that he and Aaron performed another miracle. Takarut and Satau were two among a crowd of millions and didn’t see it, but word had spread quickly, and they noticed the crowd taking their empty skins and water jugs in the same direction. The two men quickly lined up to collect their own water.
~/*\~
The water poured from the rock, but there was no discernible source for it. The water flowed like a river, fast enough to fill every container to capacity for millions of people. The Nile couldn’t have done it better.
“This much water should have blown that rock straight out of the ground from the pressure alone.” Takarut commented.
“It wasn’t like Moses discovered an underground aquifer.” Satau told him. “Miracles don’t have to make sense. That’s why they’re miraculous. The Nile turning to blood didn’t make that clear for you?”
“I know, I know.” Takarut admitted. “I had the same problem with the Manna suddenly being good for two days, once a week.” He spread his hands wide as his amphora filled to the brim. “It’s a message being delivered. On the day before the Sabbath, it lasts twice as long.”
Satau nodded. “A day when they don’t have to do anything to be fed. The Pharaoh would never give them that.”
The two men left the instant river as they headed back towards their tents. There was a long line of people who had yet to reach the water. As they stowed their water, they ate their daily manna.
“It doesn’t taste bad, you know.” Takarut commented, chewing his manna cake. “Too bad we don’t have this back in Egypt. I bet this ‘honey’ flavor would go over well with some of the cakes they could have baked there.”
Satau scoffed. “Takarut, we don’t have this back in Egypt because it didn’t exist until we got here. If something edible just appeared with the dew, do you think we’d have not found out about it? The wilds out here are unsuitable for farming and habitation, but it’s not like we never sent scouts.”
Takarut conceded that. “True. But I miss the way Pharaoh’s chef used to prepare those sauces. You remember?”
“I remember wishing we could have a state dinner every other day.” Satau admitted. “The spice traders came in and half of us would stand downwind just to get a whiff of those things from the east. What were they called?”
“No idea. A Scribe rarely gets to attend those dinners. I had to bribe one of the Baker’s apprentices to sneak me their scraps. Worth everything I spent.”
They both sighed in the memory for a moment… before returning to their plain Manna cakes.
“We should help the older women with their water jugs.” Satau said finally. “Maybe the Manna is light and easy, but water needs hauling, and it’ll either be us or Leahe volunteering.”
Takarut agreed, jumping up. “Yeah.”
~/*\~
The wagons carried large water jugs for the walk. The two Egyptians helped them fill the containers. They were far too heavy to lift off the wagon, so they had to be filled by skinfuls.
“Hauling water again.” Leahe commented dryly, the familiar yoke back across her shoulders.
“We’d hoped to get this done before they called on you.” Satau offered. “How much nourishment is in Manna, anyway? Considering it’s powdery snow; and we could spend hours at a time walking.”
“Manna is the kind of miracle we’ve needed our whole lives.”
Takarut blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The hardest work in Egypt was hauling stone or making bricks, but the most common job for us was tending the fields. More work was done in the fields than everywhere else in the country combined.” Leahe nodded. “And even once it’s grown, it has to be harvested, transported, threshed, ground, mixed, prepared, baked, carried and eaten. And you have to do it three times a day, every day. And in Goshen that was usually after working sixteen hours of hard labor.”
Takarut swiftly understood. “In the Palace, we had servants to do all that work for us, but in Goshen, having immediately edible food rain from the sky regularly would have saved lives.”
“If we could have served Manna to Pharaoh, I’d still have ten fingers.” Leahe admitted with no discernable emotion either way.
~/*\~
The people had seen water conjured from nothing more than once, and it finally started to sink in that it would always be there for them. They were off the edge of every map in the civilized world, walking in a place that nobody had ever charted. When they didn’t know for sure where the water or food would be found, this unknown was a source of fear.
But Jehovah had made bread fall from the sky, day by day. The isolation became something else now. Confidence. Even pride. Nobody would come against them out here. If Egypt even had an army left to send after them, it wouldn’t be able to reach this far. Nor would the Philistines, or the Hittites, or anyone else they’d heard of.
