The Book of Longings(112)

“Yes, Pamphile,” Yaltha said. “She delivered the letter from Judas. She was weary. I helped her with some chamomile.”

We settled around the glowing circle of lamplight and I posed the question that loomed over everything. “How will I get past the soldiers?” I looked at their faces—I had no answer. They stared back—they had no answer either.

“Is there no way to leave here except by the road where the soldiers stand guard?” Diodora asked. “Is there a footpath that skirts around them?”

Skepsis shook her head. “We are hemmed in by the cliffs. The road is our only way of leaving, and the soldiers are positioned too close to the gatehouse to miss anyone who comes and goes from here.”

“Could you disguise yourself somehow?” Diodora asked. “As an old woman? You could cover your head and use a crutch.”

“I doubt they’d be fooled by that,” said Yaltha. “It’s far too risky. But . . .”

I prodded her. “What is it? We must consider everything.”

“Pamphile will leave tomorrow. The wagon she arrived in is large enough for you to hide in the back.” She glanced at Skepsis, shrugging uncertainly. “What if we concealed her beneath the sacks that store the vegetable seed?”

“The soldiers always search the carts that bring flour and salt,” Skepsis said. “They would search Pamphile’s wagon, too.”

They grew quiet. A thin, gray hopelessness crept into the air. I didn’t want them to give up. It was true I no longer believed in the God of rescue, only the God of presence, but I believed in Sophia, who whispered bravery and wisdom in my ear day and night, if I would only listen, and I tried now to do that, to listen.

What I heard was hammering. Faint, but so clear I thought for a moment Pamphile had wakened and was rapping on the door from inside the house. The realization that the sound resounding in my head was actually a memory startled me. I knew instantly what that memory was. I’d heard it that morning while watering the animals. It was the hammering from the woodworking shop as Theano’s coffin was being built.

The sound formed into an idea. I said, “There is one way for me to leave here safely, and that’s inside Theano’s coffin.”

They sat there with blank faces.

“I would not be inside the coffin long, only until Pamphile drives the cart an ample distance past the soldiers. I will take any risk to reach Jesus, but this one puts me in the least peril. The soldiers would never think to open the coffin.”

“That is true,” Diodora said. “Violating the dead is a serious offense. One can be put to death for opening a tomb.”

“And for Jews, a corpse is unclean,” I added. I tried but was unable to read Yaltha’s expression. She must have thought my idea was elaborately strange. “I believe it is the very boldness of the notion that will cause it to work,” I continued. “Do you think differently, Aunt?”

She said, “I think the idea of you riding away in Theano’s coffin is absurd, but it’s also ingenious, Little Thunder.”

My eyes rounded—no one had ever called me Little Thunder but Jesus. I received the name from her like a charge. Go, be boiling clouds and lightning spears and sky-splitting roars.

“Now,” she said. “Let’s imagine how you will accomplish this insane act.”

All of us turned pointedly to Skepsis, who was studying the trails of blue on the back of her hands. None of this could be done without her. I was proposing we confiscate Theano’s coffin, requiring another one to be swiftly constructed for him. Furthermore, if Skepsis entered into the deception, she would deceive the whole community.

“Lucian is our biggest concern,” she said. “If he suspects it’s not Theano in the coffin, he’ll convey his suspicions to the soldiers, and Ana is certain to be discovered.” She fell quiet, mulling further. When she lifted her face, her eyes were doing their owlish dance. “Theano’s wish was to be buried here on our grounds, but I’ll put out word that he wished to be buried in his family’s tomb in Alexandria. This is quite typical for our wealthier members. Of course, Theano’s family is not rich, but they would have enough for a mud-brick tomb, I’m sure. I’ll tell everyone that the servant who delivered the letter—what was her name?”

“Pamphile,” I answered, amazed at the intricacies she was working out. Until this moment, Lucian had not received a thought from me.

“I’ll explain that Pamphile was sent from Theano’s family to bring his body to Alexandria. This should resolve the matter.”

“It should also put an end to the outpost of soldiers at our gate,” said Yaltha. “If Ana is no longer here, there will be no need for the soldiers.”

“What about you?” said Diodora, looking at Yaltha. “Haran would still wish to arrest you.”

Skepsis lifted a finger. I knew this to be a good sign. “When Ana is well away, I’ll address the community, stating she has returned to her husband in Galilee and Yaltha has taken the vows to remain part of the Therapeutae for life. It will not take Lucian long to put this news in Haran’s ear. I think Haran will be relieved to have a legitimate reason to put an end to all this.”

“My brother will at least be thrilled to no longer pay the soldiers from his own money bags. The only reason he has kept the outpost going this long is so not to be perceived as backing down.”