The Journey Begun (22 page)

Simon jumped as a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

“Where
were
you?” Shem demanded.

“You sent me below.” Simon glared back. “Remember?”

The men locked eyes. Shem was first to look away. He spat onto the deck. “All right, all right. Let’s get her into the wind.”

“Which
wind? It’s coming from everywhere! Where did this storm come from? The sky was clear when I went below!”

“I don’t know,” Shem fumed. “I don’t
know!”

“And what did we hit?”

Shem’s eyes widened and went vacant.

Simon had never seen his captain freeze up like this. The storm was bad, but it wasn’t that bad. There was something else. “Captain?”

Shem worked his jaw, but there were no words.

Simon jolted again as a hand grabbed his leg. He looked down. The apprentice helmsman had come to and was groping to pull himself up. Simon pulled the young seaman to his feet.

“Take the helm.” Simon pulled him toward the tiller, but the shaken sailor balked.
“Take it!
Just hold it steady. Don’t try to change course.”

The seaman tucked the bar under his arm and dug in his heels. Simon pulled Shem down out of the wind, and the two men huddled against the bulkhead.

“What is it? What happened?” Simon searched his captain’s eyes.

“I don’t know what we hit. But it’s gone now.”

“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“It was—this is—” he grasped Simon’s wrist—“of the
gods!”

Simon stared at his captain. The only time Shem ever referred to the gods was either as a joke or in a curse. “The gods?”

Shem’s eyes bore into Simon’s. “What we hit, it—swam away.”

“Swam?”

Shem nodded. “The storm didn’t come in. It just appeared. Right over us. From nowhere. It just—”

“What are you saying?”

Shem began to drone. “We’ve angered a god. Maybe more than one. I don’t know gods. I don’t think I ever made one mad.” His eyes quivered on Simon as he stammered, “Do you know gods? What do you do about gods?”

Simon was at a loss. Worse yet, his captain was at a loss and that couldn’t happen, especially in a storm—and most especially in a storm like this one. He had to shake Shem back to his senses or they were lost.

“It wasn’t you.”

Shem jerked his head up. “It wasn’t?”

“No, it couldn’t have been. You said yourself you’ve never made a god mad. Have you done anything wrong today?”

Shem shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Then it couldn’t have been you. It was somebody else.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

The men froze as the air crackled around them.
“Down!”

They dropped to the deck as a bolt of lightning split the air and grounded into the sea astern of the
Ba’al
. Shem shook his head and struggled to his feet. He barked at two seaman cowering across the deck. “Get everyone below. Dump the cargo. Dump
everything!
If we don’t, we’re going under!”

Twenty-four

onah was curled into a ball among the grain sacks. Dreams wallowing in rancid wine tortured his mind. His stomach lurched, and a ball of acidic fumes rolled up his throat and hissed through clenched teeth. Its redolence violated his nostrils and shook him from his stupor. He jerked his head and squinted into the semi-darkness. Slowly, he became aware of the chaos engulfing the ship.

Men shouted. Cargo crashed and ground against the deck. The silhouettes of two men gelled through the blur heaving bundles through the hatch to other silhouettes. Jonah’s head pounded and his body ached from its cramped quarters, but he didn’t have the strength to rise. He dropped his head back onto the grain sack and closed his eyes. Then the sack disappeared and his head fell and cracked onto the floor boards.

“Hoi!
What’re
you
doin’ here?” Uri stood holding the grain sack and staring at the white-haired old man balled up at his feet. Jonah couldn’t answer if he wanted to. The ship’s carpenter called to his comrade. “Heman, get the Cap’n!”

Uri threw the grain sack toward the ladder and hauled Jonah to his feet. The sudden movement elicited another odiferous belch.

“Ye
gods
, man! What’ve you been into?” He dropped Jonah back to the floor.

Shem appeared at the head of the ladder. “What is it?”

“Him, Cap’n. We’re trying to save our behinds and he’s just lying there!”

Shem slid down the ladder and reeled through the pitching hold. “Go on, get back to work. I’ll take care of him.”

Uri hauled two more grain sacks to his shoulders and stumbled toward the hatch.

