The Youth of Jerusalem

Indeed, the poor you will always have with you among the living. But you will not always have me.” It was the Master who said this, and this we apply to this very day.

Considering his entire life, a religious boy had indoctrinated himself for much of his youth, offering the peaceful years of his single and brief soul to YHWH. Well, he is still small, but you know, there are times when a man knows when his hour has come. His voice resembled angels and seraphim; a rigid gentleness would be eternally stamped upon his strong face, marked by dried tears and many stories. Like Jesus, the Christ, he taught the Way that the people should take, having his slanderers and admirers. And I, Teokor, was among the slanderers.

GUEST

The first time I saw the young man, right away I noticed that his appearance was what moved everyone around him the most—not because he was divinely handsome like a Greek god. Far from it. But his gentle, deciduous countenance drew attention among us. His arrival in our small town was sudden, on a late afternoon when the sky trembled with thunder, giving birth to an alarming storm.

The boy, a naive and frightened child, had not been warned or informed about the harsh weather conditions to which we were already accustomed in the countryside. The sound of so many things coming could be heard, so I leaned against the front porch of my house and began calculating the price of everything coming out of the moving truck.

Then, I saw as if it were the vision of a celestial boy, stepping elegantly out of a city car, modern for the time. His lips bore a smile that would not fade even in death, and his eyes looked at every corner of his new home, admiring with innocence the beauty of the place. I sighed with boredom, purposefully shouting something like, "My, what a rain that's about to fall! Just when I wanted to go on one of those picnics...", probably to dampen the kid's fun. He raised his eyes to the sky and, seeing the black clouds gathering, felt compassion for those who were helping him with the furniture, dismissing each one to their home. The little one tried to gather everything under a large gray rug he had, leaving it in the corner of the entrance, but he knew he wouldn't be able to carry it all inside in time, so he sat on the stairs and reflected. Seeing all these things from my oh-so-cozy house, I laughed loudly and arrogantly remarked to myself:

— Well, who would have thought. Another fool coming to this hell! But... looking closely... I predict that this one won't last more than two or three months alive!

I laughed like a drunkard, finding amusement in my own terrible and sarcastic conclusion, stopping my laughter when I noticed the youth stand up and stretch his body, apparently with an idea in the back of his mind. He placed over his head a white, pure veil that covered his face from the cold and the gale that winter brought with it, beginning to walk with his sandals—which covered none of his feet—toward the houses around him. His cold, delicate hands knocked against many doors, while his passionate voice spoke clearly:

— Let me in. It's getting dark out here, and the cold has mastered my little house: I have nothing to cover myself with and nowhere to sleep tonight.

It was almost a certainty to me that I would see many instantly welcome an angel like that who, in such a somber and hellish region, brought a strange yet clean light. It was completely the opposite. I could see all my neighbors turning down the boy's hand, some with eyes of fear of the unknown, others with envy of his being, and others suspicious. I raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the child's small misfortune in so little time here, but I stopped when I noticed him approaching my house. I quickly retreated inside, fixing my hair and my sleeves, prepared to reject him just like everyone else. Having knocked on my door, I slowly opened it with boredom and disgust, trying to appear imposing to the youth, who looked up into my eyes, opening his mouth and repeating his sweet words:

— Let me in. It's dark out here, and the cold has mastered my little house: I have nothing to cover myself with and nowhere to sleep tonight.

I looked the little one up and down, stomping my boots on the floor to frighten the boy, making him step back and reflect a little. While he thought, I was able to examine the boy better: skin lightly sun-kissed by years of sun, black hair soft to the touch, beautiful eyes, as gentle as... Oh. To this day I have no comparison, nor any way to explain his gaze.

After a long silence, he insisted again, unlike how he had simply ignored the rest who had denied him.

— Come on, sir. I am already soaked by the rain, and nothing in my house is ready to shelter me. Let me sleep for just one night.

