Secret Magdalene by Ki Longfellow Read Free Book Online

my dead mother’s sister, Rachel. He is almost as serious as Nicodemus of Bethphage. Their only son, my cousin Eleazar, is a sickly little thing. To live in the house of Uncle Pinhas and Aunt Rachel is to grow old while I am yet a child. Tata will be a slave among slaves, inferior to those who serve the master’s own children. My father is rich and important; therefore my female cousin cannot ill treat me. But she shall certainly make Tata and me pay for the shame brought on their house by my presence. And Tata more than me. I have met my cousin Martha. I know this will be so.
    And no books! Cicero said that a room without books is like a body without a soul. I cannot live without my soul. Still, to do as my father bids me is the sum total of my duty. What else can I do? What is Salome doing right this very moment? She is going to Heli of the Way’s house, that is what she is doing. And then I think this thought: if Salome can go to Heli’s house, Tata and I can go to Heli’s house.
    It is as if all the stars in the sky fall into my mind. I do not have to do what Father tells me. I can feel my heart beating in the tips of my fingers and at the roots of my hair and at the base of my spine. I love Father. I know he loves me. But Father is trapped in his Law and in how he is required to behave. And did not Addai of Shechem say he should care for me as if I were his own beloved daughter?
    “Tata, pack a basket with whatever you value most. Then help me pack my things and Salome’s things. We are taking as many baskets as we can carry, for we are leaving Father’s house.”
    “To Bethany?” she asks.
    “No, not to Bethany.”
    Tata’s spirit would escape out the top of her head if more joy crowded in. Or more fear.

    T ata and I arrive breathless at Heli’s gate at the second hour of the night, to find all in turmoil. Immediately we are bundled from sight, sent to join Salome who greets us with shrieks of relief and delight. Salome and I cling to each other and await our fate.
    In the fourth hour, we are told to rise up and prepare ourselves for travel.
    We shall go as males. It seems we are leaving Jerusalem. Having no more to lose, neither Salome nor I object. So it is that we five—Addai the Samaritan, Ananias the merchant, Tata the runaway slave, and two “youths,” both outcasts—set off east through the streets of Jerusalem, watched from the shadows by Heli and Dinah of the Way as well as by others we do not know and cannot see. Heli presses a book into my hand as I pass. It is one he treasures, and I weep to receive it. We walk toward the Gihon Spring Gate and the Kidron Valley.
    Beyond that, I do not know where we go. I merely follow Addai.
    We walk all through the night. Somewhere on the way down through the steeply dropping country to the east of Jerusalem, I fell asleep and Addai picked me up as if I were a swaddled babe. He has carried me now most of the way. Ananias and Tata have walked, a donkey between them bearing our worldly goods. Our worldly goods are not much. Salome has ridden a second, smaller donkey. Barefoot, Addai travels with all that is his, his tools and the female donkey Salome rides. He calls her Eio. Salome whispers that
eio
is Egyptian for ass. I am still surprised at the sponge merchant joining us. Does he not have goods to protect, servants to see to, the Queen of Demons to avoid? But there have been no explanations.
    Where are we going? All I know is that we go east, and that the east is the Holy Land, for the east is the place of the coming forth of Helios, the sun. Addai leads us; we follow no path. Even in the dark I can tell the land we travel is as barren as Sarah’s womb. From the heights of Jerusalem we have dropped down and down, following the folds in the hills, some of which are as narrow as the streets of Jerusalem and some of which are as deep as tombs. The rain comes and the rain goes, but never enough to wet us through. The night air smells of dirt once baked and