Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 26

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 26

© 2021 by Amber Wright

A TROPHY FOR HIS NAME

“You will have this room.” Junia excitedly tapped the door of the room across from her bedroom a short while later.

Andronika felt her eyes widen as Junia opened the door grandly and stepped back to let her to pass. They stood there a moment analyzing the contents of the room. All the bedroom furniture was still there from the previous servant who had lived there, besides the bedclothes on the bed. Even a half-burnt candle still lay in its holder on the little table by a window.

“It even smells fresh.” Andronika sniffed deeply, walking around the room. It was bare but nicely furnished. “Do you still use this room? I mean, is it alright if I take this room?”

“Quite alright.” Junia paced the room, looking into all the drawers and shelves. “It hasn’t been used for over a year now since we dismissed our servants.”

Andronika ran her hand along the smoothness of the desk. It was too good to be true, she thought.

“But I think…” Junia paused and opened her blue eyes wide. “I’ve heard footsteps walking in here when the moon is full!”

Andronika felt her mouth drop, her hand midair. “Y-you don’t m-mean…?”

Junia giggled and waved her hand cheerfully. “I’m just teasing. Not a sound comes from this room—except from me when I come in to clean it.”

“Oh.” Andronika closed her mouth.

Junia walked past her, opening all three windows on both corner walls grandly, and seated herself on a windowsill. “A beautiful view here.” She nodded towards the golden wheat field, and then to the next wall. “Those two other windows face the street.”

“Then, if you please…” Andronika stepped back from the opened windows. “May I take the room beside yours? I would like to see the vineyard instead of the street.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Junia smiled breezily. “Very forgetful of me. The vineyard is a prettier view than the dirty street. Alright, let’s go there,” and her friend closed the windows before leading her into the next room.

When the door opened, Andronika immediately breathed in the aroma of sweetness…which made her sigh rapturously. A little butterfly danced inside her stomach—of joy, of hope, of excitement. Harvest was just around the corner…and what a time to sing! A few more days and the harvesting would begin. A crispness filled the air, tingling her breath.

“Something about this side of the house is so refreshing!” Junia voiced Andronika’s thoughts. “Two of my windows face the vineyard too. My other window faces the wheat field where my brother-in-law works. That side’s pretty as well.”

Then Junia stopped speaking and looked around the room at everything with an alert set of eyes. At the bed, the shelves, the floor filled with bright-colored woven rugs. At the large vase sitting on the little table by the window facing the wheat field which framed the room with a yellowy, breezy setting.

“I like this room better.” Andronika stroked the little mulberry wooden desk that set between the two windows facing the vineyard. “A nice place to write.”

“And relax.” Junia added, flashing a grin. “I’ve got the exact same desk. Here, I’ll show you.” She rushed into her bedroom where the twin mulberry wooden desk set exactly in the same place, between the two windows facing the vineyard. “There it is. Perfectly matching, see?”

“How nice.” Andronika stroked the matching smooth desk with a smile. “We must be twins and don’t know it.”

“We probably are.” Junia teased with a smile, plopping onto the windowsill facing the wheat field. “And we just got separated from birth like one of those Roman legends.”

At that, Andronika felt her laugh shoot from her. Life was returning with a cheerful note. Birds chirping echoed into the room from the open window. She blinked, startled. Why was Junia staring at the wheat field, looking too sober?

“I wonder…” Junia even sounded too sober. “How many grains of wheat comes out of that field?”

Andronika had no idea.

“And I wonder how many grains of wheat it takes to make one bun.”

“Uncountable, I would say.” Andronika sat on a windowsill facing the vineyard and looked around, content, thinking about her new room—mold-less, crack-less, sturdy, fresh-smelling, hers.

“Grains sure are small.” Junia turned back around.

“And the mustard seed,” Andronika's thoughts turned deep, “is the smallest grain of all.”

“Just think!” Junia sounded excited. “Jesus said if we had only the faith of a mustard seed, we could move mountains. That is amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is. I suppose it was your mustard seed faith that brought me back…and Demetrius back, too. You never gave up on us, did you?”

“I couldn’t.”

Andronika knew the words came straight from Junia's heart.

“My conscience wouldn’t let go of you…or Demetrius. I believed God would move my mountains no matter what. Now, there’s one more mountain to fall yet. Even if it crumbles piece by piece or if it suddenly falls all at once, it’s still God that does the moving. I’ve just got to wait.”

~

The next evening, Junia watched little Andronika while her mother helped Martha and Andronika move their belongings to the villa. As she was putting clean bedclothes on the beds and tidying up the two rooms, she thought about Alexander’s private burial the evening before…

Andronika’s face had looked so drawn, so sad, so lifeless as she watched her husband being lowered in a crude wooden bier made by Demetrius himself. Little had been said before or after the ceremony. Elder John had spoken briefly over the young man’s body. Then it had been time to go home.

Martha had had to lead Andronika out from the circle of trees—where they had chosen to bury him in that quaint, little nest of mulberry trees beside the Cayster River. Under the bright blue autumn sky, Alexander was laid to rest…in this rich, brown dirt of Lydia. Junia once again had the charge of little Andronika who had been strangely silent and sober as if she knew her father had died and this was his final resting.

…Junia now looked at little Andronika’s inquisitive dark eyes and soundly kissed her cheek, realizing the half-orphan she was. She would need love, this fatherless child—and plenty of it, too, for whenever Junia kissed her she would nestle her little head between Junia’s neck and shoulder as if thanking her. Adorable child! So sweet… She inhaled a deep breath. Time to fix supper.

~

Supper came. Junia was taking out the last bun from the oven when she heard a footstep on the brick floor. She carefully placed the bun into the large wooden bowl filled with other buns, and looked up.

“Demetrius!” Junia tried to hide the excitement in her voice but she knew he caught it for he wore a pleased smirk. “It’s good to see you around here again. It seemed so empty without—”

She stopped abruptly, scolding herself fiercely; then, she stared down at the bowl of steaming buns, blinking foolishly. Such a stupid thing to say!

“Me?” Demetrius raised his eyebrows, smiling huge now.

“I forget what I was saying…” Junia answered evasively, reaching to pick up the bowl of buns.

“Here, I’ll take that.” Demetrius offered, grabbing the bowl before she could protest. “I’m starving,” he gave her a lop-sided grin.

“Thank you.” Junia felt her voice quiver as she looked up at him bravely.

“You’re welcome.” Demetrius nodded for her to walk ahead of him.

Demetrius set the bowl of buns on the table in the kitchen where everyone had gathered and Junia stopped at the table, twitching her fingers at her sides out of habitual reflex. A little butterfly twittered inside her, upsetting her appetite.

“Now, we are all here.” Elder John spoke, looking at all the faces standing around the table. “Let us join hands and thank our blessed Lord for this bountiful meal.”

Junia’s hands shook nervously as she joined hands with Demetrius and Andronika standing on either side of her, and her heart pounded away.

“We thank You, Pah’tehr, for the return of these two precious lambs,” Elder John ended his prayer with these words as he asked the blessing over the food. “May they shine, dear Lord, in this dark world we live in. And may they be examples of Your grace as trophies for Your Name. We ask in Your wonderful Name, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

Everyone sat down and began devouring the food set before them. Conversation picked up as their plates and cups began to empty. Junia found herself taking her last bite. She had managed to eat her entire plateful of food, somehow, through difficult swallowing.

“The truth is being told,” Elder John said.

Junia perked her ears. She had been too busy trying to swallow during the meal to listen.

“The truth will be told,” Elder John took a firm breath, “tomorrow.”

Every eye stared at him, and Junia wondered what all he would say.

“I have come to the conclusion of the matter.” Elder John cleared his throat decidedly. “Deacon Demas will be exposed as a thief, a liar, a man who spoke false accusation and a traitor to the Faith!”

Deathly silence followed, and Junia feared her heartbeat would shatter the stillness with its thundering.

Elder John spoke again. “The meeting is set for tomorrow afternoon and all the elders will be present, including myself.”

The meal ended.

“I will do the dishes.” Andronika gave Junia a knowing smile.

Junia started to pick up a dish as Demetrius was making dragging steps towards the patio. The men had already gone to the vineyard.

“You can hold little Andronika. She needs some fresh air,” and Andronika held out the baby.

Junia took her without an argument but with a smile. As she stepped out the kitchen door, she saw Demetrius holding onto the latticed roof with one hand and staring into the fiery-orange sunset. The surrounding hills and grapevines shone like pure gold, looking misty…and mystic. She took this all in as sat on a reed-woven chair to hold little Andronika in the fresh air, and to have a breath of fresh air herself. She pulled the blanket closer over the baby, letting only her little chubby face peek through. With the sinking sun came coolness.

