Mika's Song, Chapter 20
Dear Readers, I had great ambitions of continuing/finishing this story this Christmas, but when I tried to get back into it, I found myself faced with incredible writer's block and fear of failure. I have finally made up my mind that I MUST continue the story, no matter how bad I do, because the worst would be to leave it undone! So here it is...
Water. Mika felt the cool liquid flow down his parched throat and sooth his dry body. He felt like the withered, leathery jackal carcass he had seen in the desert, but as the water flowed through him, he began to feel alive again. He was sure there could be no sweeter water on earth that what flowed in that Tadmor cistern, and he thought he must be the luckiest boy in the world to be tasting it.
Finally he opened his eyes and gazed up at the early morning sky as he took another gulp. His stomach felt tight, but he kept drinking until he felt sick and had to sit down and lean forward to keep himself from vomiting.
When the camels had drank their fill and the city gates were opened, the group enjoyed fresh fruit, cheese, and hot bread from the market. Later, settled on his mat near the stables, Mika thought about all that had happened. Finally he turned to Yousuf, the only person to talk to, "Do you think the Ancient brought us through the desert?" He asked.
Yousuf drew his long knife across a sharpening stone. He shrugged, "Master Bobac would say so."
"Do you think the Ancient made water?" Mika asked.
Yousuf shook his head and took another swipe at his blade. "I don't know," he said, "Ten days ago I would have said that was crazy talk, but I don't know. Maybe the old man has something after all."
Mika rolled back over and looked at the rough ceiling. His thoughts blended with the musky odor of animals and the munching sound of the camels. Soon, he slept.
The caravan spent three days in Tadmor, recovering from the long desert trial and letting the camels rest. The city was not so different from the others he had seen, though the languages sounded different and there were more great roman pyres and high stone carvings. This city, mostly inhabited by Seleucids, was strongly influenced by the Romans, as well as the many other cultures that passed through it's gates on the trade routes between Mesopotamia, Greece, Rome, and Palestine. In the middle of the desert, it was built over a generous oasis, providing plenty of water for the famished caravans and camels that came through. Mika had been amazed watching the 14 camels from the Maga Caravan, each sucking up enough water to fill a pitcher bigger than himself.
Always searching for a gift for the Child King, Mika wandered through the market whenever he could. He never seemed to find anything just right that wasn't more than his gold coin would afford.
One day, peeking around a rough stone wall, Mika saw a wide courtyard surrounded by stone images and with a fountain in the middle. He skipped over and climbed up onto the low wall of the fountain, dipping his hand in for a little drink. A man yelled at him and he quickly jumped down again. Looking around him, he saw many familiar Babylonian gods, as well as others he didn't recognize. Mika walked closer to the image of Marduk. It gave him a strange, comfortable and yet frightening feeling as he gazed boldly at the deity he and his family had worshipped as the maker of mankind. He had never thought much about what Marduk looked like. He had a tall dome-shaped crown, braided hair and beard, two sets of wings, and in his hands a pine cone and a bucket. Now Mika wondered what it all meant, but he didn't have anyone to ask. He had never stared so boldly before, but always fallen to his knees and spoken words he didn't understand as his family made offerings.
He looked around at the other gods. He thought of the child king he was expecting to see--a real breathing, moving man-god he could hear and see. The gods of his people had never seemed to be anything more than stone or bronze. Suddenly Mika had an idea. He ran as fast as he could back to the stables where Yousuf and his companion were sitting watch. Yousuf lay on his mat and watched Mika digging deep in the belongings in his sack.
"What are you doing?" Yousuf asked. "Staying out of trouble, I hope."
"I found the place of the gods," Mika answered, finding what he was looking for. "I'm going to make an offering." Then he was off.
Yousuf lifted himself from his mat and followed. He was hard pressed to keep up with the boy through the crowded twists and turns of the city streets, but he came around the wall and leaned against it just in time to see the boy throw a small object into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.
"What did you do that for?" he asked.
"I didn't need it," Mika said, "Master Ghasaan gave me that little god, and I thought it might help me grow taller, but I would rather have a God who helps travelers survive the desert and makes water and lives and breaths more than I need any other god."