I felt as though something about the lad held greater authority than I did, and in my heart, I felt that if specifically I were to reject him, upon me and my family would come great gnashing of teeth and distress, so I simply cleared the way to my living room for the young man, who soon took off his wet coat and hung it on the entrance rack, the clothing dripping and soaking the entryway. He softly greeted my wife, who was cooking her most delicious delicacies, but he was distracted by the racket emanating from the upstairs bedroom.

— What's going on?

— Uh. Nothing? It must just be my sons Samuel and Ivan. They're worse than a cockfight, — I joked, smiling without humor, to which came the voice of my wife with my leather belt in her hands.

— Come on, Teo. Give them one of those good beatings you always do!

She placed the belt in my hands, wiping her fingers on her lace-trimmed floral apron. I looked toward where my sons were shouting, apparently arguing over something to do with chores, and withdrew from their presence.

My presence intimidated anyone, and I felt like the King of my family. I remember giving my sons a beating, making them grumble curse words against me and Satan, while my wife stirred her wooden spoon in the air, encouraging me with harsh words.

Once that was over, I found myself walking back to where my wife and the youth were.

— Forgive me for having you hear that...

I paused, expecting him to interrupt me with his opinion, but I could only find his calculating gaze upon me. Ivan shattered the scene when he entered the kitchen with a icepack under his arm. At the time, my sons were not considerably larger than the youth. Samuel had his mother's red hair, and the other was dark-haired like me. Ivan's eyes fixed on the youth, analyzing the strange, calm figure in the midst of the chaos. Before he could say anything, my other son came up behind and mocked:

— Who's the beggar mom took in this time?

— SAMUEL!

I shouted sternly, but seeing that I didn't move, he shrugged and continued.

— What's your name, little fetus?

— My name is Elisha, — he said neutrally, his voice so melodious that my two boys exchanged glances.

— And what are you to our parents?

— A neighbor.

— And how old are you to be sleeping alone in a stranger's house?

— Sam, stop bothering the young man. Poor thing, he looks so exhausted from the trip! Come, my child, take a hot shower, or you'll catch a cold, — Bera, my wife, defended the boy, treating him as one of her own, with a warmth she had never shown to any of us.

Elisha nodded his head and looked around:

— But I don't have clothes with me, ma'am...

— That's no problem! I'm sure you're not much younger than my boys; they'll proudly lend you something.

Her voice moved with the boy's kindness, while Samuel and Ivan made faces behind their hands.

— Come on, boys. Prepare a spot in your room for him, and let one of you sleep on the couch.

I forced them both, reaching out my hand in advance to prevent them from protesting. Either way, I heard the lads going upstairs to their rooms, already arguing about who was going to sleep on the couch. My wife sweetly petted the boy's hair before moving to the laundry room. I turned to the little one, awkwardly trying to lighten the mood, and commanded:

— Well, well, well, didn't you hear Mrs. Bera? Go take a shower. Or do you want me to take you and wash you myself? — I said in an ironic tone, trying to draw a smile from those delicate lips, but I only saw him turn and go to the bathroom. I don't even know how he knew where the bathroom was.

I stood staring at him until he disappeared; after all, my habit was to make others laugh, but seeing a small child resist my humor felt like a deliberate provocation to my person.

Soon I sat on the couch and sighed, lighting my favorite pipe, the smoke leaving my mouth with all the accumulated fatigue.

— At it again with that garbage pipe, Teokor?

— Honey, I'm already stressed from today. Don't make me get stressed about our wedding day!

I coughed between commas from the pleasurable pollution in my lungs. While reading my newspaper with a monotonous gaze, I could hear the silent footsteps of the youth approaching, and soon I noticed his figure coming near me.

— So, Mr. Teo...

— Yes...?

— Stop smoking. It's annoying me. The smell goes all the way to the bathroom.

At that moment, I froze a bit at such boldness from Elisha. Not even my sons had defied me like that. But something inside me made me slowly put out my pipe, unable to argue with the child. That night, dinner was almost ethereal with the presence of the young man, and for the first time, I was able to sleep without worrying about nightmares and sleep paralysis in the middle of the night.