Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 10

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 10

© 2021 by Amber Wright

RUMORS

“No!” Junia gasped the word.

Demetrius could not be the thief. That, she was sure. She trusted him. Even Elder John trusted him. True, his troubled eyes had the look of a criminal. Or was it a man with that of a horrific past? But he did seem to be honest, and even Elder John had thought so.

“Junia?”

Besides, Demetrius was a bit proud—and proud people never stole; that was, unless they had reason to. Junia blinked, Nicolas’ voice suddenly registering into her brain. “What?”

“Even Deacon Demas is upset about this matter, and you know how long it takes for him to get stirred!”

You mean, it takes Deacon Demas a long time to get stirred about church matters—otherwise, he does get upset, she wanted to say but held her tongue wisely. However, the matter of the disappearing money was important, especially if somebody had stolen it. Still, she could not bring herself to say that Demetrius was their thief. Perhaps it was only a coincidence that the money had disappeared after he had started coming to church. Better still, perhaps someone was framing him. But who would do that—and why?

“It could have been anyone.” Junia found her voice protesting.

“Nobody else would do such a thing.” Nicolas retorted, little fiery sparks snapping from his brown eyes.

“Still,” Junia gave him an unflinching stare, “innocent until proven guilty.”

Nicolas shot her a hard stare, but said nothing.

“Go see fish!” Paul broke the tension with the demand, stretching one of his arms out towards the sparkling waters of the river now before them. “Down.”

“No, Paul,” Junia struggled to hold him while he stiffened to get down. “Be good for once!”

“You good, me good.” Paul smiled mischievously.

Junia cringed, and nodded to him. He was reminding her that if she wanted him to be good, she had be good herself. And that included not getting into disputes with Nicolas.

“I think we’re all,” she gave Nicolas and Judith an apologetic smile, “hungry. Let’s eat. I’m getting starved.”

Judith set the basket of food upon the ground with a placid smile. “I hope it tastes fine. I cooked it all.”

“I doubt it then.” Nicolas grabbed for the cloth covering the food. “However, I’m hungry.”

~

Later that week, Junia was at the weaver’s shop, ordering her fabric for a new robe to wear at Judith’s wedding. She felt the sample cloth again. The sturdy white linen would hold for a good long while. She said her goodbye and stepped onto the street. A blur of tan robe halted into the shape of Demetrius.

“Hello, my Fil’os.” Junia smiled up at him cheerfully.

He eyed her warily a moment before speaking. “Hello.”

“What is it? You look as if I’m going to bite you.”

“You’d not be the first today.” His voice sounded dull. Seeing her shock, he added quickly, “No, nobody bit into me literally. I just overheard some women talking about stolen money—with my name in the same breath.”

“Oh.” Junia felt uncomfortable so she turned the topic into something lighter. “And did they smile at you through squinted eyes when they saw you?”

Demetrius looked shocked. “How did you know?”

“That’s what they always do to me after I’ve ignored their precious sons. I know what they’re talking about. Me.”

“You mean, you know who they’re talking about.”

“Actually, they usually think of me as an object instead of a person. Maybe that’s because I stay in the shadows.”

“And they make the shadows.” Demetrius laughed.

“Who makes the shadows now?” Tiria stepped from the shadows of the street, giving Demetrius a sickeningly sweet smile. “Hello, Demetrius. Isn’t it such a beautiful day?”

“Hello.” Demetrius took a step back, looking baffled.

“Tiria, hello. How good to see you.” Junia's voice came out in a strained pitch. She felt like hurling Tiria back into the shadows, but she knew that was not the Christian thing to do. So she gave her a hug instead.

“Oh—Junia. Good day, my Adher’fi.” Tiria turned back to Demetrius. “I adopted her as my sister because we tend to fight more than not.”

Demetrius gave Junia a strange look and she felt her face burn in embarrassment. Mixed feelings washed over her, leaving her speechless. Inside, she lectured Tiria with a fierce warning, I don’t plan on sharing, thank you! She felt her face burn more. Demetrius was not hers not to share, and she did not like him. He was, after all, still quite a stranger to her. But…the word gave her brain a restless feeling.

“You still fight?” Demetrius was asking.

Junia looked off, ignoring them both.

For as long as Junia could remember, only the little boys liked her—probably because it made them feel more mature liking a girl older than them. However, the boys she used to liked were always taken…or practically taken. The thought made her feel two inches tall.

“Good day,” Junia felt her voice blend into the noise of the streets as she turned to go.

“But—what I was saying…” Demetrius called out.

She looked back. Tiria was nowhere to be seen, but she felt too confused and silly to speak now. She gave him a little wave and continued on her way, trying to gulp down her insecurity by the mouthfuls.

~

That evening, Deacon Demas and his family were there for supper. Junia picked at her food, feeling a little morbid cloud hovering over her. She swallowed the last of her milk.