With Moses as their leader, and the food rationed to them every day without running out, the distance was their security.
Security enough that the once disagreeing factions could turn their mind to other problems.
~/*\~
“So. What do you plan to do next?” Takarut asked Leahe. “I’m still trying to figure out which of my skills can be of use in the camp. I have no idea how to be a Shepherd, or a builder, or a farmer.”
“Not that complicated to make bricks.” Leahe offered lightly. “It’s not like you needed to give us much in the way of an education.”
“Granted, but I think my point was that I’m the odd one out now.” Takarut blew past that. “What do you plan to do? Somehow, I doubt you’ll want to make bricks or haul water again. What would you like to do with your life?”
Leahe laughed, and then froze. “Huh. You know, you’re the first one who has ever asked me that. First one, ever in my life.”
“Your father would probably like to see you looked after.” Takarut offered gently, trying to ease into the topic.
“Mm. My father has no idea what’s going to happen to us either.” Leahe admitted. “As grateful as I am for the manna, I can’t imagine we’ll be eating it our whole lives.” She bit her lip. “I can’t believe many of my people would look forward to making bricks again, even for our own dwellings. I know if I never had to haul water again I’d die happy, but if I became a farmer or a rancher I’d have to.” She shivered hard. “But I can’t become a weaver or a seamstress with just one hand…” She looked stricken. “Takarut... I have no idea what to do!”
~/*\~ Paige ~/*\~
The ‘convoy’ was getting closer to their destination. Most of them expected to meet someone coming the other way, but there had been nobody yet. The highways branched out, connecting to other highways that went across the nation. Paige was surprised to notice that several of their numbers were heading off in different directions. She knew that Del had gone home to find his family; and imagined that most brothers in the Region had people to look for.
Not like her.
That night, the camp settled again, this time on the Highway itself, with nowhere else suitable to stop. The Elders stood on top of the larger vehicles to begin making announcements. Most of it was scheduling and organization. Some of the announcements were just observations of what was happening. Obvious things like blindness and deafness had vanished instantly, but old age hadn’t been spontaneously returned to youth. Some had wondered if otherwise perfect health would also come slowly, but it was clear that all medical issues were settled, even if the scars of the old days (literal and figurative) were fading more slowly.
With the general announcements done, they moved on to the nightly meetings. The topics had changed. All the warnings about association, or the ministry, or choices of entertainment were meaningless now. As a result, nobody was entirely sure on what the next night would bring.
“For I came to cause division, with a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. Indeed, a man’s enemies will be those of his own household.” Daryll quoted from his bible. “It seems like a shocking declaration, especially given the source. But we’ve seen it happen. A lot of us have experienced it, one way or another. The final result of which we’ve lived through.”
And Paige felt tears pricking her eyes.
“Grief demands to be felt. That’s how human beings are. It’s not a sin to grieve when the sun is shining, and it’s not disrespectful to their memory to rejoice the coming of Paradise, today of all days.” Daryll promised. “Remember, the people who are here? They aren’t here because of their regard for each other. They’re here because of their choices about God. And the people who didn’t make it? It had nothing to do with their love for you, or their respect for you, or how they treated you. They’re absent now, because of their feelings about God. We’ve all come through a war where people who were pretending to value God were shown to be hypocrites and liars. Everyone alive in the world today is here because they’re genuine.”
Even through her tears, Paige couldn’t help the nod, though nobody but Nate noticed.
As the talk wound down, a hand went up. It was an older woman, though she moved easily, as everyone did now that age and infirmity were healing. “I lost… three kids to That Day. They were all grown up and moved out before I even got the Truth.” She said slowly to the crowd. “I know well that Jesus divides mother and child, sometimes. It happened to me. The things my kids said when the Troubles started were… not polite. But when I became a Witness it was the first time, in my life, where I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. My own ex-husband couldn’t give me that. My whole life, even when I had kids of my own, I just felt more and more… isolated from the world. More and more lonely, every day. For the first time, we have a world that will stop taking people away, and just keep adding them. I have a family here.”
Paige could take no more. She turned and walked away swiftly, wiping at her eyes.
