the city, still teetering in search of his land legs.
Lll
True to King Jeroboam’s words, a curtain of cold rain cut a diagonal path through Gath-hepher’s valley, as a cold front collided with the moist air stalled over its mouth. The deluge ground southward, scouring the landscape like a liquid glacier. Its leading edge formed a sheer wall of water, whose low rumble gave only a few moments’ warning of its approach.
A dry leaf littering the threshold of Gath-heper’s wadi road lifted in the bow wave of air roiling ahead of the torrent—only to be slammed against the bedrock the next moment beneath the torrent. After a moment, the leaf shuddered, then slipped from the sill and spun in the current of a gathering rill racing down the gully. Whirling in eddies as it coursed around rocks and boulders, the bit of foliage danced through ruts and gullies gouged into the road by similar flash floods of ages past. Its pace slackened as it flowed onto the byway at the valley floor. There the leaf came to rest, caught in folds of coarse cloth that enveloped a human form lying near the base of a rocky outcropping.
As the rising water penetrated his clothing, Jonah stirred and drew his knees against his chest, his eyelids flickering at the cold moisture against his skin. He lifted his head and squinted into the blackness. A muffled roar reached his ears only seconds before the onslaught of rain overtook him. He was drenched in seconds. He buried his head in his arms and rolled away from the muddy cascade, stopping against the bulging sack wedged between himself and the boulder. Grasping the parcel close, he hugged the base of the outcropping for refuge.
It was normal for storms like this to pass over after a few minutes. But this one lingered, the skies pounding the valley without mercy for over two hours. It swelled into brutal buffeting that stung the skin, then ebbed to moderate abuse with sheets of water that soaked and chilled to the bone. Jonah was never so miserable. His befuddled mind urged him to seek shelter, but the inky blackness denied him any chance to find it. So for now, he could only lie there and hope the rain pummeling his body might distract him from the agonizing memory of the previous evening’s row. Gradually, the pinging on his skin faded into dull drumming as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Fitful dozing gave way to dead slumber, in spite of the rain and cold. Jonah had no idea how long he slept. His fancy floated him high above the clouds, drinking in the deep blue of the awakening sky. He embraced the stars in farewell as they surrendered to the yellow-orange halo on the eastern horizon just moments before the sun exploded into view and wrestled command of the heavens from his lunar consort. The stars blinking out one by one morphed in Jonah’s reemerging consciousness to the intermittent tapping of raindrops on his face. When he regained a semblance of awareness, he was relieved to discover the deluge abating to little more than a sprinkling. He reckoned the sky seemed less dark, perhaps the suggestion of delayed predawn—or maybe only a wistful remnant of his dream.
Fuzzy images of yesterday’s events slogged through his besotted mind, but he wasn’t sure how much really happened and how much he imagined. He hoped that his memory exaggerated the worst of it, but a nagging intuition told him it hadn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut against the ugly images, but they clung to his conscience and racked him with guilt. How could he ever go back after what he’d done? Ehud was right. He didn’t belong there anymore. They were better off without him.
Jonah struggled to sit up in the muck. Half erect, he cupped his head in his hands and shivered as slimy clogs of mud writhed down his wrists and into his sleeves. Wispy strands of grimy hair plastered to his face guided rivulets down his cheeks and into his beard. The effort to sit upright rewarded him with a back spasm that stabbed him like
Lll
True to King Jeroboam’s words, a curtain of cold rain cut a diagonal path through Gath-hepher’s valley, as a cold front collided with the moist air stalled over its mouth. The deluge ground southward, scouring the landscape like a liquid glacier. Its leading edge formed a sheer wall of water, whose low rumble gave only a few moments’ warning of its approach.
A dry leaf littering the threshold of Gath-heper’s wadi road lifted in the bow wave of air roiling ahead of the torrent—only to be slammed against the bedrock the next moment beneath the torrent. After a moment, the leaf shuddered, then slipped from the sill and spun in the current of a gathering rill racing down the gully. Whirling in eddies as it coursed around rocks and boulders, the bit of foliage danced through ruts and gullies gouged into the road by similar flash floods of ages past. Its pace slackened as it flowed onto the byway at the valley floor. There the leaf came to rest, caught in folds of coarse cloth that enveloped a human form lying near the base of a rocky outcropping.
As the rising water penetrated his clothing, Jonah stirred and drew his knees against his chest, his eyelids flickering at the cold moisture against his skin. He lifted his head and squinted into the blackness. A muffled roar reached his ears only seconds before the onslaught of rain overtook him. He was drenched in seconds. He buried his head in his arms and rolled away from the muddy cascade, stopping against the bulging sack wedged between himself and the boulder. Grasping the parcel close, he hugged the base of the outcropping for refuge.
It was normal for storms like this to pass over after a few minutes. But this one lingered, the skies pounding the valley without mercy for over two hours. It swelled into brutal buffeting that stung the skin, then ebbed to moderate abuse with sheets of water that soaked and chilled to the bone. Jonah was never so miserable. His befuddled mind urged him to seek shelter, but the inky blackness denied him any chance to find it. So for now, he could only lie there and hope the rain pummeling his body might distract him from the agonizing memory of the previous evening’s row. Gradually, the pinging on his skin faded into dull drumming as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Fitful dozing gave way to dead slumber, in spite of the rain and cold. Jonah had no idea how long he slept. His fancy floated him high above the clouds, drinking in the deep blue of the awakening sky. He embraced the stars in farewell as they surrendered to the yellow-orange halo on the eastern horizon just moments before the sun exploded into view and wrestled command of the heavens from his lunar consort. The stars blinking out one by one morphed in Jonah’s reemerging consciousness to the intermittent tapping of raindrops on his face. When he regained a semblance of awareness, he was relieved to discover the deluge abating to little more than a sprinkling. He reckoned the sky seemed less dark, perhaps the suggestion of delayed predawn—or maybe only a wistful remnant of his dream.
Fuzzy images of yesterday’s events slogged through his besotted mind, but he wasn’t sure how much really happened and how much he imagined. He hoped that his memory exaggerated the worst of it, but a nagging intuition told him it hadn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut against the ugly images, but they clung to his conscience and racked him with guilt. How could he ever go back after what he’d done? Ehud was right. He didn’t belong there anymore. They were better off without him.
Jonah struggled to sit up in the muck. Half erect, he cupped his head in his hands and shivered as slimy clogs of mud writhed down his wrists and into his sleeves. Wispy strands of grimy hair plastered to his face guided rivulets down his cheeks and into his beard. The effort to sit upright rewarded him with a back spasm that stabbed him like
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