Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 6

 

Sacred Scrolls; Chapter 6

© 2021 by Amber Wright

DEMETRIUS AENOS

The simple meal was prepared. Wheat cakes, sliced baked fish, salted cucumbers, fresh grapes from their vines in the back garden, and a jug of milk completed their dinner. The food was gone in no time yet everyone remained at the table, talking. Junia suddenly remembered the honey cake baking in the oven, and she excused herself.

A sweet smell wafted into her nose as she stepped into the courtyard where the oven dominated the outside wall, by the door to the kitchen. Above the oven, the villa’s clay tile roof extended to make an overhang and a latticed roof covered the rest of the porch which was intertwined with beautiful orange flowers.

Junia tested the cake with a piece of straw. It was still undone so she sat on a reed-woven chair until the cake would be through baking. Feeling fidgety, she found her eyes darting to and fro. Their newly harvested vineyard looked a little bald, having no grapes. The sky appeared more blue than usual. Or had her eyesight sharpened within the hour? She swatted away the last bee of the season…unless there was a fellow bee lurking nearby. The yellowy tan courtyard walls needed a wash already. Her rippling thoughts blurred.

“We’ve planted more vines since you were last with us, Elder John,” her father’s voice drifted out of the house and into the courtyard.

Footsteps followed.

The straw in her hand stopped, heart pounding up into her ears. Suppose the young man called Demetrius was with them? She soon saw his dark head emerge into sight…and felt her heartbeat triple, constrict. Compose yourself, Junia. You’ll only get hurt like before. You always do. Remember? So, Junia bravely set aside petty emotions and smiled at them when they came into view. The men walked into the vineyard, her father leading the way.

Junia stood. That honey cake should be done by now.

~

A chill swept over Demetrius—and not one made by the cool autumn wind. During the service, he wondered. Now he knew. This Deacon Demas was the same man he had been looking for. But now that he had found him, could he really carry out the plan that had been assigned to him? The man called John spoke of love…forgiveness…and believing in Jesus, the One Who died so he could have life.

And then there was Junia, the deacon’s daughter—the first person he could call a friend in this city. She had stared at him all throughout the meal. Are men so unattractive in this part of the country? He felt the corners of his mouth turn up. Quickly, he quenched his would-have-been silly grin.

A minute passed, and he felt the sun pouring down onto his head so he turned back towards the villa.

~

A footstep on the brick porch sent Junia’s eyelids popping open, and caused her to sit up straight from her relaxed position on her chair. She had taken the honey cake out. Now it lay cooling on the table beside her.

She glanced over. There he was. What should she say to him? Demetrius took halting steps towards her, looking as if he could not make up his mind as what to do. She watched him bend his tanned arm to scratch the crown of his dark hair. He cleared his throat. Still, he did not speak.

Junia frowned, despite her inner fear of his harshness. He did, after all, have a sweet side to him as well. But she, being a woman, could not start the conversation—not to a stranger. It was not done in Lydia. She waited. His large liquid eyes finally did look down at her; then, his gaze locked. His mouth moved to say something; nothing came.

When he finally spoke, his sentences jumbled together. “Smells really good. What is it? May I sit down?”

Junia snapped out of her frozen moment and nodded towards the nearby reed-woven chair. “Thank you. It’s a honey cake.”

~

Demetrius sat on the reed-woven chair and settled his long legs before him. Then he looked up at the lattice roof where wilting yet colorful orange flowering vines intertwined. Past the lattice and above the courtyard wall, he could see the beautiful Lydian mountains. Finally, he spoke again. “It’s nice and peaceful here.”

“Yes.”

“Away from the hum and drive of the other part of the city.”

“It is.”

Will that girl say something else? She’s making me nervous—staring and being silent like that. He cleared his throat loudly, hoping it did not sound rude. “Your name is Junia, right?”

“Yes, I am named after my father.” She glanced away.

“But I met your brother today.” Demetrius felt his brows knit together in confusion. “He is your father’s son, right?”

Junia blinked back at him, looking shocked. “Of course, he’s my father’s son. Only, he wanted to name his second son after him—a tradition in his family.”

“Oh.” The silent pause made him feel uncomfortable so he went on lightly, “So you arrived—and then your father decided that you would take his name, son or not.”

“Right.” Junia made a wry grin. “But I think they thought I was going to be a boy. Then I surprised them by being me.”

“A nice surprise then.”

“I doubt you’ll be saying that once you’ve been around me for over ten minutes.”

“Don’t make me regret my words then, my Fil’os!” Then he laughed, something he had not done in a long time.

~

Junius Gaius looked through the drying grapevines at his daughter who was his namesake. Seeing Demetrius sitting beside her made him bristle inside. His daughter was young—his very last child. He frowned, and then felt Elder John’s eyes upon him.

“Demetrius is talking to my child.” He explained briefly, and saw Elder John’s smile. “What I mean, she is my last daughter—my namesake and baby. I can’t let her go just yet.”

“Junia is leaving her childhood, my Fil’os. She speaks and looks older than I last saw her.”

Junius nodded. Within the past three months, his very last child had grown into an adult. He sighed. The thought made him feel much older than his fifty-odd years. “I only hope this Demetrius does not notice—or has any fancy notions.” He added in a confiding whisper, “Demetrius is new to the Faith. How can we trust him? He may only act like he is interested in the teachings of Jesus—when he has other motives.”

“Do not worry, Gaius.” Elder John said in a reassuring way. “Demetrius is a good young man. My instinct tells me. Trust me.”

“Do you know anything about this young man? Where he came from? Perhaps I’m closely related to him.”

Elder John chuckled. “And that would take care of the problem, eh?”

“It would.” Junius blew out his breath.

“Do not mistrust Demetrius.”

Junius looked up, startled.

“He needs our trust for him to grow.” Elder John told him quietly. “Never does a man grow as when he knows he is trusted.”

“Forgive my doubts, Elder John.”

“Quite alright. As for Junia—she has a conscience to do what is right. You have taught her well.”

“Thank you.” Junius finally broke into a smile. “And now, let us eat the honey cake she has prepared.”

“You have not finished showing me your vineyard, my Fil’os.” Elder John smiled, spreading his robed arms apart. “I must grow my own vineyard in Ephesus.”

“Until you do, feel free to enjoy mine.”

~

After ten minutes, Demetrius found himself listening…and listening. He was on the verge of asking himself what he had gotten himself into. This daughter of Deacon Junius could certainly talk. Any other day he would have liked to say more than his piece, but today…it was a good time to think. And thinking was something he needed to do.

He needed to think things over, get the facts connected and make sure this Demas was the right one. He had to get everything straight before he proceeded. But now that he had heard the old man’s words, could he proceed? Love one another, John had said. How could he love when he had stopped loving at the age of nine? When he was nine, his mother had found out that his father had married and had a son. And when he was nine, his mother had died…leaving him all alone in this world.

He found Junia looking at him, silent. So he relaxed his frown and hoped she did not think he was upset with her.

A question that had haunted him for fourteen years suddenly shaped itself into words. “Have you ever loved someone who has been taken from you—who you needed—who didn’t deserve to die?”

A Few Greek Words:

Fil'os: friend

Meh'tehr: mother

Pah'tehr: father

Adher'fi: sister

Adher'fos: brother