The crowd was huge, confined to the highways. It took her a while to find a place where she could have a modicum of privacy. It was Nate’s truck. She climbed into the passenger seat, grateful that his doors weren’t locked. She wiped at her eyes furiously.
The other door opened, and Nate sat down next to her. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at her. She sniffled for another few minutes, before she cleared her throat and spoke. “What do you think?”
“About what was said? I agree with every word.” Nate said flatly. “You?”
“Every word.” She agreed. “So why doesn’t it help?”
“Because you aren’t struggling with a scriptural problem, you’re grieving the loss of family members.” He said plainly. “I cried like a baby the night my mom died, even knowing about the Resurrection hope. Grief doesn’t need a logical reason.” He finally looked at her. “And this is logical. Most things get fixed now. Some things just… have to be endured until they pass.”
“Does it make me a bad Witness, if I’m mourning the people who… y’know.”
“Jesus wept with Lazarus’ family, even knowing he’d bring the man back immediately.” He offered. “I think we can safely say God feels for you too.” He waved a hand about. “We’re here. If there was something about us God disapproved of, all He had to do was… not save us.”
Paige nodded. “We’re hardly the only ones to be dealing with this feeling. You’ll never see your brother again. I won’t ever see my family again. I never even got to say goodbye.” She wiped her eyes again. “And I know that’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever said, given that you lost people the same as I did, but… I lost all of them.”
“No disrespect, Paige; but neither of us know what ‘all of them’ means anymore.” He pointed out. “I’ve got grandparents on both sides that I never got to meet, or at least don’t remember. Great-Grandparents, uncles… Relations going all the way back to Bible times.”
“I guess I must too.” Paige admitted. “Is it the same?”
“When people talk about ‘family’, they’re not talking about relatives. They’re talking about all the shared moments. All the things you had in common, all the things they were part of that mattered in your life, the comfort they gave you, the love and safety you felt…” Nate shrugged. “Maybe it’s something you can’t get back, but… we’re going to have to be that kind of family for a lot of people who will be Resurrected soon.”
Paige winced hard. “Man, I hadn’t even thought about that.” She gave him a tired look. “Why didn’t I think of that? Some Witness I am, huh?”
Nate looked out his windshield at the crowd, who were starting to sing a new song together. “One of the brothers showed me an old scar. It’s still there, but he thinks it’s fading. It’s been part of his skin for many years, and it’s starting to vanish now, even if it wasn’t gone right away.” He sighed. “Things linger for a while, but when they’re gone, they won’t be back. And this time they won’t be replaced by new, deeper, fresher scars. For the first time in history, time is on our side.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Even if it’s going slow right now, we’re getting somewhere.”
~/*\~ Leahe ~/*\~
There were only so many ways to prepare Manna. Like flour, it could be baked into cakes or bread, but anything they could add for variety of flavor was quickly used up. There was almost nothing left of the provisions they had brought from Egypt. The Manna came every day, right on schedule. Some even got up early to watch it fall.
And then it was just the same thing every day.
The Pillar of Fire and Smoke led them to their next campsite, and the nation followed. They didn’t move every day. The animals needed tending between journeys. Leahe found she enjoyed tending to the horses. Their warm nickering sound was soothing, and they didn’t care about her disability.
~/*\~
One of the women called out to Leahe once the camp was set up in their latest location. “Leahe!”
Leahe turned back to her neighbor, caught out of her thoughts. “Diann?”
“We were setting up a swap meet, if you wanted to join us?”
Leahe smiled, grateful for the chance to spend time with the other women. “Please.”
~/*\~
In a larger tent, the women gathered. They had always traded their clothing, as a way to make repairs or get replacement for their worn tunics. When a slave died, which happened fairly often, their clothing was passed on to other family members. When clothing wore out, it was broken down for cloth or rags.
No clothing had worn out since they had left Egypt. Not even frayed. Between that minor miracle, and the spoils they had taken from Egyptian households, the nation of Israel had a surplus in clothing for the first time in their lives.
While the nation might have a surplus, the individual families had only what they would carry. With no other supplies, and nothing wearing out, there was a fairly regular swap, where the women would trade clothing.
