Lars Sveen - Children of God

“What little light I’m carrying,” said Nadab, “it mustn’t go out.”

I got up and told him to shut up.

“He won’t let anybody be put out,” said Nadab. “I’ve seen the lights flashing in the sky, we were in the storm. I’ve been waiting to do some good.”

His voice was low, as if he were speaking to somebody in the shadows and the darkness around us.

“Shut up, Nadab,” said Jehoram.

“Jesus is working through me,” said Nadab. “Look, we’re going to Jerusalem, and if it’s the only thing I do, I have to speak out, I have to tell them about the savior.”

I was on top of him at once. I struck him on the cheekbone, and his head jerked backward. I punched him once again and struck him near the hairline. My knuckles cracked, and it looked as if his head detached from his body. Reuben took hold of me. I tried to shake him off, but he held me tightly. Jehoram joined him now, and together they pushed me down. Jehoram let go of me, got up, and stared down at me.

“Get away,” I said. “Go and help him, I hit his head.”

Jehoram took a few steps, crouched over Nadab, and knelt down.

“He’s all right,” he said.

Reuben spat. I looked over at him.

“I’ll have none of it,” I said. “We stick together. He’s out of his mind.”

I got up, and Reuben laid a hand on my shoulder.

“If you want, I’ll keep an eye on him,” he said.

I nodded, and Reuben turned, walking out into the darkness. Jehoram looked at me with wonder in his eyes. Night had fallen around us. Jehoram had rolled Nadab over onto his back and had Nadab’s head between his feet.

“It’ll be all right, he’s awake, he’s fine,” Jehoram said.

I stood there. We were lit by the dying embers of the fire. Soon we’d be enveloped in the blackness that reached across the world and up to the great space above us where everything comes from.

Two days later, we were near Jerusalem. After passing Bethany, we stopped by the great gardens to rest. Nadab’s face was discolored. The morning after I’d knocked him to the ground, he’d woken up with a smile and asked me if my hand hurt as much as his head. Jehoram grinned and jostled him.

“You’re in perfect health,” Jehoram said to him. “What the hell were you drinking yesterday?”

Reuben had gone ahead to Jerusalem to see if anything had changed and if anybody was expecting the two men we’d killed. I knew that he thought we should keep going when night fell, not stopping there any longer. He wanted to head north to Sychar, lie low, and rest for a while. He wanted to be sure that nobody was out looking for us after what we’d done.

“I’ve got Anna in Sychar, I want to meet her again,” he said over and over again. “I promised her, she’s waiting for me.”

But I wanted to head to the coast, to Jaffa. The sea air would do Jehoram good, even though Jehoram always said he didn’t like the sea. He said it smelled like a woman’s piss.

Reuben came back, and he’d brought some food, bread and oil, grapes and olives. The sun was a piercing white glare. We sat in the shade of a tree.

“Everything looks normal,” Reuben said.

“That sounds good,” I said.

“Not necessarily,” he said.

“Don’t be so sure,” I said. “Remember that we’re special, we’re God’s chosen thieves, isn’t that right?”

“Go to hell, Jehoash,” said Reuben.

We smiled, ate, and prepared to enter the city. I helped Jehoram to cover himself up and wrapped his face so that only his eyes were visible. Nadab went over to Jehoram and took one of his hands.

“What is it?” Jehoram grumbled.

“I’ll go alone,” Nadab murmured, “but when I see you again …”

Jehoram pushed Nadab away before he could say any more.

“Stand still,” I said. “I can’t tie this up.”

“I can go alone too,” Jehoram said behind all the rags. “I don’t need you to look after me.”

“The two of us will go together, Jehoram,” I said. “If anything should happen, we’ll deal with it together.”

Jehoram said something unintelligible from beneath his dressings.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t want to stay too long in the sun,” he said. “It itches like hell.”

Jerusalem was a hive. Whatever could walk or crawl or buzz or hiss was moving about. We split up: Jehoram and I went to look for oil and ointment, cloth and blankets, while Nadab went off with Reuben. We were to meet again in the evening.

Jehoram cursed the heat and all the people walking around him. We went into a dark tavern, got something to drink, and came back out into the light and the heat. Animals roamed about, bleating and letting off smells that wafted about, mixing with everything else there. Some of the soldiers and the guards pushed anybody who came too close, shouted at them, grabbed young men and took knives from them that could barely shear the wool off a lamb. Some children came running up asking for money, and I waved them off before Jehoram could start tormenting them. An elderly lady with gray hair and gray eyes, and a mouth with nothing but a tongue inside, grabbed on to me and said she could pray for us. All possible worldly things were squeezed into this city: we even saw a cage of snakes, in the most peculiar colors.

As we stood in the shade by the colonnades in the temple square, Jehoram asked how they’d managed to get everything so straight, and who’d taken the trouble to build it all.

“What are we doing here anyway?” he asked.

“Be quiet, Jehoram,” I said. “Look around you, this is something you can take with you in your dreams when we leave here.”

Jehoram smirked. “I can’t see any girls,” he said. “All I can see is a damn big building.”

I wanted to see what it all looked like. I’d been there before, but it was some time ago, and I couldn’t remember much. It wasn’t the Temple itself I was interested in, a house of God, as if anybody was listening, as if anybody with such power would bother with such insignificant beings as us. Still, those two men we’d left back there, I couldn’t understand what they were thinking. How would they have got away? There were walls, stairs, guards. They were prepared to die, just to take the lives of a priest or two. I couldn’t understand what they were fighting for, or what they were fighting against. Killing a few people wouldn’t make any difference, spreading fear like that. This land is ruled by those who hold sway, so let them get on with it, let them hold sway. What else can we do but hold on to what little freedom we’re given?

“What are we doing here?” Jehoram asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “We’re just having a look around.”

Some children in rags sat there begging, and one of them stared at Jehoram and me. Jehoram asked him what he was looking at, and the boy barked at us. Before we could say anything, the boy was up on his feet, running away from us. Jehoram started to follow him, but I got a hold of him and told him to calm down.

“There are guards everywhere,” I said, pointing. “The soldiers are based not far from here, in the fortress.”

We walked toward the gate at the end of the open square. I started going up the steps, and Jehoram followed me, mumbling about us not going to be let in. When we’d made it through the gate, I heard someone speaking loudly. Around us, a number of people were starting to gather. Jehoram grinned and said that maybe it was a gladiatorial contest, but he cut off and his face took on a strange expression. The sound of the speaker reached us, a voice that was loud and clear. It was Nadab.

We followed the others going toward the Holy Temple. Everything had become strange and quiet. The only sound was of Nadab speaking. His words grated, tumbled between the walls, and reverberated back and forth. Jehoram tried to force his way through all the people standing there, but he gave up. Some guards pushed him away, as they were trying to get there themselves. I stretched up and stared at Nadab. He couldn’t see me, and his eyes were full of tears. In his hands he held a sword and a dagger. How he’d got hold of a sword I had no idea. He threatened the guards with the weapons, telling them to stay back.