A Torch in the Empire Series Book One: The Fire and the Trial

Chapter Two: Hiding Under the Flax

   At the sound of the banging on the door, Jesse became as still as one of the statues the Romans were so fond of. A glance at his family told him they, too, were frozen in their tracks. The pounding continued. Father and Mama looked at each other; then Father looked at Jesse.
   "Take Abigail and hide on the roof," he said.
   Jesse hesitated. "I don't want—" he began, but Mama cut him off.
   "Obey your father, Jesse," she said, and then turning to Father, she told him, "I'm staying with you." Father gave her a loving look and reached for her hand.
   Taking Abigail's arm, Jesse led her over to the back door. With one final glance back, they noiselessly slipped out. Outside, the night air was cool and refreshing. Summer days in Jerusalem were warm, but the nights could be cool.
   Abigail climbed the ladder up to the roof, and Jesse followed. Like most houses in Jerusalem, their home had a flat roof. To make the roof, wooden beams had first been put in place. Then saplings and branches were spread across. Lastly, a plaster made of clay, sand, and water was spread over which hardened into a smooth, sturdy roof.
   In the light from the full moon, Jesse could see the bundles of flax on the roof. They had just been harvested a few weeks before during the spring harvest. There were a good many bundles that Mama and Abigail would spin into yarn using a spindle and distaff and then weave into linen fabric on the loom. The linen would then be used to make clothing for the family and garments to sell.
   "Let's hide behind the flax," Jesse whispered. Abigail moved some bundles and quietly sat down, her back against the stone parapet, or low protective wall, which went around the perimeter of the roof. When Jesse and Abigail sat down, the bundles were taller than them.      Jesse waited to move the bundles back in place in front of them. He knew if someone came up there, they would be seen, but he did not want to completely cover himself with itchy flax bundles until absolutely necessary.
   Up there on the roof, the only sound was that of their breathing, but below them, Jesse heard the door open and the noise of people coming into the house.
   Jesse heard his father's voice greeting the men and asking how he could help them, but Father's voice was drowned out by the other voices. Roman voices, Jesse felt certain. They spoke Greek, the common language in the Empire. Romans spoke Latin, and Jews spoke Aramaic, but Greek was the language common to nearly all.
   "Are you part of the sect they call Christians?" Jesse heard a man ask. And Jesse knew what his father would say.
   "Yes," Father said, "We are followers of Christ."
   Then several men began talking at once and Jesse could not catch much of what they were saying. But he did understand the voice of the man who appeared to be the leader when he said, "Search the house."
   Jesse lay down, grabbing Abigail's arm and pulling her down with him. With his other arm, he pulled flax bundles over them, covering them more fully. Jesse could hear the soldiers knocking down furniture, banging on walls, and walking around with very loud footsteps. How dare they! He fumed inside. He wanted nothing more than to go down there and stop those soldiers. But he knew there was nothing he could do. He wondered what was happening to his parents.
   Then Jesse heard the back door open. When he and Abigail had slipped out the back door, they had done so quietly, barely making a sound. Not this soldier. Jesse wondered why the Romans did everything so loudly. But it was good for Jesse because he knew from the noise where the soldier was. He was almost to the ladder. He was coming up the ladder. He was on the roof.
To Jesse's ears, Abigail's breathing and his own and the pounding of their hearts were very loud as they lay there concealed by the bundles of flax. But the soldier seemed not to hear it.
   Jesse could not see the soldier, but he could certainly hear him as he walked about the roof. Jesse slept up on the roof, and from the noises, he decided the soldier must have picked up his bedroll and thrown it. Now the soldier was coming toward them. He kicked at the bundles of flax, narrowly missing Jesse. Then Jesse heard him walk away and climb down the ladder.
His heart still pounding wildly, Jesse lay still. The noises of the soldiers below them grew gradually lesser. It sounded like they were leaving.
