Mercy in America by Michael Fulkerson and Michael King - HTML preview

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CHAPTER EIGHT

 

The new moon Lane set out to mark the date of his return home had come and gone, but Lane was still in the city of Joppa.

Thoughts of home revealed the wisdom of his uncle to invite his mother to go to his home in Shiloh, for it looked as though this trip to the city would not be a short one.

WHAT IF SHE HAD COME ALONG? Here was a question worthy of asking. He did so, as he pushed the familiar two-wheeled cart down yet another city road.

All the deliveries turned out to be a quick method of learning the city’s streets, it’s shops, and the people, too.

“Lord.” Lane began to pray, for this had become his constant habit. “I want to thank you for walking with me in this strange place. You blessed me with a certain place to sleep, and you provided me with a solid job right from the start. I have not gone hungry a single day, not since I left those familiar hills back home.”

He was heading for the waterfront this time.

“Lord. I’ve been reading the scrolls Simon gave me to study. And, I want to ask you something.”

Lane stopped in his tracks to consider how he would say this next part. And, it was as if there were only two people in the city, just Lane and the Lord.

“By your servant Job, the spirit says it is wisdom to fear the Lord. And, he also says that to shun evil is to show understanding. These are lessons that interest me. Please teach me what you mean, because I want to live in accord with you.”

Lane began to walk again, moving off toward his next stop. The sky was almost clear, but for a few clouds.

“Lord. I have been seeing these clouds, too. They are everywhere. Please don’t take offense, but I’ve come to think of them as friends. But, not just any kind of friends. I am seeing them as they back up, like soldiers from you. It helps me to focus.”

The place he was looking for was just down the next hill, but he could already see boats in the harbor.

For just a minute, Lane thought he saw a familiar face in the crowd. But, then he put his mind back on the task.

He was to pick up the fish this time. And, there were some hungry people back at the camp. It would be a good chance to see if he could spot which was Matthew’s schooner.

WHY WAS HE THINKING ABOUT MATTHEW? It was a possibility that he would get a chance to see his old friend, the man who had walked with him into the city. It was just a few weeks ago.

Stopping for another moment, he looked over the harbor to see if he could figure out which boats were schooners, but he couldn’t tell one type from the others.

There were some clouds, however. And, the clouds reminded him that he had been talking on that topic to the Lord. It was just a moment ago.

“Lord. Whether these clouds represent friends to me, I am not certain. They are your creation. For, there’s nothing here on Earth that you did not bring into being. I ask you to let them be friendly to me.”

Lane started walking again, moving down the hill now, as he got closer to the docks and the loading site.

“I have not been to this part of town, Lord. I could use as many friendly faces as you’re willing to send me. And I am grateful to you. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.”

This was the tricky part of the journey. Simon had told him about it. The bottom of the hill presented three different paths. And, Lane meant to take the left-most access.

Another thing he had been warned about was the security in and near the port area. Several men stood in various locations. A few were alone, but their eyes were together and on every person coming or going.

A man approached him now. This guy had red hair and an earring in his left ear lobe. His whiskers were too long and dirty.

When the man spoke, however, there wasn’t any hint of foreign birth. Lane understood him perfectly. This was a surprise.

“Where you going?!!?” The man challenged.

Lane saw that at least three other men watched, and they paid strict attention to his answers. And, it was just more than just eyes. He could feel the pressure.

“Simon sent me down here. He said I could speak to, or ask for Logan Jakes.” Lane knew, for Simon had explained it to him, there was NO Logan Jakes.

Logan Jakes was a code name, and it worked like a key in a door lock, but only down here at the port.

Now, having heard it, the red haired man directed Lane as to where he needed to go next.

Gold or silver coins would be exchanged later, but Lane wouldn’t be a party to that. Right now, his only task was to push the cart through the streets of Joppa.

Some other men would load the cart.

While they were doing so, Lane took the time to look around a bit. He wasn’t going anywhere, but his eyes wandered.

There were more than fifteen ships in the harbor, and several more smaller boats. Some were closer to the docks, and every one of them had its’ own flag.

He saw other ships further out to sea. It looked as though some were coming to port, but others didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

The smaller boats were also about the same size, but they differ in colors. Their flags were nearly the same, and Lane guessed them to be from this harbor.

Lane knew the fish came off of one of these local boats, but which one was a question unanswered.

He would have paid more attention to the fishing boats, but there was something else going on. It was down the path he had just been on, and it was shocking.

Naked people walked in a line, or they were being forced to walk in a line down the hill leading to the harbor.

Lane saw their chains, but he was even more surprised to see they were both men and women. All young, and most were Jewish.

Two more things caught his eyes.

One of the naked people was the man he had met at Pedro Taylor’s mission. It was Nathan.

Nathan now had a ring through his nose just like the others. This was a sign of slavery, and Simon had told Lane about it. The docks were a place where slaves would be loaded onto ships or, in some cases, slavers would off-load them, too.

Nathan had managed to get himself promoted from house servant to a complete slave. And, not just any old slave. Nathan was going to find himself loaded onto one of those ships in the harbor. And, he would be gone.

“Lord.” Lane spoke suddenly to the Lord. “I need your help here. Tell me what I can do, PLEASE!” His words were loud enough to be heard.

The other thing that Lane learned was that those loading the fish onto his cart were nearly finishing with their labors. He would soon depart from this area.

The red haired man approached him again. “Tell Simon not to send you again.” The man spoke with an ugly tone now.

Lane squinted. And, he wasn’t sure he heard the last part clearly.

The other man filled in the gaps. “Things are changing down here, as you can see.” The man’s nod went towards the naked slaves, most of which were Jewish.

“You could get yourself into the same kind of trouble, just like them.”

Those were the final words of the red haired man.

Lane grabbed the cart, and he thought about the long walk back to Simon’s camp.

With one more look back at Nathan in chains, he moved off and out of the harbor area. The cart seemed like nothing in his hands, as though there were no weight or burden. Lane’s mind was on the Lord.

“You got to help me, Lord. Things are changing here in the land you promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We have sinned again, just as we’ve done since crossing Jordan. And, it’s been our nature to forsake your commands.”

He stopped at the top of the hill and looked back down at the ships in the harbor.

It was still possible to see the slaves, but that only true for knowing where to look for them. From this distance, to somebody not knowing better, they could be just more people in the crowd below.

“These northerners are making slaves of our people, Lord. And, I want to do something about it. What can I do?”

This time, when he looked for them, Lane could see storm clouds gathering over the water to the west. There was lightning, too.

“Yes, Lord. Let that be your answer to me. Let it be that you are angry enough to help your people, Israel. But, I have no idea what to do. Help me, Lord; I ask for your mercy.”

A thought came to Lane. IT was about the slaves and what was going on with them.

First of all, they didn’t seem to be going anywhere in a hurry. All of them stood below. They were like livestock brought in from the field.

Moving off again and on his way to Simon’s camp, Lane picked up speed. It was good to be young and so full of energy.

He’d get back there and see if somebody knew which ship was the schooner belonging to Matthew, the one Matthew sailed on. He would be coming back to the harbor later. It would be just a few hours, and he would have better information and a plan.

The city streets and pathways were a blur, as Lane took each and every turn. He didn’t greet people, as had become his custom. There was too much at risk, too many things to do.

What if the slaves were put on a ship and left the harbor before he got back? What if nobody knew anything about schooners or Matthew?

Such questions and such thoughts seemed to sustain him, and he made good time on the trip back to Simon.