Ashura was dancing joyfully, when the music suddenly fell apart. She nearly tripped, thrown off her rhythm, as she looked to the musicians. Little by little, the people had noticed, looking up the mountain. There at a ridge that led up the mountainside, coming into view was a familiar figure.
Moses had returned.
Ashura beamed, as though she had conjured him herself. “We made a festival for Jehovah, and he came!”
Tzioni wasn’t smiling. In fact, a lot of people weren’t. Ashura wasn’t sure why, but she felt like she was about to get in trouble. Moses was storming directly for the Calf. As he got closer, she saw he had two large stone tablets under his arm. She caught a glance at one of the tablets, and saw writing carved smoothly into the stone. She didn’t know a lot of Hebrew writing, but she could recognize it.
He climbed down the ridge, and Ashura could see his face. Moses was furious. And beneath that, abject sadness. He was more miserable than he was the day he’d proclaimed the Tenth Plague on Egypt. Whatever he was seeing, it had broken his heart.
Why? Ashura wondered.
Moses was close enough to see everyone clearly, including Aaron and the Calf. There was suddenly dead silence between them.
“What is this?” Moses asked, voice hoarse. From his vantage point, he could see all of them. In the silence, his voice carried enough to be audible. When there was no answer, he raised his voice to an almost shrill scream. “WHAT IS THIS!?”
Ashura jumped. So did a lot of people. They’d come up with a hundred ways to explain they weren’t doing anything really bad. Sure, they’d all heard people warning them, but they’d all decided to join the party. Even more people were waiting to see what happened before they joined in. Surely Jehovah knew they needed a celebration. Something really wild to wipe out stress, and… Why couldn’t Moses see that?
With nobody responding, Moses let out a roar and threw the stone tablets over the side of the ridge, down the mountainside. Ashura’s eyes locked on the tablets as they fell out of her sight.
“This… is bad.” Tzioni said quietly.
Ashura was still looking after the tablets. “But we were doing this for Jehovah! He can’t be that mad.”
Aaron was walking towards Moses, hands up. He was speaking low, with his back to them, so Ashura couldn’t hear what he was saying. Moses stormed straight past Aaron to the idol. He snatched up one of the torches that lit the Golden Calf, and speared the blunt end into the head of the idol. It splintered instantly, the thin layer of Gold over the wooden heart was still barely set.
There was a harsh murmur from the partygoers. Some were backing away from the crowd, trying to be invisible. Others were getting angry, yelling at Moses for what he was doing to ‘their god’.
Ashura was already moving towards the base of the mountain. After a few steps, she paused and turned back to Tzioni. “You can convince him.” She said with certainty. “You’re one of the respected Elders of the assembly. Once he cools off a bit, I’m sure he’ll be reasonable.”
Tzioni looked like he’d been punched in the face. The easy light that had been there while she danced for him had vanished. “I… yes.” He said finally. “I’ll explain it to him once he calms down.”
Moses was still smashing the Calf into pieces, with hot angry tears streaming down his face. While everyone was watching, he started throwing the ragged bits into the flames of the altar they had built in front of the Calf, for making offerings to it.
~/*\~
Satau had run after Ashura once he noticed where she was going. “So. What are the odds they’ll blame everything on the Egyptians?”
“You didn’t do anything we didn’t all do.” Ashura told him, unconcerned. She looked up the side of the mountain, rising steeply over them, calculating something, before she went down into the rocks that had slid down the side over the years, searching among the rubble. “There were thousands of people at that party. Enough that Moses will have to take them seriously, if he wants to remain our leader.”
“I’m not so sure. When I left, Moses was tossing ashes from the altar into the stream. That’s our drinking water, and…” The former acolyte finally noticed her actions properly. “What are you looking for?”
“Those stone tablets that Moses threw away.” Ashura pointed up the ridge. “That was where he was when he threw them down here. I only saw a glimpse, but they had writing on them.”