Shem grabbed Jonah by the collar and dragged him to his feet. “What’re you doing just lying there? Didn’t I tell you we
all
work aboard the
Ba’al?
We’re about to swamp, and we need every hand to move!”

Jonah jerked his head. “Swamp? Why?”

Shem roared, “Are you deaf and blind, man? We’re in the worst storm I’ve seen in over twenty-five years at sea!”

By now Jonah’s head had cleared enough to grasp Shem’s meaning. “But the sky was clear when Simon brought me down here. Have I been asleep that long?”

“It just came up. All around us. Out of nowhere.” Shem’s eyes went distant again. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

A notion nibbled at the back of Jonah’s mind. “From nowhere? How does that happen?”

“It doesn’t happen. It never happens.” Shem’s voice caught. “But it happened.”

The notion bit down, sending a spark of realization through his mind.
You know, Jonah, don’t you?
He rubbed his forehead and tottered as the ship lurched.

Shem grabbed Jonah’s shoulder and steadied him. The edge returned to his voice. “We need everyone on deck. There’s work to do.”

Jonah nodded and they both teetered toward the ladder. Shem handled the rungs like the practiced seaman he was, but Jonah slipped and nearly tumbled back down twice before gaining the top. His thoughts assailed him as he climbed.
You know this is your fault. You can’t thwart
Adonai’
s plan. No one can. You were a fool to run.

He flinched as he anticipated another attack of the stabbing pain that had become so common over the past week to slay the rational thought. This time there was no silky voice to counter his logic, no deadening ache to quash reason. His eyes widened at the realization of what he’d been doing—of what he’d done—since throwing off the angel’s words in the tanning shed back in Gath-hepher. Free of the agonizing claws that clenched his brain whenever he dared look back, everything came into focus—his family, Elihu, Moshe—everything.

With crystal clarity the foolishness of his words and the foulness of his actions crowded through his mind until the image of a frightened child dressed in red tatters and huddling in the corner of a filthy stall pushed all else aside. A wave of heat seared his forehead and he felt sick again, but this time not from the sea.
How could this have happened? What have I done?

Lost in his thoughts, Jonah topped the ladder and cracked his head on the fallen mast. Grabbing his forehead, he squinted into the gloom and froze at the chaos around him. Men scurried about the deck, hurling cargo into the sea. A granite-colored sky pulsated from horizon to horizon, swirling into a vaporous eddy above the ship. Lightning stabbed the sea and thunder shook the deck beneath his feet. The sea reared up and thrust itself in massive walls toward the
Ba’al
, but the ship managed to stay afloat. The billows always seemed to flatten and hit just below the level of the deck, shooting geysers of spray and foam into the sky. Even in the midst of the confusion, he noticed the sheen of water on the deck was thin, as if wetted only by the rain.

“Jonah!” Simon beckoned him from the tiller. “Stay low out of the wind!”

“I need to help the crew,” Jonah shouted through the din.

“Forget it. They’re almost done. There’s nothing left to do but wait out the storm.”

Wait out the storm.
A thought surged through Jonah’s head and it horrified him.
What? How can that help?

Simon clung to the tiller and dug in his heels to steady himself, but Jonah could see he was tiring. There was no way he could keep this struggle up much longer. The terrible thought grabbed Jonah again, and he tried to shake it away, but resistance was no longer an option. He clenched his eyes and fought for an argument—
any
argument—against it, but it was pointless.

So, I am to die? What then of my family? Am I never to see them again? There is so much to explain, so many things to say.

His throat caught and tears joined the sea spray, smarting Jonah’s eyes. A brief plea entered his thoughts.
But
w
hat of my calling? What of—Nineveh?
 
What was this peace he felt at the cursed name? The last time he uttered the word aloud, it choked him. Now uttering it in his mind calmed him. Was it facing death that paled the specter that was Assyria? Was this plea an empty attempt to manipulate
Adonai
, or was there more to it?

His words to his mother rushed back, “
Someone else can go!”
He grimaced as it occurred to him how true that was. Someone else
could
go…someone else
would
go. Jonah was to die, and
Adonai
would choose another. He had rebelled like Korah in the wilderness and, like Korah was swallowed up by the earth, he would be swallowed up by the sea.