Right then, Deacon Demas gave her a pointed look before turning to her father. “The young man we spoke about earlier is infectious. Watch him.”

Junia felt her heartbeat pound into her ears. At once she knew who they had been talking about: Demetrius. She felt a scream inside her, No! Demetrius is not infectious—nor is he a thief. We all can’t be “perfect Demas”, can we? She felt eyes upon her again, as if Deacon Demas was reading her thoughts. His cold stare made her shiver inside. Something about those eyes startled her.

A frozen moment later, Junia let out her breath. Those eyes…those creepy, beady black eyes. A little voice warned her, Be careful, Junia. The ones you fear sometimes are not to be afraid of, and the ones you don’t fear are to be feared. Watch him. Her eyes fell swiftly to her empty plate, and she waited for a pause in the conversation so she could excuse herself.

Shortly after, Junia found herself breathing the cool evening air in the vineyard and gazing at the snow-peaked mountains that filled the northern horizon. This was peace. To be away from the cold stare of Deacon Demas. To smell the withering grapevines. To walk on a carpet of pink and white myrtle petals. To hear the sound of silence.

Sitting there, she puzzled the mystery of Demetrius, Deacon Demas and the missing money from the church. Was it all connected? Or was there really a thief among them? Only time would tell.

Then there was Demetrius himself. Was he faking to be a Christian or was he being deliberately pushed from their church for some reason? Nicolas’ reason would be for jealousy for Demetrius’ good looks had caught all the girls attention; Judith’s reason would be that she wanted Junia to marry her brother Nicolas; and Deacon Demas’ reason was still unclear.

That, she decided, was the real mystery.

The sound of sandals brushing over dry grass broke into her hearing, and Junia nearly groaned out loud. There he was, her ever-present shadow when he was not away visiting with his mother. Fourteen years old and as sour as a lemon, Lucius was the sage of sarcasm.

“Meditating with the dead, are you?” came his tangy remark like a dagger splitting the peaceful atmosphere.

Junia jerked her concentrated stare from the small cluster of unripe grapes that had been left by the harvesters and eyed him in shock. “What?”

“There’s a body buried under that myrtle tree, in case you didn’t know.” Lucius made his usual facial expression of a smile-melting-into-a-frown.

“Oh. Is that why you came here,” Junia bit back a grin, “to meditate with your Fil’os Diana?”

“I am not a pagan!” Lucius’ brown eyes snapped.

“I didn’t say you were.” She turned her eyes back to the cluster of unripe grapes, giving him the hint that she wished to be left alone. However, Lucius never took hints.

“So, I’ve heard you like a thief.” He smugly added, “You would suit each other. You have that sneaky way about you, always running off whenever we come over.”

Junia stared at the grapevine silently, and then yanked a few dead grape leaves off a vine and let them fall.

“What do you have to say?” His tone sounded bitter.

Inside, Junia groaned. Must Lucius be told a thousand times? “Lucius, I think we’ve been through this subject at least once already. I’m too old for you. Just because I’ve grown up doesn’t mean you’ve grown up.”

Lucius pulled himself taller and placed his hands on his waist. “Fifteen is not grown up, Junia—in case you didn’t know!” he snapped back. “You’re only thirteen months older than I am. You’re just vain—you could drown in it!”

“Then if I’m vain, you’re jealousy itself.” Junia felt her steam rise by the second. “You do not own me, so don’t think you do!”

“The point is, you’re in love with a thief—a criminal!”

“I’m not in love with any thief, Lucius!” Junia walked over to a low hanging branch of a myrtle tree and plucked at the leaves distractedly.

“Then why do you talk to your precious Demetrius so much?” Lucius’ voice fell into a sneer. “Are you making a fool out of him, or is he making a fool out of you?”

Junia stared at the over-ripe blue myrtle berries. Does Lucius know something about Demetrius that I don’t?

“You think he loves you…but he doesn’t.”

Junia felt her heart stand still. Maybe Lucius did know something she did not. Thoughts whirled. Why does Lucius look like Demetrius? Is Demetrius married already? Or is he leaving? How would Lucius know? She watched Lucius slowly smile. Then she realized he was only tricking her into making her like him instead. Quickly, her thoughts scattered.

“If you say anything else about Demetrius being a thief, I shall—” Her voice cracked.

“You shall what?”

“I shall not speak to you. Ever!” The words came out in a hoarse whisper, and she turned her back to him.

“Maybe you’d like to hear this.”

Worry threaded into Junia. The tone of Lucius’ voice sounded too dangerous.

“Rumor has it that Demetrius has repeatedly stolen money from the church treasury, that you have associated with him in town, and that you have spoken to the harlot Andronika!”

Junia turned, reaching up to grasp a myrtle branch.

“Next, rumor will have it that you are in cahoots with Demetrius’ stealing and that you are a harlot yourself!”

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother