A Slave's Servant Ch.2

One of the soldiers yelled at some others going up and down the street in a language that I couldn’t understand. I was starting to understood what was going on. The Babylonians were finally here. I could remember hearing some adults arguing about whether they would come to our village or not. My mind tried to grasp what was happening. How could I, an eight year old, be defending the village with the men? Why wasn’t I with the other children and their mothers?

Before I could process any of it, I heard the distinctive march of soldiers headed for our hidden refuge. One of the soldiers demanded in Hebrew, “Surrender or we come in there and take your head off.”

One of the men peaked outside through the window and reported that we were completely surrounded on all sides. Caleb’s father drew a deep breath and nodded at my father who nodded back in return. Caleb’s father drew another breath and shakily replied, “We surrender. Just do not hurt the boys.”

“Oh we won’t,” the soldier scoffed. “Release your weapons and walk out. Rebellion will be punished swiftly from this point forward.” My stomach had twisted itself in to a huge knot. Caleb’s father led the way. My father placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me out. When we reached the door, he gave it a final squeeze and released it.

The moment I reached the threshold a soldier grabbed me. Another invader herded my father and the man in front of me in the opposite direction. The soldier placed me behind the line of older boys. Our fathers were in a line standing opposite to us. I looked down the line and noticed we were standing tallest to shortest. No one spoke a word. We knew this was standard practice before mass decapitation. I knew that I was not ready for death. My breaths became heavy and sporadic. I attempted to control my panic as a man should but to no avail. I wpuld be the first to die my heartbeat thudded so lpuded it nearly drowned out my thoughts. I focused on take each breath quietly.

aaKhaat… shtaayim… shaalosh…

One of the enemy soldiers pulled out his sword and walked straight for me. I was shaking. A million thoughts ran through my head all at once- thoughts of my family friends, family, and my God. When he finally was standing right next to me, he looked very puzzled. He looked back at the man who had grabbed me from the house and spouted off something I could not understand. He turned back to me and held up six fingers- then seven and so forth until he reached ten. He pointed at me and began the whole process. He seemed to be counting, but he was only pointing at me. On his third time through the odd ritual, I figured out what he wanted. I pointed at myself and then held up eight fingers and then pointed at myself again. He seemed angry with this answer and pulled me out of the line, and handed me to a different soldier. I thought that he was going to kill me right then; instead, he dragged me off to the man who had been speaking Hebrew.

After a brief conversation, the man turned to me. “How old you?” He said in broken Hebrew. I replied that I was eight. He asked, “Where you mother? Why you here?”

“My father brought me. I do not know where she went.” With this answer he shouted at another man in his native language. This man grabbed me and put me on a horse. He swung up beside me. The horse began to gallop. We appeared to be retracing the path my father and I had taken about an hour beforehand. I was relieved that I was alive but still scared that that would not last much longer. On this ride I saw house that had once had an oil lamp burning inside them now on fire. The well had been destroyed. I knew we would be approaching my house soon. I began to wonder what I would see there once we passed it.

A wave of memories overcame me. I remembered Father telling us stories of Moses, Aaron, and Jacob while we did chores. He always said that Jehovah was pleased with these men and we should strive to be like them too. I remembered playing with Obed on the floor as Mother kneaded bread. I thought back on all the evening meals we shared together. There was always laughing and smiling. Our house was always filled with joy.

I snapped out of my dazed as we neared my house-or rather what used to be my house. Our humble abode was engulfed in flames. It was barely distinguishable from our neighbor’s that was also on fire. Only someone that had lived there for many years like me would have been able to tell that two houses had once stood in the midst of that fire instead of just one.

As we approached the edge on town, I could make out that there were many, many soldiers gathering. The soldier pulled me off of the horse and made motions to follow him. I submitted and tried to figure out where he was taking me. I was having trouble matching his stride. Before long I saw a group of children and figured he was taking me there. I quickly learned that I was right. The soldier led me to the back of a line of boys tied together. He took a piece of rope and tied one hand to the boy in front of me. By this time I knew that I was being taken back to Babylon as a captive. I had heard that the Babylonians did this but I never thought they would take me.

I turned to look out beyond the village. The only time I had ever been outside my town was to go to Jerusalem for Pentecost. In my childhood wonder I had always thought that when I became a man I would go out past my simple life and see what lied beyond my small town. The only thing I felt while waiting for something to happen then was fear. The wonder was gone.

I felt a large hand tap me on the arm. I turned to see another soldier and several boys. At the front of the group stood Caleb. I had never been more elated to see my playmate. The soldier grabbed my free hand. He joined my hand with Caleb’s with one quick, tight knot.

The night progressed and more women and children were added to our small band. I did not see my mother or Obed. I hoped they had made it to safety but my heart feared the worse. There was no way a women and a small child could sneak past or outrun a trained soldier. As soon as the sun started to set one soldier came to the front of the line and pushed on the shoulders of the boy at the front of the line. The boy sat down with a confused look on his face. The soldier went to the next boy and repeated the action. The third boy sat down without being pushed. The boy seemed to have pleased the man so they rest of us followed suit. He smiled and sat down with his sword right next to his right hand. I gazed around and noticed the rest of the company was preparing to sleep. This struck me as odd because morning was upon us. I thought maybe this was normal for the Gentiles so I decided to try to get some sleep because I didn’t know when I was going to be allowed to sleep again.