Chapter 3: A Choice

The momentary relief on Lanishe’s face was very real when Abish and her father walked in the house. Rather than allow her worry to turn to tenderness, however, Lanishe demanded irritably to know where they had been. Armac’s truthful explanation only fueled her anger and she began protesting everything—visions, priests, her husband, the king, her inconsiderate daughter. Her fury took several minutes to burn out as she hastily threw together breakfast. Abish made a move to help but stopped quickly as her mother’s heavy wooden spoon found her knuckles. Her heart sunk—the joy from the night was nearly gone. If her mother would not listen, then what hope was there that strangers would heed?

Armac said little throughout the meal. His unwillingness to argue finally quieted Lanishe. He left after breakfast. He had only been gone from the house for a few minutes when Lanishe said, “What is your father going to do? He talks as if he will refuse to perform the sacrifice, as is his duty. For our safety, you must tell me about his plans.”

Abish was filled with quiet anger. She knew that shouting and harshness was not the path of a believer. She knew that her father’s gentle approach was what God would want, but it was very hard. “Mother, if you just would listen to father, you would see that what he is going to do is not wrong. It is what God wants from him.”

“The gods want servitude and sacrifice. You know nothing of them.”

“And what do you know of them?”

Lanishe said nothing; she just narrowed her eyes at Abish. “You are not to spend any more time alone with your father. On the day before the sacrifice you and I are going to go to my sister’s home in Midian. Then the consequences of your father’s actions will not be visited on us. We will be far away and we will tell nobody where we are going.” Abish’s aunt lived many, many miles away in a city about the same size as Middoni. They had their own king, and Abish knew they would indeed be able to start over there. Lanishe had grown up in Midian, but had not been there for many years. Abish did know that her aunt was a widow with a spacious home and nobody but herself and a few servants to fill it. Abish had only a vague memory of her.

Abish took a deep breath before she disagreed. “Mother, I don’t think it is necessary.”

“Then tell me what his plans are. I will decide what is necessary.” Abish wavered, and her mother could see that she was breaking her down. “Is he going to approach the other priests with what he has seen?”

“They won’t listen.”

“How does he know that?”

“You won’t even listen!”

“It is all lies. They will tell him as I have told him.”

“God has told him that they will be angry if he speaks to them.”

“So then he should do nothing. He should keep his foolishness to himself.” Abish looked away, knowing that the truth would only cause her mother to leave this home and her father, dragging Abish along too. But if she didn’t tell, they would probably go anyway. There was no good answer. Lanishe read Abish’s down turned eyes easily. “He isn’t going to keep it to himself is he?”

“How can he hide the truth God has so clearly demanded he share?”

“This new god of yours is a fool.”

“God expects much.”

“Too much.” She paused and stared into Abish’s pleading eyes. She then turned abruptly and said, “Pack anything you can carry on your back. We will go tomorrow after your father leaves the house. We cannot risk staying any longer.”

Lanishe spent a busy day cooking and cleaning. She was demanding of Abish’s time and said very little other than to give her new tasks. Abish had not packed. She was trying to decide if she would even go. She was so young—too young to stay on her own for very long. If something happened to her father. . . it was too horrible to think about. As she went about the mundane housekeeping tasks her mother kept finding, tears would well up in her eyes at the thought of leaving her father and all of his wisdom behind. He had taught her more of real value in this past night than she had learned in her whole life. The thought of moving to a new city and never knowing his fate was devastating.

Late in the afternoon Abish said to her mother, “If you are leaving him on his own, then why are you so anxious to have food cooked and his clothes mended?”

“I am not heartless, despite what you think. I just refuse to be dragged down with him for something that I cannot believe in. My feelings for your father have greatly waned over the recent days—maybe even recent years, but I am not without compassion.”

Abish said nothing as she ground the corn for the cakes that might be her father’s last meal, contemplating her own future. Did she dare take some of these cakes and hide in the forest? What then? If her father was killed what would she do? How could she survive? She was not so naïve to think she could make it on her own. Her father had told her many times on that wonderful night that the most important thing she could do was listen to the voice in her heart. But how could she hear it for the pounding in her chest every time she thought of staying behind?

Near supper, Lanishe said with finality, “There is no other way for me to keep you safe than to flee with you tomorrow from this city. You are too young to understand these things. And much too young to take care of yourself. You are not stupid, Abish, and you must see what I am trying to do. But your sulkiness this day tells me you are foolish—like your father.”

“You once must have loved him.”

“That was a long time ago.” There was nothing to say after that. Abish could think of nothing and her mother did not elaborate. “Begin dinner, daughter, your father will be home soon, if he is coming tonight.”

Armac did come home that night. He was distracted and said nothing. When Lanishe stood to clear Armac’s dinner bowl he said, “I know that you are going to leave, Lanishe. This is a good thing. My actions on this coming sacrifice day will undoubtedly place you and Abish in danger. I would not wish that on you. I have made my decision based on God’s requirements. My life and testimony is small penance for the innocent blood I have helped to shed over the years, but I have no wish to see you fall with me.”

“Yes, husband.” No more words passed between them that night in Abish’s presence. As she lay in bed, she pondered her father’s words of approval concerning their removal from Middoni. He had not wished any harm to come to her, but he had given her the truth. Was she just to run away from it now? Move to a strange city with no connections? Let her mother arrange a marriage to a man who understood nothing of her heart or her convictions? The future she could see was more unbearable than the one she could not. And while her heart still pounded away in her chest, the feeling of peace came again, strong and alive underneath her fear. She knew God would watch out for her just as he would watch out for her father.

As she made her choice, she was for a moment wistful for their regular routine that now seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it was less than a week since her father had shared his news. It had never been perfect, but she found herself longing for everything to be normal again. But it never would be now. Her father knew the real God and would be killed for Him. Abish knew his testimony was true and she could not run away from it.

When the night was at its darkest, she stole carefully down the stairs and filled her knapsack with some of the food she and her mother had spent the day cooking. There was nothing else to do but go. She stood at the threshold and squared her shoulders, breathing in the feeling of calm. In the years to come, the memory of her father’s voice would fade and many of his teachings would be forgotten, but she would never forget the way her spirit felt at just that moment when she took her first step into the darkness. That precious serenity would be her light in every difficult place. At the moment of decision, the Lord was with her.

Without looking back she walked out the door. For the second time she escaped into the dark street and into the night. She followed the vaguely familiar path into the forest and to whatever other destination God had for her.