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

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CHAPTER SIX

 

Lane found himself standing inside a cave, or that’s the way it looked to him, on clearing the doorway. Things widened out a little, and the place was lit by oil lamps. Two things caught his eye.

First of all, there were a lot of people in this cave, most of them were moving.

The other thing involved the exits. There seemed to be just one more doorway. It was in the back of the cave, and it was hard to see what exactly was going on back there.

Nobody waited for invitations, but they nearly all joined in to unload the cart.

“Come with me!” The older man ordered him, the guy Lane met earlier and followed through the streets of Joppa.

Lane didn’t comment, but he now noticed a few of the men in the room were still watching him. They weren’t talking, but they weren’t unloading fish, either.

Lane followed the older man through the other door, which led them into a tunnel, a tunnel winding down into the earth. He couldn’t guess how deep they had moved or how far they had walked.

Other people brushed by them, and the walls were also lit by oil lamps. Finally, they emerged into the open air. Lane could see the stars again.

“Let’s find a place to talk!” The old man suggested. “And let’s get you something to eat!”

The mention of food relaxed Lane, somewhat that is. That thought had actually left his mind again; it happened somewhere in the city streets. Rather he had stopped thinking about it.

The old man led him to a woman. She seemed to have charge over the cooking. Best of all, she handed them both a steaming bowl of stew.

“May the Lord bless you for your kindness.” Lane blessed the woman.

She smiled and spoke a language totally unknown to Lane. But, he took it to mean she understood that he was grateful.

The old man addressed the woman in her tongue.

Both the old man and the woman smiled at each other, and then they looked at Lane.

“She doesn’t understand Hebrew.” The old man informed Lane. “But, she does understand that you’ve acknowledged her kindness. You’ve been invited to tell her more about the Lord.”

Lane followed the old man to another place nearby; it was still possible to see the lady cook.

“How am I going to tell her about the Lord, if I can’t speak or understand her language?” Lane’s question made perfect sense to him.

The old man didn’t respond to that question, but he sat down on a tree stump to enjoy his stew.

Lane joined the old man on another stump, and he tasted the meaty stew. It was obviously lamb, but there was also a number of vegetables.

It was rather amusing to be sitting in the open air, very tired, in a strange city, in the middle of the night.

Lane enjoyed himself in that moment. “Thank you, Lord.” And, he gave thanks.

The two men spoke of Lane’s life up until this journey to Joppa. Not many details were left undiscovered. It was odd, but the more the young man spoke about his life, his beautiful mother, or his disappearing father, the more he relaxed into the idea of the Lord being on his side.

“I knew from the moment I was told that I could make my own decisions, when I reached the age of deciding, that I’d come to Joppa.” Lane confessed.

Lane had also learned that the old man’s name was Simon. And, it wasn’t that he had been told this; rather, those walking by would greet him by that name.

It was late, and Simon thought to himself how pleasant Lane had turned out to be. The kid was likeable.

“Listen, Boy.” Simon got to the business, but he didn’t mean to insult anybody. “Or, Lane. I did offer you work last night.”

Lane nodded his head. “What’s the job? And, what does it pay?”

Another smile crossed the old man’s lips. “I remember when questions like those meant something more to me.” He rubbed his whiskers and continued. “The pay is food and a place to rest, but it’s the job that’s more likely to interest you than the pay.”

Expectation flooded Lane’s face, and he could not hold back this obvious question. “What’s the job?”

“You mentioned the Romanists.” Simon began.

“That’s right. I mean to find out where my father went, and I intend to begin with those northerners. It’s where my father was going.” Lane told him this simple truth.

“Boy, I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve been watching them for a long while now. You could help me do that.” Simon hesitated and then continued. “But, it’s not a good idea to approach them head on and just start asking questions.”

Lane was puzzled. “Honesty is always the best plan.”

“There’s honesty,” began the old man. “But, then there’s planning out what you’re doing and being honest about what you show them.”

“I don’t follow you.” Lane admitted himself slow this time.

Simon tried to meet Lane where he could comprehend, “If I send you down there with some other task, say a delivery, then you could get some idea of what’s going on inside closed doors. And, it wouldn’t be dishonest.”

“You really think we need to be careful with these people, don’t you?”

Lane questioned his new friend, but it was in the line of seeking clarity.

“I think it would be worth all the gold in Solomon’s treasury to find what these Romanists are up to.” Simon was also very clear.

Lane couldn’t hardly believe what he had just heard. “You really are serious. Aren’t you?”

Simon stood up. “I’m betting they had something to do with your father’s absence over the last three years, and it’s a good bet they know what’s been going on with our disappearing neighbors.”

Lane just stared at Simon. He still couldn’t quite believe his ears.

But, Simon spoke again before Lane had a chance to react verbally.

“It’s getting late, and you’re going to need sleep.” Simon looked around and stood up. “Follow me!”

Lane grabbed his duffle, a make-shift bag really, and he followed Simon into a crowd of people.

Several turns and twists later, and the two men came to an area that would provide for sleeping. It was really a tarp, which could not be seen well for the darkness, and it was a covering for several mats tied by ropes between the trees.

Lane was very tired, or he would have investigated the matter further. He wanted sleep.

Suddenly, the thought of his belongings came into his mind.

“Don’t worry about your clothing!” Simon told him. “There isn’t anybody in this camp that’ll steal from you.”

Lane said a silent prayer, a first for him, because he normally spoke to the Lord clearly. Then, he acknowledged Simon’s promise. “That’s a comforting thought. But, I trust that the Lord will provide for whatever I’m going to need. Thank you.”

“I meant it.” Simon insisted. “Nobody here will steal from you. And, I believe you’re right about the Lord. Get some sleep!”

Lane decided to lay his pack under the mat he’d be sleeping on.

Then, he laid down and stretched himself out.

But, his mind turned to the Lord and, speaking ever so softly, he began to pray.

“Sovereign Lord. I’m in this strange city, but I am not alone. You saw to my needs even before I got here. I have figured that much out already. Thank you for your mercy and your goodness.”

He scratched his whiskerless chin and shifted a bit to get comfortable, and he continued to pray.

“I’m not really certain what I’m doing here in this camp, or really in this city. But, I trust that you have come with me to guide my steps.”

Lane noted the fact that Simon had already gone to sleep, for he could hear the old man snoring.

“Lord. I’m going to trust that you put me into this camp for your own reasons. I’m going to trust you in all things.”

Incredibly, those were Lane’s final thoughts for the night, for he managed to slip off to sleep.