Mountain of Full Moons by Irene Kessler

Author:Irene Kessler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2020-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

Sleep remains elusive. It is not long before my curtain is rustling. My eyes open. I am so frightened I cannot move and turn hot, then cold. My body shakes. Not Resheph, please. Not again.

“Can we talk,” Nikkal whispers.

I sit up with dread. If I say no . . . “Come in.” Will she say something to the family? That is my fear. She sits across from me at the far end of the mat.

“I may be younger, but your expression says you met with harm.”

I clear my head. “I do not know what you think you see. I am fine.”

“You are not fine. How was your class?”

“It was fine.”

“Before you said it was difficult.” She pauses. “I cannot make conversation alone.” I do not answer. “Did you ever go to the Canaanite Temple?”

“Of course not.”

“You could not go inside. Except for the sacred prostitutes, women are allowed once in thirteen full moons. They go to pay homage to Baal, one of the fertility gods.”

“Sacred prostitutes? Gods for fertility?” Why is she saying this now?

“Some men think it is their obligation to deflower women, so they will not become sacred prostitutes. That prostitution should not happen in a Temple.”

Deflower. She knows. “Do all Canaanites believe so?”

“No. It is a way for a few men to have a woman they would otherwise not be able to.”

In the emptiness that follows, I change the discussion. “Your religion has many gods, is it better with many?”

“We think so. Baal is the god of thunder and lightning; Ath-tart of passion, sexuality, and creativity; and there is El, who created all the gods and goddesses. There are many more.”

“Do you know of Eshmun?”

“He is a god of healing and the guardian of Sidon. A serpent coils around the staff in his right hand.”

I nod. “Your gods are part of a group. They each have separate duties. If they were put together they could make up one complete God.”

Nikkal raises her head. “I must admit I never pictured it as pieces of a whole. You do know Abram’s father made and sold idols.”

“No, I did not.”

“Get a pleasant night’s sleep.”

“It is difficult, but I will try.”

Nikkal gets up and walks to the curtain, her eyes red. She turns her back to me. “He is my brother.” The words hold the essence of sorrow. She hesitates as if to express one more concern, then disappears to the main room.

We cannot speak of it, but at least someone is aware. I pull the sleep cover over my head. There is a rumble of upset in my stomach and my head is pounding. My eyes close and a giant animal with Resheph’s face is before me. A beast, not a person. The swine who reduced my life to rubble.

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