chapter one for beginners to the site, more to follow

Chapter 1 – Abba-Leh

“We begin much when we end much.”
--Scibonius Largus

Alexenah sat on the cold stone prison floor, her father's head in her lap. He lay motionless. His arms and legs were wrapped in bandages as though he was prepared for the grave. She cringed at the smell of pus and blood that seeped through the muslin cloth. His wrinkled gray tunic—threadbare and simple as the small room they were in—rose slightly with each labored breath.
On the other side of the locked door, she heard the clink-clank of hobnailed sandals as the Roman Guards paced back and forth.
“What will happen to me when you die, Abba?" she whispered, "Where will I go?"
She brushed back her long hair that had fallen across his face and noted that the color was the same as her father's—black as a raven. His eyes, were they open, were the same light brown. His lips were full, and curved up ever so slightly at the edges. She recalled how people would say to her, "You are definitely your father's child."
She took his hand gently and enfolded it with her own. His stiff and unbending fingers felt cold. She whispered his name, “Tobiah.”
She lightly stroked the thin dry flesh that was once supple and caring and talked to him. She didn’t even know if he could hear her.
“You are not even forty winters old, Abba. You are kind. Gentle. Loving. You raised me after mother died bringing me into the world. You are a clothier in Rome. Why, you have even sold linen to Emperor Tiberius himself.” She looked around the room. “How has it come to this? You have never harmed anyone or taken anything from any man! Quite the contrary, you are a giver—not a taker. Is it because we are Hebrew? How does that demand beatings and prison?” She paused, “It was only a cart accident.”
“Abba-Leh,” Tobiah said.
His sudden voice—a raspy, strained whisper—startled her.
“Abba-Leh," he repeated, "When you were very small, you called me ‘Abba-Leh’." He opened his eyes. "Am I no longer Papa? Am I now just Father?”
Then, slowly, with much effort, Tobiah slid his hand from hers and pulled out a small leather pouch from inside his tattered tunic. Pulling harder, he snapped the worn leather cord from around his neck. He grasped the pouch close to his chest and said, as if to himself, “My Bundle of Life.”
Alexenah’s curiosity grew when Tobiah undid the leather tie-strap with his quivering hands. She leaned closer to see.
With difficulty, he reached in the pouch and carefully took out a linen handkerchief, stained and soiled with age. It appeared to contain something inside its folds. He offered it to his young daughter.
Alexenah looked back to the cell door. Did they know he possessed this hidden treasure? She heard the guards arguing. Their attention remained elsewhere.
She took the small bundle from his shaking fingers. Delicately, she pulled back the layers of linen to reveal what was so precious to her father.
“It is but a rock, Abba. A pebble.”
“Do you not recognize it, my child?”
She turned it over in her hand, held it up between her finger and thumb trying to see it in the dim light.
“It looks like every other pebble you find along the road.”
“You were only a child when you brought it to me. Remember? You said, ‘Look, Abba-Leh, it's a jewel! You called me Abba-Leh. . .’”
“My pretty jewel!" Alexenah remembered. "But now, it is nothing more than a stone." She closed the linen over the stone and offered it back to him.
“Reminds me of you,” he said, gently covering her small hands with his. "It is truly a jewel." He closed her fingers over the parcel and pushed her hand back. “I want you to have it now.”
Alexenah paused, and then nodded. She carefully wrapped the stone again in the cloth and placed it back in the leather pouch. “As you have kept it in memento of me, I will keep it always to remind me of you, my father.” Then squeezing it tightly in her palm, she wrapped the broken leather neck-strap around her knuckles to bind it in her hand.
“I am of little importance, my child. Let it remind you of your heavenly Father.”
“My heavenly father?"
He paused between each few words now to catch his breath. “Yes, my dearest. Our Father in heaven placed you in His treasure pouch on the day you were born. You see, my child, you are most precious to Him. He keeps you close to His heart.”
She felt a knot in her throat. She drew her hand to her chest and felt her heartbeat against the stone. Tears welled up and overflowed as she lowered her head.
Tobiah tried to speak again. He cleared his throat weakly, "What is it you desire, my little one?"
"Desire?"
"In your life . . . what do you want more than anything?"