   Time passed. No noise came from below them. The soldiers were surely gone now, but still, Jesse and Abigail did not move.
   Finally, Abigail whispered, "Jesse, you're hurting my arm."
   "Oh. Sorry." Jesse had not realized he still gripped her arm. He let go, grasping now just how frightened he had been. He hated himself for it. He did not like to think that he had been afraid of Roman soldiers. But he had been.
   For a few more moments, Jesse lay there, listening. All was quiet. There was not a sound of footsteps or the rumble of a cart. Not the clip-clop of horses' hooves or the braying of a donkey. It was completely silent.
   Jesse slowly raised himself up and looked out over the roof. Abigail sat up next to him.
   "I'm going to look around," he said, still speaking quietly, "I'll come back for you if it's safe." He stood up. He walked over to the other side of the roof and picked up his bedroll that the soldier had thrown. He smoothed it out. He knew he had left a cloak lying there on his bed, too. But where was it?
   Jesse walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down over the parapet. There was his cloak, lying on the ground below him. And there was a man, a beggar, probably, walking toward the cloak. Jerusalem had plenty of beggars. Jesse wanted to yell at the man to leave his cloak alone but decided against it. He didn't want to call the soldiers back. The beggar picked up Jesse's cloak, put it on, and walked away. Jesse clenched his fists. Now he'd lost his cloak, too, along with whatever else the soldiers had taken.
   He walked over to the ladder. Without making a sound, he climbed down. The back door had been left open. Jesse went inside.
   Anger welled up inside him at what he saw. Mama's loom was knocked over. What had once been a neat stack of woven blankets was now spread haphazardly about the room. The little table on which Father's scrolls were kept was knocked over, the scrolls were thrown on the floor, some of them torn. A sack of grain had been poured out. The goat was still in her spot, bleating pitifully, but the entire room was a mess.
   Worst of all, his father and mother were nowhere to be seen. The soldiers had arrested them. There could be little doubt about that. But what would happen to them? He thought of what Uncle Aaron had said about what they were doing to Christians in Rome. Dread filled him at the thought. No! Not Father! Not Mama! Those things—those horrible things—could not happen to his parents. His mind whirled. What should I do? What can I do? For a moment, he stood there, feeling helpless.
   Then Jesse knew what he needed to do. Uncle Aaron, he thought, Surely my uncle will be able to help.
   Jesse went back up on the roof. "Abigail," he said. Abigail stood up, brushing bits of flax off her long tunic. Jesse looked down at his own clothes. He hadn't thought of brushing them off and, sure enough, bits of flax clung to his tunic. He brushed some of them off, then quit. He didn't have time for that. "I'm going to Uncle Aaron," he said, "Stay here, and if anyone comes, hide under the flax again."
   Abigail nodded, and Jesse slipped down the ladder and into the night.
   Jesse ran through the streets of Jerusalem until he came to his uncle's house. He pounded on the door. When no one opened it, he pounded on it some more. Finally, the door creaked open.
Uncle Aaron looked at Jesse, and relief filled his face. "Jesse, my boy! We feared you were a soldier. What's wrong?"
"Soldiers," Jesse gasped, out of breath from his run, "They've taken my parents."
"Oh, no," Uncle Aaron said. He motioned for Jesse to come inside. "Now tell me what happened. I'm sure we'll figure something out."
   Jesse came inside and blurted out the whole story. Uncle Aaron and Aunt Moriah listened intently. When Jesse had finished, Uncle Aaron placed a hand on his shoulder, "Your parents would want you to go back home to your sister now. We'll come for you in the morning and go see what we can do for your parents."
   "I'd like to do something now," Jesse said. He hated not being able to do anything. He felt he simply must do something.
   "I know, Jesse," Uncle Aaron said, "but it's late. They won't kill your parents tonight. Best to rest and pray and then go in the morning."
   Feeling more hopeless than he could remember ever feeling before, Jesse set out for home.