“One thing I’ll say for Egyptians, they knew how to dress comfortably.” Diann commented, feeling the fabric. “I was a domestic. I saw them wearing these fine clothes. When they wore out, the mistress would toss them into the refuse. It was still finer than any of the rags I’d worn in my life.”
Leahe changed into the more comfortable cloth, and shivered at how gentle the weave felt. “Something like this would last a day in Goshen.” She scoffed. “Not much longer on the march, if our clothes still wore out.”
The other women made sounds of agreement, and Diann presented her with a gift. One of the fine cloths had been sewn over into a parcel shape. It was soft, and packed with something comfortable. “What’s this?”
“My master had pillows stuffed with feathers. All the quail had to be plucked before we could eat it…”
Leahe laughed, and gave Diann a hug.
There was noise outside, and a sudden increase in voices. Diann sighed. “Time for the midday meal.” She drawled. “We better get moving. She adjusted Leahe’s ‘new’ tunic so that it sat a little better on her shoulders, and helped with her hair. She could reach better than Leahe.
Leahe sighed, and thanked her. “So. Lunch. What are we having?”
The other woman gave a sarcastic laugh at the comment, leading the way out of the tent. “We should have stayed in Egypt. At least there we could have fished.” She quipped, not really meaning anything by it.
~/*\~
Takarut’s effort to get Leahe to imagine her future with him in it had not gone unnoticed. Satau had made a similar attempt. Leahe still had no idea what her future life entailed. But Tzioni made a point of spending some time with the two men, when his daughter was away on errands. Partly to learn more about their character, now that their background was less important; and partly to try and dissuade them.
Deror was spending more time with Tzioni now. Tzioni had approved of his daughter’s compassionate plea to help build him back up after all the pain he’d been put through. Deror had no family left, and had become something of a domestic servant for the Elder, helping Leahe with her chores.
So the four men met for evening manna fairly often, after Tzioni had led his usual ‘congregation’ in prayers and songs of worship. Under the light of the pillar of fire, they would have long conversations, about God, about Egypt, about the past, and the future.
“I have to admit, I don’t understand the murmuring.” Satau commented. “After everything your people have seen already, do they think Jehovah will forget to feed them one day?”
“Try not to judge too harshly.” Tzioni offered. “They’ve spent a long time trying to hold onto some rations. Food is time. Having enough for one day is how we lived most of our enslaved life. Egypt very carefully controlled our rations to make sure that we would never have too much leisure time. It was considered too lenient.”
“I remember.” Satau nodded. “Slaves with free time might get to plotting.” He almost grinned, gesturing at the Pillar of Fire. “Now you’ve got all the time in the world, and nobody to plot against.”
Tzioni actually laughed. “No. It’s almost unfair.”
The four of them chuckled.
“I admit, this isn’t how Egypt would have handled food and water.” Takarut put in, holding up the last of his manna cake. “They would have created a surplus, or a storehouse… Isn’t that what Joseph taught them to do? Didn’t he feed the whole world that way once?”
‘Granted, but it’s not like we can carry a storehouse full of manna with us, even if it lasted that long.” Tzioni countered. “No, the… unrest is coming from something else.”
“Any ideas what?” Satau asked.
“Habit.” Deror put in. He rarely joined the conversation, so when he did, people listened. “There’s a fine line between maintaining dignity when the world tries its hardest to humiliate you, and just being prideful.”
Tzioni looked sympathetically at Deror. “In Goshen, it was pretty much our only privilege to complain. Deror here didn’t have even that option, as a Domestic slave. His master looked for any opportunity to punish him.”
“He enjoyed it. Having power over someone who couldn’t fight back.” Deror groused.
“On some level, all the foremen did, if impersonally.” Tzioni added. “Any foreman who showed too much sympathy, or too much ‘understanding’ for a slave? They couldn’t keep their jobs, obviously. The whips were only ever held by men who would use them.”
Satau suddenly lost his appetite. “I remember Pharaoh was… impressed, when Leahe chose herself to take the hit from his sword. He actually mentioned it, wondering if an Egyptian would do the same.”