“More laws?” Satau guessed. “What does it matter? If they were stone, there was no way they survived this kind of drop.”
“Well, I admit I don’t read Hebrew, but Moses didn’t take any carving tools up the Mountain with him.” Ashura said excitedly. “And I saw enough to know he didn’t scratch the writing with a pointy rock.” She looked back at him, eyes bright with that fanatical eagerness. “There were only two people at the top of the mountain. Moses, and Jehovah.”
Stunned that he hadn’t thought of it, Satau started looking alongside her. “Something carved by the hand of God, directly? Wow. What would that be worth, I wonder?”
~/*\~
The two of them had searched for hours, and not found anything, but they’d resolved to go back the next day. The Calf was gone, and the majority of the ‘Assembly’ was still gathered. From the outside, Ashura could see there was a loose row of people keeping them around the cold, burned out altar. By going after the fragments of the holy relics, they’d escaped the cordon.
“I don’t like the look of that.” Satau noted.
“Where’s Moses?” Ashura asked, craning her neck to look. She stopped him at the entrance to the Camp, with the Tribe of Levi gathering around him. Tzioni was walking nearby him, his posture said he was explaining, with full humility. “Well, Tzioni will sort it out. The Law is only a few weeks old. A little starting trouble is to be expected. And Moses can surely see we needed to celebrate.”
Satau was about to answer, when the conversation with Moses ended. In full view of everyone, Moses gestured to one of the Levite Elders, who promptly drew a sword and cut Tzioni’s head clean off.
Ashura let out a squeak, like a scream that didn’t have time to gather breath. Moses shouted to those gathered around him. They were too far to hear the words, close enough to hear the anger. The Levites apparently had their orders, as they all drew swords and picked up lances.
“Ashura.” Satau said, voice hoarse. “Run!”
~/*\~
They caught Ashura in Tzioni’s tent. She was scrubbing at the make-up frantically, tearing off the Egyptian dress, trying madly to get rid of all the traces of her old life. The chains and symbols of the gods were scattered on the floor already.
The tent flap flew back, and the tip of a spear came in first.
Ashura spun. The sounds of yelling and violence were already coming in from outside. “Please!” She shouted, scrambling back against the tent walls. “Please, Hathor, Anubis, Ptah… Someone save me!”
Nobody did.
~/*\~
The cordon that kept most of the revelers in one place wasn’t armed in time, and the ringleaders of the celebration were all trying to escape. Satau was able to keep ahead of them for a few minutes, but he knew it wasn’t long.
Satau ran to Takarut’s tent, calling ahead. “Takarut! My friend! We have to go! Back to Egypt! Back to-” He entered the tent. Takarut wasn’t there. “Where are you?! We have to get out of here!”
The tent flap opened. It wasn’t Takarut.
~/*\~
Takarut was coiled in on himself, sitting on the floor of Ohad-Ittai’s tent. Ohad-Ittai was with him. So was Leahe, the three of them hiding from the people they loved most.
Leahe reached out and rubbed his back as the sounds of Satau’s shouting were cut horribly short. There was the sound of violence elsewhere in the camp. Tent walls did nothing to block the sounds.
“You were slaves.” Takarut whispered. “You had no weapons, until you took them from us. That was an Egyptian sword that just killed my friend.”
Ohad-Ittai blinked. “Does that matter?”
“Not really.” Takarut admitted. “He was the only one in this camp that I… That I thought of as being ‘just like me’.”
Leahe was crying. “It was over. It was OVER. We were Free!”
Ohad-Ittai was the one that spoke clearly to them both. “Listen to me. Neither of you have done anything wrong.” He made sure they were both looking at him, as the sound of sobbing came from somewhere outside. “I mean it. Your friend broke the First Law that our God ever gave us. But you didn’t.” He turned to Leahe. “Neither did you, though your own father and Elder was one of the leaders in this disaster.” He let out a breath. “And me. The men I was trying to organize for an uprising in Egypt, the men I was trying to win respect from, so they would follow me at the Red Sea? They were telling me to join the party, and set myself up as a natural leader over the people celebrating. I know they wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t wound them up like that.”
