Foretold

Chapter 4

Alex sat in the small enclosure, miserable. If this was what passed for hospitality in this place, he would hate to see what inhospitable behavior looked like.

The tiny adobe pen did not have a roof, but there was no way to get out without being able to untie the heavy vine ropes restricting the door’s ability to open. The walls were too high and slick to be scaled, and so he sat in the corner, irritated. If he’d had his rope, he might have escaped, but the women had searched him carefully and taken his whole entire backpack.

The rain had begun to pound down around three minutes after he had been thrown into the enclosure and by now, he was sopping wet, which only added to his misery.

“Hey! Anyone? Let me out!” He pleaded, banging futilely on the door. It’s no use! I can’t get out, and I’m going to be killed. I didn’t do anything. Please, Lord! Get me out of this. He silently prayed, desperate for help. He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he was coming to believe that maybe he should have put more into his walk with his Savior. Then he might have had more consolation in this strange place.

He slid down into the mud when no one answered, rocking back and forth. He considered, for the fifth time since his enclosure here, trying to scale the walls. He even went so far as to try, but the adobe walls had been smoothed into a slick surface that was impossible to scale in good weather without a rope and nigh impossible in the rain.

He sank down, wiping rain from his face. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help letting a few tears trickle down his cheeks. This situation was horrific. At first, it might have been manageable. Alex had even believed he could handle it. But it was out of hand now, and he knew with a sinking feeling there was no way out if his captors didn’t give it to him. He wasn’t even sure if God could get him out of it. His prayers weren’t being answered with any sort of help or relief. Could God even hear him on another planet or wherever this terrible place was? Or could God only hear him when he was on Earth? “Well, it’s not as if I can do anything if He can’t. I’ll just have to trust that there’s a way out of this and that God will show me the way when it’s time. If He can.” Alex muttered, chucking a rock from the mud at the wall. It didn’t even dent the hard adobe and it splashed back into the puddles of water, spraying him with more mud and water. “Lovely.” He griped.

Determined to rest some, he walked over to a patch of sodden grass and laid down, trying to ignore the sponginess of his resting place. Eventually, he managed to fall asleep despite the pounding rain and his discomfort.

***

The next morning, sore and exhausted from a restless, uncomfortable night, Alex sat up in his prison. The door was sliding open.

The young woman from yesterday, Vasiliki if he recalled correctly, walked in. She smiled at him. “I̱ mi̱téra léei óti prépei na sas didáxei ti̱ gló̱ssa mas kai na sas voi̱thí̱sei na vreíte ton trópo na kathorísei to drómo éxo̱.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

She frowned. “Milás asteía , xénos.”

He shrugged. “I do not know what you are saying.” He repeated, speaking slowly.