Chapter 6
The Leper Messiah ~ continued from Chapter 6 | I Am David
That night as the desert sand swept around him, Arlemay recalled his times in the west at Greythorn:
He discovered a mountain cave that was not inhabited and his shelter quickly became a living diary as the boy wrestled with his hopes and fears.
“How many days since home?”
He wrote down the numbers
.
“Alone,” he wrote. “Tired and hungry.”
He spread his work over the cave walls. Each word was a badge of courage scrawled in nervous energy and slanted forward in grim determination.
“But I am still here,” he thought. “Still tired and hungry.”
He drew strength from the words and felt emboldened by the cool air that swept in and around him.
He stood with a lit torch and walked further back into his den of loss until it was fully illuminated, a sea of words that rolled up and down the stone wall.
“Bathe in the stream and comb hair. The mother may be in the forest,” he recited.
“Protect women so they don’t die; protect the young!”
“Why did she die?”
“Who am I?”
“Father, Father, kill, become King, kill, Father, Father!”
“Brothers, where are you, brothers?”
“They will come back for you.”
“Why?”
“Mother, protect me, what should I do?”
Pride rose in his throat at some words and laughter at others as the boy passed by the rough words and drawings that made up his lonely world.
One day as Arlemay dipped his water bag into a cool mountain stream, a worn and haggard face surrounded by long, dirty hair and etched with sorrow appeared in the water . He shrank from the sight as a wild animal would from civilization.
He drank greedily, gathered his bow and arrows and fox pelts and left the mountain stream with the image burned into his mind.
The man-child dashed through the forest bed up the winding mountain trails and looked out over a stone ledge for the last time: the forest stood still, and far down below the treacherous coast was empty and the rough seas heaved. He heard the wind sweep through the trees while watching the great snowy owl take flight, swirling and swirling above.
Days later the young cave dweller continued his diary. Far back in his den, the sea of words rolled up and down the stone wall.
As he wrote each letter, they quivered in pools of water that were beyond his fathom. He touched each letter as they appeared before him. They stretched out into a timeline that he entered unknowingly. As the wind blew deep into the cave, the letters changed from what he wrote into shapes and symbols that Arlemay did not understand.
The 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet appeared shiny and brilliant before the stone writer.
Tav (A) seal of your ring, Shin (B) because your own name is Shaddai, Kuf (C) sign of the Truth, Tzadi (D) Righteousness, Ayin (E) redemption, Samech (F) support the fallen, Nun (G) Fearful in praise, Mem and Lamed (H) King, Kaf (I) Destruction, Yud (J) first letter of the holy name, Chet (K) Goodness, Zayin (L) War, Hein and Vav (M) name of God , Dalet and Gimel (N) The Benefactors, Bet (O) Blessing, Alef (P) Head of letter.
The letters on the cave wall began to dance. They hung in the air each with its individual energy and tonality. The cave was alive. The letters were children, children calling out to Arlemay.
“Me first, me first!”
Energy resounded off the walls in a sing-song lyrical chant.
The little lord of the forest giggled and approached the string of characters that hung above his head and swirled around him. He turned and laughed, spun around in pure joy then stopped as something caught his eye.
“NINE,” was scrawled on the cave wall.
He trembled like the leaves on the branches that protected his mountain world.
The stone writer heard heavy voices deep within his sanctuary. He crept inch by inch toward the noise while hugging the cave wall.
“Father is not coming with horses to find me,” he said in a calm voice. All childish ideas were buried as one youthful tear fell from his piercing blue eyes.
“I must join the cave letters.”
He removed the bone bracelets from each bicep and gently placed them on the earth. At the back of his cave, he uncovered a leather pouch that held a white tunic and a long hunting knife.
“I must join my friends on the wall.”
The knife was lovingly taken out of its sheath and placed on the soft dirt floor. He flexed hard muscles, beat his breasts and then yelled from the entrance of the cave.
“Oooooooh, Ouuuuugh!”
Animals scattered into the underbrush as the signal of change woke the sleepy mountain world.
With great reverence the lost boy put on the clean, rough tunic and brought the hunting knife to his throat. He slowly touched the blade to his skin, feeling its sharpness. He yelled again into the emptiness of his world. The blade felt sharp and close.
“No one is coming.” He pushed harder against his throat.
“I must join my friends.”
The Rose came to him then, rising high over the cold stone floor as he bent low.
“Do not shed your blood, for it is my blood.”
She bent over the young cave dweller.
“You shall go to the east and be my mouth and tongue. And my leper.”
Continue reading… Chapter 6 | The Tree of Life
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