“You don’t know that.” Leahe offered. “I still don’t know if God gives guilt by association. Does the story of the world begin with our ancestors making a bad choice, and all those who follow them have to deal with the consequences?”
“If that’s the case, then they may as well kill us all.” Ohad-Ittai said bitterly. “Because we didn’t stop them. None of us really tried to stop them. I saw thousands of people say something, and then stay back. Thousands more wanted to see what happened, hoping it would be okay. And why? Because some of us wanted to go our own way, form our own faction, make our own rules. Thousands more just wanted to dance, drink, and party all night.”
“He’s right.” Takarut said quietly. “During the Plagues, I went to the middle of town and declared that Jehovah was taking action, no matter what lies the Palace and the Temples were telling them.” He gestured in the direction of his tent. “Satau was one of the people coming up with those stories. I made the case for Jehovah, against Satau’s father.” He turned wide, haunted eyes on Leahe. “These people are our family, and nobody made the case for Jehovah.
~/*\~ Mirah ~/*\~
Today was the day. Mirah had been ready since before dawn, heading to the location listed in the Gold Letter; filled with nervous energy.
When Paige caught up, Mirah was sitting on a park bench, reading aloud to herself from Exodus 34. “Moses hurried to bow low to the earth and prostrate himself. Then he said: ‘If, now, I have found favor in your eyes, O Jehovah, then please, Jehovah, go along with us in our midst, although we are an obstinate people, and forgive our error and our sin, and take us as your own possession.’ In turn he said: ‘Here I am making a covenant: Before all your people, I will do wonderful things that have never been done in all the earth or among all the nations, and all the people among whom you live will see the work of Jehovah, for it is an awe-inspiring thing that I am doing with you.’” She looked up at Paige. “I spoke with the Judge. Rogelio reminds me that this world is full of people who made the case for Jehovah. And that all of the history of both my people and yours were just… works in progress, getting us here.”
Paige nodded. “We’re all works in progress, sister. What that Angel said about the ‘vast canvas’ we’ve got… The whole point of eternal life is that we never really get to the end of it.”
“I hope so.” Mirah smiled. “I especially hope so for my daughter.” She smothered a laugh. “Not a son. A daughter. Who had a whole life…” She shivered hard. “What if she decides she doesn’t need me at all? What if she-”
“Oh no you don’t.” Paige laughed. “You finally got used to one ‘worst case scenario’, don’t go looking for more until you meet her.”
“Right.” Mirah agreed, and started praying quietly.
Paige began to pray silently as well. Jehovah God, Mirah has spent her entire life as a slave. Mentally preparing for horror and ‘worst case scenarios’ are as normal to her as breathing. She thinks about doom and gloom for the same reason I locked my door at night. Because it was a sensible precaution, to be ready for something that could happen at any time. I admit, I still lock my door at night, though there is no danger. It might take a full thousand years to let go of all these instincts… Thank you for being patient with us.
At the right moment, there was a sound like someone breathing in and out at the same time. They turned and found a woman had appeared there. Her hair was gray, her posture stooped; and her face creased from a long, hard life. She seemed older than she was. There was a sense of… exhaustion about her; and she looked around in confusion. She looked down at her hands like she was expecting them to vanish. One of them in particular. She felt along her arm in disbelief, flexing her fingers, so focused she hadn’t noticed anyone else nearby.
Paige noted all this with concern. Even elderly ones returned with full health and vitality. Whatever had this woman bent over and broken down wasn’t anything physical.
“Leahe?” Mirah said, voice quavering a little as she gained the newcomers' attention. “It’s me.”
Leahe started at her, uncomprehending. “Where am I?”
