Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 56

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 56

© 2021 by Amber Wright

IKARIA, NEAR PATMOS

Wedged between Tiria, Rhoda, Nicolas and her mother, Junia walked up the little gangplank to board the small boat that would take them to the ship. She closed her eyes and squeezed onto Tiria's arm ahead of her. You must not look down and all will be fine, Junia, she coaxed herself to calm her nerves. She settled onto the middle bench and exhaled with relief. That part was over.

“Wait until you climb the ladder to the ship,” Nicolas managed a teasing grin.

Junia laughed nervously. “Perhaps I need a crane.”

“It might break.”

Junia shot him a frown. Teasing or not, that did not sound very nice. Her face fell, I must not let it bother me. But she did not feel the least bit carefree today. Small wonder.

“Sorry,” Nicolas fell silent, staring down into the blue waters that was an arm's length away.

In no time, the small boat sat floating alongside the ship, one boatman holding the oars while the other one held the bottom of the rope ladder. The others had braved the ladder and only her mother was left to climb it. Now it was her turn. Gripping and focusing onto each rung, she climbed it without incident. At the top, she took one glance down—just to see how high she had really climbed. Dizziness sank into her and she swayed. She grabbed for the rope and a ripping pain paralyzed her. Breath frozen, she found Nicolas and Tiria grabbing onto her. They dragged her over the rail and onto the deck.

Slowly, Junia's breath returned and the pain lessened. I forgot—my hand! When she'd taken that one glance down, her left hand had gripped the rail so hard her wound nearly split open again. Swaying again, she cradled her hand and Tiria grabbed her around the waist, shouting a frown at her.

“I told you not to look down,” Tiria's voice was accusing but concerned. “You almost killed yourself there!”

“My hand,” Junia was as dizzy as the dead. Must she always be this weak and faint over mere pain?

“Let's get you into your bunk,” Tiria pushed their way through the crowd.

Junia's head bobbed up and down as she stumbled along with Tiria. Voices juggled through her ears. Words muffled, slurred. She collapsed into a cushiony lower bunk.

~

“I feel much better now,” Junia told her mother who dipped the rag into the bowl of water again, wiping her forehead.

“You must eat before you go on-deck.” Eunice picked up the plate of slices of fruit and flatbread with meaty sauce. “I'll feed you,” she giggled, “just like I did fifteen years ago.”

“You stopped feeding me when I was only two?” Junia paused in her bite of bread and sauce.

“You were quite independent, just like Paul.” Eunice's blue eyes twinkled. “But you turned out quite well, I must say. I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Junia took a sip of water. “You and Pah'tehr raised me. How could I not turn out well?” She made a silly face.

Eunice only smiled and patted her hand, then her face grew sober. “Honey, I just want you to know this. Wherever you may go, I will always love you and be proud of you.”

Junia blinked, startled. What was her mother saying? “Meh'tehr,” her voice sounded thick. “I love you—and thank you for always reminding me that true courage is to face our faults. That true riches lay within our hearts, our love, our joy, our God.” She paused, “That true peace comes from serving God every moment of every hour of every day.”

Eunice squeezed her hand. “Yes, my dear. You learn well.”

Junia simply nodded, not trusting her voice just then.

“That's why I'm so proud of you, daughter. Don't forget that, ever.”

Junia wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, her throat thick with emotions.

After a moment, Eunice released her and smiled briskly. “Now, get up and stretch your legs. Tiria and Judith are waiting for you.”

“And me!” Paul ran up to the bunk with his demanding little voice, and jumped once. “Come see the sea. It's beau-ti-ful!”

Junia stood, briskly wiped her eyes and grabbed Paul's hand as he dragged her outside to the beau-ti-ful sunset. The waters sparkled, rippled, blazed, whirred, crashed and whispered all at once. Her breath caught. God, You make all things well. You do all things well. We are scattered but our hearts beat as one. You are our heart, Jesus. Guide us to where we are supposed to be. She felt a tug on her arm.

“Junia,” Tiria loudly whispered, clearly excited. “Guess what I just overheard?”

“What?” Junia smiled. Wasn't Tiria always the one with the juicy gossip?

“Guess where we are going?”

“Ikaria, of course.” Junia frowned. Tiria made no sense. They had known that they were going to Ikaria when they had been in Smyrna for but an hour. A thought stuck her. “We're not drifting off course, are we?”

“Absolutely not!” Tiria bounced happily, then leaned in confidentially, “Ikaria is near Patmos!”

With that, Tiria swung Paul by his hands in a circle. Paul squealed and Junia stood there mute, thinking. One more blessing, thank You! They were going to Ikaria, near Patmos. They would be close to Demetrius, Elder John and Marcus. Perhaps they could even visit them as Matthias often did. Junia's heart tripped up a few beats.

The breaking of dawn had fully arrived, its chaos a mix of despair and hope. She had survived, despite the losses. She had conquered uncertainty, despite the mystery that lay before her. They had scattered like the seed thrown to the wind, those destined to survive would survive. Some would still die; some would be preserved to fulfill their purpose and live an old age. She would never know who really lived and who did not. It was not hers to know. Although they said the shepherd family was dead, her visions in the night gave her hope that they perhaps were still alive, raising their sheep. As for Andronika and the rest? And her future? God held them all in His hands. What did tomorrow hold?

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother