The Road to Cana by Anne Rice

Author:Anne Rice
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780307268747
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2008-01-07T10:00:00+00:00

15

IT WAS A RAIN SO DENSE and swift it brought the twilight with it, closing up the world in front of men's eyes. James and Esther picked up Avigail, off her feet, that I could see, and James slung her up high over his shoulder, the better to carry her, and all ran for the village or what shelter perhaps that they could find.

With my brothers, I took hold of Joseph, and we hoisted him to our shoulders and rushed down the hill.

We were soaked to the skin before we reached the street, and the street was a running river. Now we had the faintest lanterns to guide us through the shadows, the tramp of feet all around us, people uttering fearful cries now and bits of prayer.

But nothing could prevent us from gaining our courtyard, throwing open the doors of the house, and rushing one and all inside.

Joseph was set down gently and at once, his white hair plastered to his pink scalp. Lamp after lamp was lighted.

The women in a flock carried Avigail deep into the house, her sobs echoing off the walls, and up the stairs into the small rooms of the second floor which belonged to the women alone.

The men fell down exhausted on all sides.

Old Bruria and my mother came with dry robes for us, and together with Little Mary and Mara, who had been with them all the while, went to drying us off, taking our wet clothes, patting down our hair.

James lay back, out of breath, staring at the ceiling. I slumped against the wall.

Old Uncle Alphaeus came in, bewildered and amazed. Then Uncle Cleopas appeared from the outside, dripping and out of breath. The last of the children came in with him. It was he, along with Menachim, who bolted the door.

The rain slammed onto the tile roofs. It rushed in the gutters and down the pipes to the cisterns, and to the mikvah, and to the many jugs beneath the downspouts all round and about the house. It clattered against the wooden shutters. It crashed in gust after gust against the rattling doors.

No one spoke as we rubbed ourselves dry and put on the fresh robes given us. My mother tended to Joseph, gently peeling off the soaked garments. The children heaped up the coals, and went this way and that in their excitement, searching for even more lamps to be lighted in this dense and snug and safe place.

Suddenly there was a crashing fist against the door.

“If he dares,” said James, rising to his feet with his hand out. “If he dares come here, I'll kill him.”

“Hush, stop it,” cried his wife, Mara.

The knock came again, measured, insistent.

A voice came from beyond the paneled wood.

I went to the door and lifted the latch and opened it.

There stood Reuben in his fine linen robes as wet through and through as anyone, and his father, bent beneath a covering of soaked wool, and behind them their horses and their hired men.

James immediately welcomed them into the house.

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