Demetrius turned around after the baby began gurgling noisily. He sat down on the chair facing the sunset. Junia watched him sideways through her dark eyelashes and admiration soared higher as she saw the fiery glow of sunset make his face look even bronzer than ever. Just like a Roman warrior, only better, she thought on the verge of trembling with sudden nervousness.

Junia, he’s only a human being like yourself. Don’t be such a silly

goat! Besides— Her thoughts blanked when he spoke.

“How’s the baby?” Demetrius leaned over to get a good look at the little chubby face sticking out from the white, woolly blanket.

“She’s doing good.” Junia smiled at the bundle in her arms. “Do you want to hold her?”

“No, that’s alright.” Demetrius shook his head and gave her a gaping stare. The sunset must make everything look beautiful, golden, perfect. “I’m always afraid I’ll drop those little things.”

Junia mutely nodded, not thinking up anything grand enough to say in return.

“Besides, I can see her better from here. I’ve got a pretty good view.”

Junia nodded yet another time, stricken silent. Speak, Junia…

you’ve got a tongue. Don’t you? At least I think— Her thoughts blanked again.

“Sure are little things.” Demetrius studied the little chubby face.

Junia's words bubbled out before she could think. “It’s strange to think a little thing like this,” she could not help but notice his large liquid eyes and terribly thick black eyelashes as she spoke, “to grow up to be as large as you.”

“Strange.” Demetrius sat back in his seat with a serious expression. “It’s strange to think of an innocent little thing like that to grow up to do as bad things as I have.” He dropped his eyes, looking troubled, staring into nowhere.

Junia gulped down a breath of panic, knowing his silence was turning into a sort of haunting depression. She wracked her brain for the right words to say. “But sometimes bad things have to happen before the good things.” Her tone was chirpy, yet inside she observed him soberly. “Like pain before life. Broken before completed. And only the finest gold can endure the hottest fire.”

Demetrius broke out of his reverie and gave her a grateful look filled with meaning, but said nothing.

They sat there in the fading twilight as the birds in the nearby trees began to hush for the night. Right at dusk, her father and Elder John came walking up from the vineyard, wearing smiles.

“We should begin to harvest the day after next.” Junius announced as he and Elder John stepped onto the patio. “Junia, we will have plenty of raisins for your cakes.”

“I can’t wait!” Junia smiled and glanced down at little Andronika who she found asleep with her little black eyelashes setting peacefully atop her chubby cheeks.

“Soon comes time to celebrate.” Junius said keenly. “First, to the homecoming of our two lambs who we have in this house today. Second, to harvest. Third, to Judith and Rufus’ wedding.”

“The time of weeping is over.” Elder John spoke with a twinkle to his wrinkly eyes. “Now comes the reaping of our good faith in Christ.”

“The time of sackcloth is over.” Junia felt her smile burst from her innermost being, her heart beating wonderfully light and glad. “Now comes the dancing for joy!”

“Amen, my Fil’os.” Elder John spoke fervently. “We dance for joy when we know that our labors of prayer have been answered. And when our reward is near.”

Junia glanced at Demetrius who was now looking quite happy as he gazed around with a content expression. Even little Andronika smiled—in her sleep. Everything now was indeed wonderful and beautiful…and so very joyful.

~

“It’s good to be back.” Demetrius added his own thanks, giving Junia’s arm a poke. “I just might hold that baby. After all, she is the baby of my best friend.”

Junia handed little Andronika to him. When he took the baby in his large arms, he looked down at that sweet little face…and silently thanked God for another sweet face that had grown and was sitting nearby. He thanked God for his friend who had made him want to live when nobody else had. His friend who could turn his stormy thoughts into sunshine.

That night Demetrius sank into his bed, thinking about all they had talked about that evening. I didn’t know a person could be so forgiving, he stared up into the darkness. Here I’ve been a Robber-Captain and a murderer—and she still cares about me! She doesn’t seem to care what I’ve been, so long as I’ve made things right with God. Talk about the finest gold... His thoughts trailed as he lay there, not moving a muscle or a brain molecule.

After a moment his thoughts resumed and a smile played on his lips as he thought how wonderful it was to be back home, in the fold of Christ. I’m glad I came back. I’m glad I’m God’s again. Then, he remembered Elder John’s prayer earlier. He was also glad what Elder John said about him—about what God thought. He was glad to be a trophy for His Name.

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother