Lars Sveen - Children of God

Still, Ruth couldn’t bring herself to go to her. She didn’t want to meet Reuben again either. He reminded her of men she’d been with too. The sort of men who could hit you on the face just as suddenly as they might scratch at their hair. But Anna was still in one piece anyway, Ruth thought, and she was still surprised at that, as the first times she’d met Reuben, she didn’t think he had it in him to show feelings or love. But she gradually came to think that there was something delicate about the way he spoke about Anna, something reassuring about the way he hung around her house. After what Aaron had done to her little sister, Ruth was happy, in a way, that Reuben was there to look after her.

But Ruth was wrong, and when she realized it, she cursed herself and her own cowardly, failed dreams.

It happened when she least expected it, on a day nobody would remember. The sky was gray, the wind was blowing, sudden gusts making people rub their eyes or spit and cough. You could smell the rain, and her man was nowhere to be found. Ruth returned to an empty house, with only a few things left. A chipped dish, a frayed rug with holes in it, a pair of slippers that were as stiff and hard as planks of wood. Ruth immediately realized what had happened. She realized that he’d gone, she knew that she’d been abandoned. She didn’t go about asking questions or searching for answers, she wouldn’t let questions slip into her mind. That’s the way of the world.

She went to the well. The damp smell of the water and the hint of scent from the flowers had been blown away. There was no birdsong to be heard, only a soft rustle of bushes and twigs and something beating, going thump, thump, thump in her ears, inside her chest, down inside her stomach. Ruth got up and walked slowly back to the town. She wanted to see Anna, she wanted to hold her sister. The words Ruth said, everything she came up with to keep Anna on the straight and narrow, it all had to be said now. She had to say it loud and clear, so that everything would be fixed and cling to it. So her world would again be a place to belong, a place to be tied to.

But when she arrived at Anna’s house, it was empty. There were small, dark stains on the floor. Ruth knew what it was even before she brushed her fingers over it and smelled it.

“God,” she said, “dear God, don’t let him take my sister.”

Ruth stopped some children who were running past, knocked on neighbors’ doors, asking them if they’d seen anything, if they’d heard anything. Eventually, a woman who lived nearby said that Reuben had come to ask for help. He was carrying Anna, her leg was broken, and the bone was sticking out. Ruth wanted to know where they were going, where they’d gone.

“I don’t know,” said the woman. “I told them to go to the old man who lives over on the flats toward Shechem. He’s helped us before.”

Ruth asked where that was, thanked the woman, and went off straightaway. She didn’t know what to think. Reuben had saved Anna, he’d carried her alone to get help. But what had happened? Had Aaron come back? Had Anna fallen and hurt herself? Or was it Reuben, who’d then regretted it and wanted to make everything right again?

“Oh God, dear God,” she whispered to herself. “Take care of Anna, take care of my little sister, I beg you, please, dear God.”

When Ruth found the way to the little house where the old man lived, she was met by Reuben, who didn’t want to let her in at first. He said she should go away. Ruth hadn’t seen him like this before. He stared straight at her, grabbed her by the shoulder, and pushed her away from him. His eyes were red, and his hands were stained with Anna’s blood.

“What have you done?” asked Ruth. “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

“He’s going to heal her,” Reuben said. “He’s promised me. Just go, get away from here.”

“No,” said Ruth. “I don’t want to go, I want to see my sister, I want to be with Anna, let me in.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” said Reuben, grabbing her. “Go away, she’ll be fine, but you’ve got to get away, leave this place, now.”

But Ruth wouldn’t listen to him. She tried to tear herself free, she started screaming, then Reuben held her close, begging her to keep quiet.

“Just let her in,” came a voice from inside. Ruth stopped screaming and stood still, but Reuben was still holding on to her.

“Go,” said Reuben. “Leave now.”

“Come in, Ruth,” said the voice again. Ruth escaped Reuben’s hands and stooped as she went through the low door.

Anna was lying on a mat. One leg and foot were bound in rags, and next to the mat was a dish of bright red water. An old man sat on the ground, stroking Anna over the head. He turned toward Ruth; his eyes were a grayish white.

“Big sister,” he said. “There you are.”

Ruth stayed silent, looking at Anna, then at the old man, and then back at Anna again.

“I’m blind, and yet I see many things,” he said. “I’m what stays in the shadows while the light falls elsewhere. I’m going to heal your sister. She’ll be able to start all over again.”

“I’ll look after her,” said Ruth. “She has nobody else but me. I have nobody else but her.”

“You don’t have each other anymore now,” the old man said. “She was given to me.”

“She hasn’t been given to anybody,” said Ruth, going over to Anna and kneeling down by the mat. She took hold of Anna and tried to pull her up.

The old man got up and stood facing Ruth. It seemed as if he were staring at her, but his eyes had no power. The old man smiled. “Reuben,” he said, “it’s a good thing you’re here.”

Then Ruth suddenly felt Reuben grab hold of her, lift her up, and pull her toward him. One of his hands was over her throat, while the other held her hands together.

“Anna was going to fall and be destroyed,” said the old man, “just how women like you fall. But when Reuben broke her leg, he chose to do good, to lift her up and run around trying to find help. He wanted to save her. He came to me and asked me to make her well again. You’re surprised at that, I bet.”

Ruth tried to speak, but Reuben told her to keep her mouth shut.

“No, no,” said the old man. “Let her talk, it doesn’t matter. It’s already decided what will happen anyway.”

“Let go of her,” said Ruth. “Let us go.”

“She’s free,” said the old man. “Reuben’s made sure of that. I would’ve preferred her to stay what she is, a woman like you. A woman who’ll fall, be destroyed, disappear, rotting away in the arms of everybody tearing her apart. She was on her way there. Maybe she’ll be something else now, or maybe she’ll fall back into the same pattern. But Reuben and I have made a trade. He did good when he came begging for Anna’s life. I’m asking him to do evil again, so that I won’t lose him, so that Reuben won’t leave my story.”

Ruth tried to tear herself away, but Reuben held her tight.

“He’s not going to let go of you,” said the old man. “And do you know why? He’s not letting go of you because he’s got to do something bad, now that he’s done this good thing for Anna.”

Ruth felt herself trembling. She pushed both her feet hard against the floor, trying to stand still.

“Don’t do it, Reuben,” she said. “I’m her sister, you don’t need to do anything. Just let us go.”

“You don’t understand,” said the old man. “I have to say this over and over again. Reuben did something I wasn’t expecting when he saved your sister. He pulled himself out of the story I’d prepared for him. So I have to get him back and get rid of the good he’s done. He can have Anna, as long as he goes back into his own story. That’s why I’m telling him now: take Ruth, and do what you normally do.”