The Journey Begun by Bruce Judisch

into Sheol with his errant angel? Yes, Sheol.”
    The claws tightened and drew Jonah into a ball. Even through his stupor, he never felt so helpless or scared. His tormentor shot for the heart.
    “Think of your brother. What would he say? What about Boaz?”
    Jonah jerked his head and his eyes flew open, unseeing and burning from an agony not of this world. A guttural cry tore from his chest and pierced the stillness of the night. He collapsed onto his back, hacking and gasping for breath. He groped at his chest for the amulet, panicking when he could not feel it in its usual place. The memory of sewing his belongings into the belt faded in and then out again, leaving him clutching the front of his cloak. A spasm convulsed Jonah’s body, but still his mind choked through the pain. I can’t...Eli...I just... The panting bubbled through mud mingled with sweat and tears flowing over his lips. His gasps subsided as he slid into fitful sleep.
     
    Lll
    The sun obliterated the horizon with a vengeance, slicing through the valley and scattering the shadows in its onslaught. The morning light prodded the land, breathing promises into the dormant earth and coaxing Creation from the safety of slumber into another day of vulnerability. Rolling along the valley floor a few moments behind, the tide of warmth searched hidden places even the vanguard of light could not penetrate. She paused for a moment to consider a lone shivering human form huddled beneath the branches of a small tamarisk tree aside a rutted and rocky donkey path. The man was not alone. She moved in.
    Fingers of warmth wisped around and through the folds of a rough woolen cloak, weaving a [B19]   thermal cocoon around the figure’s twitching chest and limbs. They tugged at the icy claws that paralyzed their victim and strove to leach out his will to live. Time slowed and watched the battle raging between the force of life and the grip of death.
    “He is mine. Leave him to me.”
    “You presume too much.”
    “He rebels! He delivered himself to me.”
    “Be gone. You have no power here.”
    “He is mine. I have won him.”
    “There will be a season, but it is not now.”
    “He will never return. Give him to me now. Now!”
    “Depart! Lest I invoke Him who—”
    The claws snapped and the prone form shuddered and jerked free of its fetal cramp. Warm tendrils massaged and exhorted a moan from Jonah’s dry lips. He rolled onto his back with a raspy sigh and squinted into the deep azure of a new morning filtering through the branches above him.
     
    Lll
    “Eli?” A hand squeezed the veteran’s shoulder. He jolted, and his right hand shot out to the short sword lying at his side.
    “Eli, it’s Hadassah!”
    He craned his neck toward his sister’s anxious face, struggling through eyes fogged by too much of last night’s wine. Releasing his grip on the weapon, Elihu rolled onto his back and rubbed his aching forehead with the heels of his hands. He coughed through a rancid mouth. Waves of burgundy pain crashed through his head. “Hoi , my head...”
    Hadassah stood up. She pursed her lips and frowned. “I’m surprised you didn’t drown yourself. You finished the first four cups of wine faster than I’ve ever seen anyone drink just one.”
    He squinted against the insolent morning sunlight streaming cheerfully through the open door. “What’s the hour?” He struggled to sit, still holding his head.
    “Late. It’s past midmorning.” She stepped over to the table and removed the cover from Eli’s breakfast, which had been waiting for him since first light. Stooping, she extended the dish of figs, goat cheese, and cold lamb.
    Their pungency summoned a wave of nausea from his sour stomach. “Hoi! Take it away!”
    Hadassah jerked the plate back and hastily returned it to the table. She replaced the cloth covering, for good measure. The worried look reclaimed her face as she settled onto a chair and faced her brother. “Eli, Benjamin has gone to look