Fiction

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Shepard’s Rod
By Lance K. Wilson, Sr.
Introduction

Up on a small knoll, near the western valley, is a lone tree which grew there from the time Abraham ventured into the wilderness. It’s branches stretched out like long fingers and waved gently toward the east. The trunk is thick and gnarled while the leaves are lush and green.

A young boy squats under its shade and watches his charges below; a medium sized herd of sheep. They graze with abandon between the tall grass and clover while a dog wanders aimlessly about sniffing the remnants of some past travelers. The boy, a dark haired red faced lad with intense green eyes, never removes his gaze. He has learned from his father to always be alert when the sheep graze because they never look up. “They are single-minded dullards,” his father was saying “that only know what’s in front of them rather than what is around them.”

The boy cradled his staff on his knees and began to gently rock back and forth. His mind is still reeling from the events of the last few months. He can still hear the Prophets voice and taste the oil that was poured over his head as the old man pronounced to the hills that he was now king of all Israel. Yet his ‘kingdom’ consisted of this valley and his subjects were the placid sheep that stuffed themselves below.

He smiled slightly at this last thought.

From the time he was old enough to reason he knew God had favored him. Still, being the youngest out of seven brothers kept him humble. His brothers constantly pulled rank on him and had him take the jobs that they would not want to do themselves. Watching their father’s flock was one such job. His brothers looked at sheep herding as being too time consuming.
They were ‘Merchants’! They enjoyed the time in the market place, haggling over price or purchasing some new product from the east. Watching animals eat all day and standing around in the hot sun gave them little joy.

Still the youngster took to the job with zeal. He would bring his instrument from time to time and gently play to the Lord. His soft tenor would lull the sheep and they would wander toward the sound of his voice, settling in around him, nuzzling his legs while he sang. Even though these animals were slow witted he loved them and would do whatever was needed to keep them safe. There was peace in caring for them that his brothers would never understand. It was hard, even for him, to put into words the peace that he felt just watching them move slowly, deliberately, across the clover. A small sea of white against a green background soothed his wandering mind.
Only a ‘Living, Loving God’ could have devised such a creature.
He sighed deeply and started to murmur a soft prayer of praise, when the dog began to bark!

He was to his feet at the second bark and stood ridged as stone clutching the staff tighter in his hand, narrowing his eyes toward the horizon. The barking became more urgent as the young boy gazed more intently at the area surrounding the flock. The afternoon sun was behind him now he could feel its warmth on his back as his stomach tightened.

There!

About one hundred yards to the left of the flock he saw a glimmer of tan . . . a mountain lion crouched low to the ground nearly invisible in the tall grass. It inched deliberately toward the herd ignoring the dog’s warnings. It’s tail, giving away its excitement, flicking this way and that. The boy moved with equally deliberate speed cutting the distance between himself and the herd in a matter of seconds. He chided himself for leaving his sling at home. It was a distance weapon and he could have wounded the animal from the knoll. As he got closer to the beast, it stopped its forward progress and now turned its attention to the young morsel that stood only a few yards in front of it.

David could see the saliva dripping from the beast’s mouth. He could smell the muskiness of it’s fur. The warrior spirit within him rose up and whatever fear he had fell to the grass around him!

The lion crouched even further and its back haunches twitched from side to side as it raised its tail and lunged toward this fresher meat.

David stood rocklike holding the rod in both hands and distributing his weight so that he would not lose his balance when he struck the beast. He would have one shot and he knew that he had to strike true or the animal would get up more angry and more determined than it was now.

Only thirty feet from its prey, it’s speed was incredible, the lion leapt into the air with its claws bared, ready for the kill. David raised the rod and put all of his weight on his right foot as he swung it toward the airborne feline. The thick top of the rod caught the animal in the temple crushing its skull.

It hit the ground with a thud and slide harmlessly to his left it’s body limp.

The beast was dead before it fell to the ground.

Behind him he heard the bleating of the sheep as they finally realized that there was danger and began to trot away from the carcass.

The warrior within now stood and strode toward the vanquished enemy. He reached down and pulled the lion’s head up by it’s beard. He was breathing hard as he stared into the lifeless face of the animal. Gently he released the animal and closed his eyes thanking God for this victory.

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