When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,81

and ginger.

As soon as I smelled it I felt my throat constrict. “Just put it … down,” I managed to rasp to Mary. “Sleep a bit. Eat later.”

I did sleep then, but fitfully. My dreams were filled with images of a snake coiled around my neck, strangling me. When, in my dream, I struggled to free myself from its coils, it turned into a black cord knotted about my throat being tugged ever tighter by Lord Caiaphas and his scribe Ra’nabel.

Mary’s touch on my forehead woke me. “So sorry, brother. You were making terrible noises, writhing on the bed. It sounded like you were calling for help.”

“Just …” My throat hurt so badly I had to pause before adding, “. dreaming.”

Her arms under my shoulders helped me prop upright. My head felt as if it weighed far too much for my neck to support. The least jostling filled my head with the sense a grinding stone was rolling around inside it.

She gave me a sip of water, for which I was grateful, but when she held the mug to my lips a second time I waved it away. Mary prayed for me then. In Jesus’ name, she asked the Almighty to recognize how diligently I had worked to save the Sparrows and requested I be shown the same miracle of restoration as they.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, bright sunshine streamed in. Outside the cottage’s window an almond tree displayed its exuberant rebirth in showy pink blossoms.

A trio of caregivers surrounded my bed. Mary, Tavita, and Peniel formed a knot of silent witnesses. Had they been standing over me all night? Was I so ill that they thought I was going to die? Or was I dreaming now?

Mary spoke: “Good to see you awake, brother. Martha sends her love and a pot of stew.” She nodded toward Peniel, who raised the lid of the kettle he carried and inhaled appreciatively. “Smells wonderful, Master David,” he observed. His stomach growled.

I had no appetite. My coughing was not as violent, but only because I had no strength left in my exhausted frame.

By what I knew to be a feeble gesture, I waved away the soup. With fragments of words I vowed to have some later.

“You must eat to recover your strength,” Mary insisted.

Speaking required too much effort. I shook my head gingerly. I saw Mary exchange a worried glance with Tavita. When Tavita volunteered to coax me to eat, as she had successfully done with my boys, I allowed her to try.

I could not find any aroma or any taste in the broth, but that was of no concern to me. The liquid seemed to get stuck halfway down my throat. A pain built in my chest, as if I had swallowed a stone, and it was blocking the passage to my stomach. Each drop required a supreme effort of will to force down.

I could only manage a few swallows before I shook my head again. Between the soreness of my throat and the bouts of coughing, I feared I would choke. In any case I was not hungry.

The three of them left then, but I overheard their conference through the thin walls of the cabin.

Mary insisted I was getting better.

Tavita replied that Mary had not seen my throat or tongue. “We should send for Jesus. Now. At once. Send Peniel today.”

I would have shouted and told them no, but I had no breath or strength for shouting. Feebly I called, but no one heard me.

Then I heard Mary complete my refusal for me: “My brother would never agree to call Jesus back into danger. We pulled all the boys through this. We’ll pull David through as well. You’ll see.”

I lay back on the pillow then, as tired as if I had fought a great battle.

Outside the window a flotilla of clouds drifted past, like an armada of galleys coasting down the wind. I admired the lack of effort, the ease with which they floated. Of course they could not stop nor turn against the wind. All they could do is run before it until they piled up against a mountain peak or dissolved above the hot sands of the desert.

At the moment either choice was preferable to where I lay and how I felt.

Chapter 27

Was it morning or evening? Dawn or twilight? I could not tell. The light in the cottage was dim, but it seemed to neither increase nor decrease. I tried to lift my head to look