Short Stories

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......After this,
he left Athens
and went to
Corinth.
And he found a Jew
named Aquila....
lately come from Italy
with his wife
Priscilla...
he stayed with them,
and they worked,
for by trade
they were
tentmakers.
[Acts 18:1-3]
*******************
(Aquila, Priscilla, and
their new friend in Christ,
Paul, are sitting under
the shade of a myrtle tree;
the sun has only been up
several hours, and
already the air is warm
with the promise of a
hot summer's day.
Priscilla is frying
some flat cakes on the fire;
Paul's mouth is watering
from the smell of the
sizzling dough, and his
stomach is growling. Until
very recently, he was only
used to his own rather
meager cooking, or to the
moldy, fly-bitten food
that was part of his
intermittent prison-life,
as a bond-slave of the
Lord.

Suddenly, Paul gives
a yelp, and curses out loud.)
_________________________________
(Aquila looks up: startled.
He is a quiet, methodical man,
and is still becoming accustomed
to his new friend's
rather strong personality.)
"What IS it,
my FRIEND?"

(Gruff voice.)
"THIS DAMN NEEDLE!"

(Priscilla glances up,
from her cooking.
Inwardly, she thanks the
Lord for giving her a very
quiet, patient husband like
Aquila. Their new friend
hadn't discussed much of
his past life, as yet, and
it was still a mystery to
them as to whether Paul
was married, or not.
Whomever the poor,
wretched woman had been,
Priscilla was already
feeling very sorry for her.
Priscilla shook her head
slightly; she looked about
for something, and
then tossed it over to
the middle-aged, scrowling man,
who was sitting beside her husband.)
"HERE! Take this CLOTH....
and, wrap it
around your finger."

"DAMN!"
(Paul was muttering,
and sucking on the edge
of his thumb at the same
time. Then, he shook his
hand, irritably.)
"THANK YOU!"
(Mutter.)

(Priscilla and Aquila gave
each other an amused glance.
Aquila deftly drew
out the long thread of thin
hide, through the other
side of the tent flap he
was making. He spoke
quietly: looking
back down again
on his handiwork.)
"Go and wash it, Paul.
You do not want to get the
blood on the material; it
is too costly to ruin."

(Gruff voice.)
"Yes! YES!
I had NO idea....these
WOODEN NEEDLES...
could be so damn SHARP!"
(Paul mutters loudly to
himself again, and tosses
the heavy material aside.
Grasping the ragged cloth
about his finger,
he tromps over to the water
bucket and using his good
hand, dips a small cup
into the bucket, and then
pours it over his sore hand.
The water, just fresh from the
deep well down the long
dusty road, was very cold.
It splashes over Paul's
warm sandaled toes and feet.
He mumbles.)
"What a clumsy SOT,
I am!"

"Are you ALRIGHT..
Paul? The CAKES are
almost ready!"
(Priscilla glanced up again
at her husband, who was
already finishing up the
last seam on the tent flap.
Expertly, he knotted the
thin bit of leather,
and using his small,
sharp knife,
deftly cut off the end.
Aquila's grandfather
had been an expert tent
maker, and had taught his
young grandson at a very
early age. As a young man,
Aquila had toiled at
other kinds of work
to earn a livelihood,
but he had never forgotten
the early lessons
of his childhood
days, at the feet of
his beloved
grandfather.)

(Gruff tone.)
"YES! YES!
I'M FINE!"
(Paul is sighing heavily,
and frowning down at his
clumsily-wrapped thumb.
Right now, he would wish
to be doing just about
ANYTHING....besides
picking up that wretched
sewing needle, again!
Paul sighs.
Suddenly, his stomach
gurgles loudly, once more.)
"Those CAKES smell...
GOOD!"
(By now, the air
is filled with
sizzling cakes,
freshly baked bread,
and cooked fish.)

"Go wash UP! And,
let's say PRAYERS!"
(Priscilla picks up the
dish of bread, and brings
it over to the blanket she
has spread on the ground.
The small house, where
they are staying, is only
spacious enough to store
all their tent-making materials;
all of their meals, they were eating
outside. The circle of
summer trees, however,
provides a comfortable
spot for sharing their food
and fellowship, together.)

(A few quiet moments
pass, while the three
prepare to eat, and then
pray together, thanking
the Lord for the food
and another day, in which
to serve Him. Then,
everyone begins to
eat.)