Yousuf walked around until he found the statue of Nergal, god of war. He stared at it thoughtfully, as Mika had Marduk. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the boy had already lost interest and was leaving the courtyard. Yousuf followed, but as he passed the fountain, he slipped something from his wrist and dropped it in the water. As the boy and the soldier made their way to the fruit market, a band of silver with the image of a winged lion with a man's head slipped beneath the sunlit water and settled on the bottom next to a little white bone image of a god with legs crossed and hands on its knees.
Finally he opened his eyes and gazed up at the early morning sky as he took another gulp. His stomach felt tight, but he kept drinking until he felt sick and had to sit down and lean forward to keep himself from vomiting.
When the camels had drank their fill and the city gates were opened, the group enjoyed fresh fruit, cheese, and hot bread from the market. Later, settled on his mat near the stables, Mika thought about all that had happened. Finally he turned to Yousuf, the only person to talk to, "Do you think the Ancient brought us through the desert?" He asked.
Yousuf drew his long knife across a sharpening stone. He shrugged, "Master Bobac would say so."
"Do you think the Ancient made water?" Mika asked.
Yousuf shook his head and took another swipe at his blade. "I don't know," he said, "Ten days ago I would have said that was crazy talk, but I don't know. Maybe the old man has something after all."
Mika rolled back over and looked at the rough ceiling. His thoughts blended with the musky odor of animals and the munching sound of the camels. Soon, he slept.
The caravan spent three days in Tadmor, recovering from the long desert trial and letting the camels rest. The city was not so different from the others he had seen, though the languages sounded different and there were more great roman pyres and high stone carvings. This city, mostly inhabited by Seleucids, was strongly influenced by the Romans, as well as the many other cultures that passed through it's gates on the trade routes between Mesopotamia, Greece, Rome, and Palestine. In the middle of the desert, it was built over a generous oasis, providing plenty of water for the famished caravans and camels that came through. Mika had been amazed watching the 14 camels from the Maga Caravan, each sucking up enough water to fill a pitcher bigger than himself.
Always searching for a gift for the Child King, Mika wandered through the market whenever he could. He never seemed to find anything just right that wasn't more than his gold coin would afford.
One day, peeking around a rough stone wall, Mika saw a wide courtyard surrounded by stone images and with a fountain in the middle. He skipped over and climbed up onto the low wall of the fountain, dipping his hand in for a little drink. A man yelled at him and he quickly jumped down again. Looking around him, he saw many familiar Babylonian gods, as well as others he didn't recognize. Mika walked closer to the image of Marduk. It gave him a strange, comfortable and yet frightening feeling as he gazed boldly at the deity he and his family had worshipped as the maker of mankind. He had never thought much about what Marduk looked like. He had a tall dome-shaped crown, braided hair and beard, two sets of wings, and in his hands a pine cone and a bucket. Now Mika wondered what it all meant, but he didn't have anyone to ask. He had never stared so boldly before, but always fallen to his knees and spoken words he didn't understand as his family made offerings.
He looked around at the other gods. He thought of the child king he was expecting to see--a real breathing, moving man-god he could hear and see. The gods of his people had never seemed to be anything more than stone or bronze. Suddenly Mika had an idea. He ran as fast as he could back to the stables where Yousuf and his companion were sitting watch. Yousuf lay on his mat and watched Mika digging deep in the belongings in his sack.
"What are you doing?" Yousuf asked. "Staying out of trouble, I hope."
"I found the place of the gods," Mika answered, finding what he was looking for. "I'm going to make an offering." Then he was off.
Yousuf lifted himself from his mat and followed. He was hard pressed to keep up with the boy through the crowded twists and turns of the city streets, but he came around the wall and leaned against it just in time to see the boy throw a small object into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.
"What did you do that for?" he asked.
"I didn't need it," Mika said, "Master Ghasaan gave me that little god, and I thought it might help me grow taller, but I would rather have a God who helps travelers survive the desert and makes water and lives and breaths more than I need any other god."
Yousuf walked around until he found the statue of Nergal, god of war. He stared at it thoughtfully, as Mika had Marduk. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the boy had already lost interest and was leaving the courtyard. Yousuf followed, but as he passed the fountain, he slipped something from his wrist and dropped it in the water. As the boy and the soldier made their way to the fruit market, a band of silver with the image of a winged lion with a man's head slipped beneath the sunlit water and settled on the bottom next to a little white bone image of a god with legs crossed and hands on its knees.