She thought a moment and to herself she said, "That you would not die," but out loud, she said something else, "I have always wanted to grow up and be like you."
"And have beautiful children?" His lips turned in a fragile smile.
He was correct, she thought. She was now of betrothing age and desired children in her deepest soul.
"Yes, Abba. I will have beautiful children."
"Children are a gift." He struggled to continue, he moved his mouth as if to find moisture, then coughed uncontrollably, holding his chest.
She looked for a jug, a cup for water. She thought to call out to the guards for refreshment, but, changed her mind. They would not give him anything. She... had nothing to give him. Her fist beat against her thigh.
"You can't leave me now. Not now. I want to give you a grandchild. You have to live to put the babe on your lap."
"A child?" He paused, then with emphasis, said, "Grandchildren. Yes, a double blessing." He chuckled. Coughed.
She placed her finger to his lips, “You shouldn’t talk any more, it only causes you pain.”
“There are things worse.”
“Worse than pain?”
“Not feeling pain,” Tobiah sighed, his voice growing even more weak and trembling. He looked up at her and smiled. “I wish not to escape this. I am dying. I believe more in redemption than I do in recovery. And release from heartache and pain is not always necessary to see God’s hand.”
Then quietness. A long silence interrupted only by the muffled conversation of the guards outside.
Finally, he spoke her name again. Alexenah lowered her ear to his lips.
“When I die they will take you. Sell you. Perhaps worse,” Tobiah whispered. She could barely hear his words. They were a warning.
“Should I fight them, Abba, or should I run? I will stand up to them. I am not afraid. I will resist them," then quieter, "I do not wish to be a slave.”
“Your wishes. . . will not matter. They are even now waiting outside the door . . . to take you.”
Alexenah glanced to the door. She wiped her cheeks. Bit her lip.
“There is someone greater,” he said, reaching for her face. Then, louder as he grabbed her arm, “Jehovah will redeem you. He will redeem us all.” Then he was caught up in another paroxysmal of coughing.
Alexenah wiped the blood and sputum from his chin with the hem of her dress.
“I know the promise of the coming Messiah,” she said.
He appeared to sleep. His breathing shallow, but slow and calm.
She counted the hob-nailed footsteps of the guards. The hallway was twenty-three steps long.
"Alexenah?"
She had just closed her eyes to rest when he woke and spoke to her again.
"Yes, Abba, I am here." She still held him in her lap.
" Remember Chesed, my dear Alexenah?” he whispered.
"God’s loving kindness?”
“Chesed is God’s sure love. God is good. He is kind. Do not forget this.”
"I will not forget Abba, Father. I will remember all you have taught me."
She wiped the cold sweat that covered his forehead, nodded and swallowed. She watched as he struggled for air. Each painful breath sounded like a child's rattle. It was everything she could do to not let the scream in her belly escape.
Tobiah rose up on one elbow and strained to sit up.
Alexenah held him so that he could gain breath.
Again, Tobiah took a shallow breath. He leaned his head to the side and spoke again. “Earlier you asked where you will go….Go with Him… in His loving kindness.”
She nodded.
“He will never leave you…. never let His people go ... from…his embrace.” He squeezed her hand. Slumped back down. Winced.
At that moment it seemed as if time halted. She held her breath.
He sank deeper into her embrace.
Then, his voice but a murmuring whisper, he said “When the best is torn from your life, He still holds you in the fold of His arms.” He stared up to her face. He sucked in another frail measure of air. "Oh, how I love you, my little jewel.”
She kissed his forehead, “I love you too." She paused, a tear trailed down her cheek. She ran her hand through his dark hair. "I love you too.... Abba-Leh.”
Silence filled the room. No sound came from the hall. She couldn't hear her own heart beating. His eyes opened. His pupils widened. His cheeks paled. He tensed. And slowly she felt his muscles relax.
Alexenah pulled him in and clutched him close. Putting her hand to cradle his cheek, she drew his face to hers and sobbed. "No. No. Come back to me, Abba-Leh! Abba-Leh! Come back. I will give you a grandchild. Grand children. Oh, they will make you happy."
Pain, grief and sudden despair enveloped Alexenah in their dark shroud. She rocked him back and forth as she wept until her heart could contain the weight no longer. A scream erupted from the depths of her soul as she wailed to the ceiling above.
The door opened.