CHAPTER FIVE
Serious about finding his father and some kind of reason for the man’s three year absence from home, Lane went into the city. He did this even though it was getting dark.
He was also thinking about food. That thought had escaped his mind earlier, but he had not eaten since daybreak.
“Lord.” Lane prayed. “You are sovereign in this city, too. It’s part of your world. And, I need your help.”
“Boy.” A man’s voice bellowed from behind him.
Lane turned around to respond. “May I help you?” He saw a middle- aged man pushing a two-wheeled cart stacked with fish. The old guy was dirty, but he looked every bit a working man.
“Are you looking for work, Boy?” The old man questioned him. “Thank you, Lord.” Lane finished his prayer but quickly.
“Don’t thank me, yet.” The old man said. “This is not a job for weaklings.”
Lane did not bother to correct the older man’s assumptions about to whom he had spoken when giving thanks, but he asked for obvious information. “What sort of work are we talking about?
“Well, I need help with this cart, Boy.” The older man supplied.
“My name is Lane.” Lane made an attempt to correct the elder over his use of language. He didn’t like being called “Boy” just then.
The old man just kept pushing the cart, as he moved on past Lane.
“Sure it is, Boy. Now, see if you can keep up!”
Lane fell into line with the older man, and then he couldn’t resist offering. “I thought you said you needed help with the cart.”
The old man set down the rear section of the cart, sort of balancing it on a stick that hung from the rear of the cart. He passed the cart’s handles over to Lane. And, he spoke again. “I do, Boy. Nice of you to get involved.”
“Where are we going?” Lane inquired.
With a smile this time, the old man motioned them forward. “It’s this way, Boy. Follow me!”
It was surprising how well balanced the cart was. This was Lane’s thinking, as he followed the older man through the darkened streets of Joppa.
They had turned left and then right, right and then left, and then went around a corner. After that, Lane lost track of where they were.
“It’s just a little farther.” The old man assured.
Lane had no idea where they were going, but he continued to follow the older man, trusting both that he knew where he was going, and trusting the Lord was behind this job.
Lane noticed two things.
First of all, this old guy didn’t talk much, or he wasn’t talking yet. They had now spent quite a bit of time together, walking on into the night hours, but there were not a lot of words coming from the old man. And, there was another thing.
It was uncomfortable to be around so many people. Men and women were still in the streets, even a few children. Every last one seemed busy. They’d hustle about to complete some task or another.
Lane knew they weren’t working together, but they were all doing something.
These city dwellers each seemed to have an assigned duty to perform, and they didn’t greet one another, not like the people Lane knew back home, and their eyes never met his. They looked scared.
Lane also knew that the old man was paying attention to him, watching to see what Lane noticed, but there had not been any conversation about it, not yet.
The old man said at one point that it was somewhere past the second the second watch of night, and they finally made it to where the old man was headed.
“We can drop the fish off here.” The old man directed. He was pointing to a doorway, a doorway that was somehow fastened to the side of a hill.
Lane couldn’t see any hinges, nor could he stop himself from asking questions. “What sort of place is this?”
The old man whistled. But it was for somebody else’s ears.
Lane could hear somebody on the hill above; or perhaps they were behind it, they whistled back. It was still impossible to see anybody up there.
The door in the hill was opening from the inside, and three men stepped out into the night air. They were obviously there to keep watch for the old man.
“Let’s bring the fish inside!” The old man wasn’t really talking to Lane anymore.