Mirah stepped forward, reaching for her, tears in her eyes. “Safe. With me. At long last… daughter.”
Leahe went buggy-eyed as a woman half her age professed to be her long lost mother, hugging her tightly. It was a long time before she thought to hug back. Even longer before she thought to use both arms.
~/*\~
Paige had stayed out of it for a while, keeping a respectful distance, until Mirah could get across to her daughter that it was really happening. They really were mother and daughter. They really had been returned to life. They really were in Paradise.
While Leahe and Mirah talked, Paige laid out the blanket and set out some food for them. After what seemed like hours, the two of them came over to join Paige for a meal. Leahe still looked like she was walking through a dream; but she was looking around now, taking in everything. She saw the cars, saw the food; like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
As she scanned about, her mother made introductions. “Paige, this is Leahe. Leahe, this is Paige, a dear friend of mine. I’ve learned a lot from her, and so can you.”
Leahe finally focused on Paige, and nodded. “Hello. I’m Leahe… daughter of Mirah.”
Paige smiled warmly. “It’s good to meet you finally.” She indicated the picnic. “Please, help yourself.”
Leahe considered her options for a moment, and took a bite of an apple. She immediately burst out laughing. “I was afraid I’d never taste anything but manna ever again.”
Paige laughed with her. She’d never tasted manna before, and admitted to herself she was curious what it would be like. Mirah had heard the same stories, but hadn’t been there herself. Leahe reached for the basket without being asked and started looking at everything in it. Grapes. Bread. Cheese. Strawberries. She tried one of each and kept laughing, until the tears started flowing. Paige watched helplessly as their new charge started having a breakdown, just from lunch.
Mirah understood and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “It’s more than even the Pharaohs would be served, my dear one, and it’s given freely to us all.”
The old woman was nearly bawling, rocking like a baby as her young mother held her tightly.
“Mama…” Leahe said shakily, acknowledging their connection as fact. “There’s… there’s so much. Not all of it good.”
“I’m sure.” Her mother told her gently. “But we’ve got time. We don’t have to go through it all tonight…”
“It may take a long time.” Leahe sniffed, getting herself under control.
“Believe me, daughter.” Mirah assured her. “You have no idea what’s going to happen to you now; and it won’t be anything like what you expect. But for all the confusion and uncertainty I’ve felt trying to find my footing, Jehovah God has given us a reunion already. There will be far more. You’ll finally meet your grandparents. Your father will be back with us-”
“Will he?” Leahe asked suddenly, her voice going flat. So flat and hard that Paige and Mirah traded a look, realizing they’d just hit a nerve.
“It will take time.” Paige said finally. “Longer than any of us think, probably. But that’s still just a drop in the bucket. The old world left us all with scars, outside and inside. And if it takes a thousand years to heal, that’s still just a taste of what’s coming for the world.” She reached out and clasped Leahe’s wrinkled, knotted hand. “But if Jehovah God didn’t want you here, all He would have to do is not raise you. He reached back thousands of years, and refuted the grave itself, just to show you a world that He always wanted us to live in.”
“She’s right, daughter.” Mirah promised. “God made man. Men made chains. And now God has broken those chains, forever. This was the Promised Land the way it was always meant to be. Not just the one Moses promised, but the one Jehovah promised.”
Leahe started to cry again, and Paige felt tears welling in her own eyes in sympathy. “I know this feeling.” Paige said to Leahe, soft and serious. “You feel like you don’t belong here, because you have no idea what ‘here’ means. You want to believe it’s really happening, but you don’t know what to do; because it’s so far removed from everything you know.”
Leahe nodded.
“Well it’s lucky for you that I have some experience with this feeling. So does your mother.” Paige promised, pulling out her Bible. “We can help.”
Leahe looked up at her mother automatically, who nodded her agreement, still giving her long-lost daughter a tight embrace. “Okay.” Mirah said softly. “Let’s get started.”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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