“Shem thinks it’s the gods.” Jonah started as Simon’s words shattered his thoughts. The helmsman wiped his face and squatted against the bulkhead. His apprentice was back at the helm, giving Simon a much needed rest.

“What did you say?”

“Shem. He thinks this is the work of the gods.”

Jonah stared. “Why does he think that?”

“I’m not sure. The way the storm came up so fast. Maybe more.”

“He’s almost right.”

Simon stared. “What do you mean?”

Jonah looked Simon in the eye. “It’s not the gods; it’s one God. The only God:
Elohim Adonai
, who created the heavens, the sea, and the dry land. I am his prophet. I’ve been running from Him.” Jonah dropped his gaze. “This is all my fault.”

Simon was speechless. His eyes flicked to the panel of idols carved into the forward bulkhead as another thick bolt of lightning cut through the heavens. The sterile white light shaded them against the dark wood. He turned his eyes back to Jonah as another wall of water crashed into the atarboard hull, nearly knocking the two men to the deck.

“What do we do?” He grabbed Jonah’s arm. “If He’s your god, what are we supposed to do?”

Jonah’s desperate mind searched for one more plea, any other way, that might push the horrible thought away.

There is no other way.

He set his jaw and stared Simon in the eye. “Throw me overboard.”

“What?”

“Throw me overboard. The sea will calm. You’ll survive.”

Simon shook his head. “I won’t murder a man. I don’t care about the gods! If one of them wants a sacrifice, he’ll have to get one without my help!”

“Simon!” Jonah’s eyes pleaded with the seaman’s. “There’s no choice. It’s the only way. You have to believe me.”

Simon refused. “Shem would never allow it. Neither would the crew. They’d need proof that murdering you would make any difference, and I don’t think it would. No, forget it. It’s not an option.” He looked up at a shout from the helm.

“I need a rest! I can’t hold it much longer!” The apprentice helmsman gritted his teeth as he hugged the tiller against his side.

“I need to go.” Simon began to rise, but Jonah grabbed his arm.

“I’m telling you, Simon, this ship will sink if I stay aboard! Do you want to lose everything, everybody?” Jonah’s fingers dug into the sailor’s arm. “If I’m wrong and we all die, it won’t matter if I’m in the sea or on board, will it? But if I’m right, I’ve gotten what I deserve and you all live.”

Simon glared at Jonah. He shook his arm free and rose to his feet.

Jonah stood and grabbed Simon’s sleeve. “Call the captain. You said he thinks it’s the gods. He’ll believe me. He’s got to!” He pulled him close. “You’ve
got
to do this! You don’t have to
die!”

“All right.
All right!”
Simon yanked his arm loose and yelled in Jonah’s face. “We’ll leave it to the captain, but I hate this! This isn’t right, and I
hate
this!”

Simon pushed away and careened across the deck to where Shem supervised the last of the cargo going over the side. He pulled the captain aside and shouted into his ear. Shem’s eyes flew wide. He spun around and stared at Jonah. Turning back to Simon, he jabbed his finger into the seaman’s chest. After another terse exchange, Simon returned to Jonah’s side.

“He wants proof. I told you he would. Something like this can’t be done in secret. The crew needs to know.” Simon jerked his head, as though the matter was settled. He stood again and turned to relieve the helmsman, but an idea struck Jonah and he pulled him back down.

“Cast lots. See who the fault falls to.” He nodded as the idea formed in his mind. “The captain believes it’s the gods; surely he’ll believe me if the lot falls to me. He already knows I’ve confessed. If the ‘gods’ confirm it, that will satisfy him.”

Simon fumed at Jonah’s obstinacy. “Do you
want
to die? Look at the sea! Your only chance is on board with us.”

Jonah shook his head.
“Your
only chance is not to have me on board. Don’t you understand? This is bigger than me. It’s bigger than you.” His tone softened in spite of the gale raging around them. “Simon, I know what you’re thinking and I’m grateful for your concern. It just has to be, though. It’s not your fault.”