“And there it is.” Tzioni nodded. “Breaking our bodies and breaking our spirits are two very different things. On a physical level, the whips were more than we could stand. But our will became so much harder. That… protection? That instinctive need to resist our Master, at least inside? It’s a very hard thing to let go of, after it’s seen us through every hardship that the most determined bullies could think of for a full generation.”
~/*\~
With their nightly meeting broken up, Tzioni and Deror walked back to their tents together, leaving Satau and Takarut behind. Tzioni spoke quietly to Deror as they walked. “How are you sleeping?”
“Nightmares have faded a little.” He admitted. “It’s funny. I never had nightmares in Egypt.”
“It’s the heart’s way of keeping the defences up.” Tzioni offered. “None of our people have faced the whip in months, and that’s unprecedented. Your heart hasn’t gotten the message, deep down, that it's finally safe.”
“I don’t feel safe.” Deror admitted. “I don’t even feel like me anymore.”
Tzioni nodded. “What I told them, about how our pride kept us going, no matter what they did to us? Having to hold onto that for so long has made it part of our identity. Part of our souls.” He gestured at the Pillar of Fire. “Being under a loving, benevolent master is something new. Something we’ve never experienced before.”
“Never even imagined it as a possibility.” Deror nodded.
The older man gave Deror a sideways look. “So I can understand wanting to save some food for the next day, or having something that was just your own, but it’s not needed anymore.”
Deror sank into himself a bit. “You knew? That I was one of the people hoarding Manna?”
“I could smell the stuff from my tent. It gets nasty when it’s ‘expired’.”
“I know it’s wrong thinking, but I can’t stop.” Deror looked heartsick. “I can’t help but think ‘what if tomorrow, He’s angry’?”
“Isn’t that up to us?”
“So Moses keeps saying, but… There has to be a better reason, doesn’t there?” Deror prayed silently, over and over. “There has to be a better reason to serve Jehovah? Because if I didn’t obey my Egyptian Master in all things, I was punished. If we ever say the wrong thing before Jehovah… all He has to do is not send Manna one day. We can’t even keep one day in reserve.”
“Are you looking for a day where you are free to defy the hand that feeds you?” Tzioni reasoned.
“Of course not, but…” Deror shook his head. “This is not an easy life. One wrong word-”
“One wrong word in Egypt was death, because the Egyptians were horrible masters. We’re under a forgiving master now. One that recognizes when you’re having a bad day, or when you’re dealing with a long, deeply-felt trauma.” Tzioni said kindly. “You aren’t being kept on a short, painful leash. You aren’t being threatened with starvation every morning. Do you honestly think there will be a day when food and water to us all will simply slip Jehovah’s mind?”
“No, of course not.” Deror retorted.
“The clothes you’re wearing. Have they frayed? The sandals you’ve been wearing while walking the wild country? Have they worn out? If anything was going to be ‘forgotten’, which is more likely?”
“I’m not looking for permission to be ungrateful for a day.” Deror insisted. “But… It just feels so familiar, living my life on the edge of being condemned. Abraham was Jehovah’s friend. I feel more like his pet. Every day is another chance to fail Him.”
“Every day begins with a miracle. One of many.” Tzioni pointed out. “God could have made the food and water appear from nothing for the whole world, but He created a world of order, where seeds grow if we plant them. He did that so that we could understand His creation; even be part of it. He made us custodians of His creation. And now, for us… Every day, God pulls apart the laws of reality to provide us with food. The difference between the bread from Jehovah and the grain from the Egyptians? It’s not that God won’t let us save it. It’s that He will never withhold it. The whole point of this deep wilderness is that nothing can survive, and every day Jehovah provides us miracles that sustain millions. And you think this is a sign of manipulation on His part? Wanting to keep you docile and obedient?”
“N-no, not-”
“Then what?”
“I’m afraid of Him!!” Deror got out finally.
Tzioni went silent. “Yes. You’ve been holding that in for far too long, son. Now tell me why.”
Deror was about to speak, when the horns blew loudly. Tzioni jumped up. Something had happened. “The scouts must have seen something!”
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