(Aquila is the first
to speak, again.)
"What did you DO,
Paul.....before THIS?"

(Paul stops munching on
a deliciously cooked piece
of fish; it had the
taste of freshly ground
herbs, and spices; next to
prison food, it was the
stuff of a king's banquet
table.)
"I was a...
...PHARISEE*."
(Paul shrugs nonchalantly,
and goes on eating. He dips
a thick piece of sweet bread
into a small dish of honey.)

Silence fills the air.

Aquila and Priscilla
glance sharply, at one
another.

(Priscilla spoke; her voice
was filled with surprise,
and a bit of admiration.)
"My! THAT was quite a
CHANGE....for you, WASN'T it?"

(Munching, Paul simply
nodded, and tore off
another piece of bread
to dip into the syrupy,
sweet honey. He hadn't
eaten food this good,
since....since WHEN?)
"Hm, hm."
(Shrug.)
"I GUESS....."
(Shrug.)

(The married couple
looked at one another,
again. This time, it was
Aquila who spoke up, a
little hesitantly.)
"You....you must have been
earning quite a LIVING!
And......
and, all the RESPECT!"

"YES......
Yes!"
(Paul mumbled through
a mouthful of doughy,
sweet bread and honey;
he waved impatiently at
the air as if he were
waving at a nat. Then he
nodded with further
impatience, and went on
eating, as if the conversation
were about something a bit
nonsensical.)

(Aquila and his wife,
again, gave each other a
long, curious look. Then
they both turned at the
same time, to stare at
their newfound companion.
What a STRANGE one,
he WAS: very strange...
INDEED!)
"But.....but, didn't you
spend most of your youth
TRAINING for such a
respected.. ENDEAVOR?
Why, that takes years, and YEARS..!
...And, such great DILIGENCE!
And, didn't your PEOPLE...
have great HOPES....?
Why, you must have been
the PRIDE of the whole...FAMILY!"

(Paul looked up with a
disinterested look on his
craggy face. He nodded,
absent-mindedly, and went
on chewing. What sort
of honey WAS THIS,
anyway?)
"Hm.......yes.
I guess."

(Priscilla leaned forward;
the air around the cooking
fire was crisp and sweet.
It smelled of burnt edges
of fresh fish,
and handrolled dough.
The coals in the fire
were now cooling:
tiny popping sparks
were still evident:
like the spark of life, in
a sad and dying heart.
Priscilla glanced at her
husband, before speaking
very softly and gently.)
"Then....what HAPPENED?"
(She whispered, again.)
"What HAPPENED?"

(Paul could still taste
the honey in his mouth.
Sitting under the
cool myrtle tree,
with these new friends,
he felt quite peaceful
and happy: even with the
stinging on his bandaged thumb.
He suddenly laughed out loud.)
"I was going down the
road, one day: going about
my BUSINESS......!"

(Both husband and wife
chimed in, at the same time.)
"YES?"

(Paul stopped laughing.
He looked off into the
distance: beyond their
small habitation was a
lovely field of summer
flowers; their light green
stems were waving
delicately in the
gentle morning breeze.
Paul's eyes suddenly filled with
tears; he looked down at
the honey dripping down
the torn-off piece of
bread, in his newly-calloused fingers.
Nothing in his early years
of studying the Torah,
had prepared him for the
humble art of tentmaking!
He smiled.)
"When......I suddenly
fell to my knees...."
(Paul looked up at his
companions; his usually
gruff voice was full of
wonder, like that of
a small child's. It cracked,
slightly audibly,
under the weight of hot tears,
and a thumping heart.)
"And...
fell...
in
love."
*************************
Now
as he journeyed
he approached Damascus,
and suddenly a light
from heaven
flashed about him.
And he fell
to the ground and
heard a voice saying
to him,
'Saul, Saul, why do you
presecute Me?'
And he said,
'Who are you...?'
And He said,
'I am Jesus...'
[Acts 9:3-5]

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*Rabbi: in the days of
Jesus, such highly educated
and devout men were seen
as a class above everyone,
and politically very powerful.
By today's standards,
such an achievement
would be equivalent to attaining
a double-doctorate in
religion/religious law
and philosophy,
and then getting elected
into politics.

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