We Have Gone Astray
“Can you see the angels, Yousef?” Miryam struggled to speak through rapid, shallow breaths. “There should be angels. Have they come? Can you see any?” Yousef, clean shaven with close cropped hair, pulled his cloak closer around his tunic. He leaned nearer Myriam but not close enough to touch.
“Why would there be angels?”
“Look outside, Yousef. Look!”
Myriam sat on her bench in a corner of the cave. The pain hit again, and she doubled over. A midwife wiped the sweat off her face as she labored through another contraction. Yousef walked past the mouth of the cave and made an obvious show of searching the night sky.
“There will be angels, Yousef.” Myriam shouted through clenched teeth, fighting the pain. “To praise him. They will descend from heaven to praise the coming of the Lord.”
“Yeah, there they are. I can see them now. Just like you said. Angels.”
“Where, Yousef? Where are they?”
“Above us,” he spoke wearily. “All around. In the sky.”
“Yes. I can hear them now! I can hear them singing! Can you hear them?” Yousef entered the cave without answering and slid past the cow that took up most of the room.
“I can feel the head.” The midwife said softly. She had spread Miryam’s legs wide to examine her. “It won’t be long now, child.” Miryam breathed rapidly as another contraction hit her.
“You do hear them, don’t you Yousef?” He didn’t answer. “Yousef?”
“Of course, I can. I just can’t make out what they’re singing.” Myriam tilted her head, straining to hear. After a moment a smile spread across her face.
“Praises! They’re singing his praises! Just as I knew they would!” She paused gasping for air, her face a mask of terrible happiness. “Oh, Listen Yousef. They sing, ‘Hosanna.’ Can you hear it?” The midwife looked at Yousef, her face filled with silent questions.
“Yeah…Hosanna.” Yousef took in a deep breath and let it out. “I can hear them singing now. Hosanna.”
A powerful contraction doubled Miryam over forcing out a scream. The midwife reached under the bench and pushed her hand carefully between the young woman’s legs.
“I’ve got the head. It’s facing the right direction. Push now, woman. Push and you will deliver.”
Another long, desperate wail squeezed out of Myriam. A deep breath and another cry. Then a rapid, high-pitch staccato. Not hers. An infant’s cry, sounding for all the world like a bleating lamb.
“Mother, you delivered a son to your husband.” The midwife put the newborn in Miryam’s arms. She tied off the umbilicus, cut it and tended to the afterbirth. She wiped blood and mucous from the infant, wrapped him in swaddling and returned him to Miryam’s arms.
“This is a holy night, Yousef. Yousef? Answer me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He’d taken several steps away from mother and child. “Holy night.”
“And you see now. Don’t you, Yousef? I didn’t betray you. This is the Son of God. The Messiah promised to us. Just as I said it would be.” She let out a strained, breathless laugh. “Our baby.”
“Your baby.”
“He is the Word made Flesh. You see that, don’t you? And you’ll stay, won’t you? You have been chosen to stay. To protect us. You will stay with us, won’t you, Yousef? You won’t leave us. Not like you left…”
The midwife blotted sweat off Miryam’s face and waved away the flies. Through it all Miryam had a dreadful smile stamped on her face. Like everything was changed because it simply had to change. Her world had been made right.
“Five days on the back of a donkey. With her ready to give birth at any time. Right in the middle of a dirt road.” Yousef muttered as much to himself as to the midwife. “A full day and night of labor. In a cave stinking of manure. And she hears angels.” He shook his head and almost laughed. “Well. So, what? She’s young. Who could blame her? Just fifteen and married to... a hard case like me.”
“Husband, come look at your child”.
Yousef set his mouth shut. It would end badly if he spoke. Had months to prepare for this but now it was real. And it hurt. Like an arrow through his chest. What made it worse was, he still loved her. Loved her enough to lie to her. He laughed to himself.
Imagine me caring. About anything. The madman of the Vigilum Urbani. The man everyone wanted on their patrol. The hard charger. The killer. But that was before. Before I wanted to be the man, she thought I was.
It was those dark eyes of hers. So full of peace. Calmed me to look into them. So, I kept looking. Until I drowned in them.
Took every step, like a lamb to the slaughter. Father’s permission. Marriage contract. Formal betrothal. Added onto my house. Everything! Vowed not to touch her. And kept that vow.
“I kept away from her that entire year.” The words were spoken out loud. The midwife took a step back and bumped into the cow.
“Your wife. I have to go to her.” She tried to slip by Yousef, but he leaned in closer. Spoke to her quickly.
“I kept my vow. Never touched her. And what did she do? Was it when she visited her cousin Elizabeth? Who’d she do it with? A friend? Rabbi? Roman? You know what she said? She said it was Yahweh. You believe that? Yahweh stole my betrothed. So now Yousef the madman, the killer, is Yousef the cuck. The fool who raises another man’s son.”
“Mama’s too weak. I must tend to her.” The midwife tried to push the infant into Yousef’s arms. “Take your son!”
“Not. My. Son.” The midwife shoved past Yousef. She helped Myriam up from the bench with her free arm. She stretched her out on a heap of boards and straw. Myriam lay there sobbing, chest rising and falling. Yousef took a step closer.
“You heard me. Didn’t you?” She didn’t answer. “Stop crying, can’t you? You’ll scare the angels away.” He reached over and dragged a feeding box next to her. Stuffed some hay in it and spoke to the midwife. “Put it in this.”
She gave him a look as hard as granite. But she fluffed the hay and lay the infant in the wooden trough. Then lifted Miryam’s arm and put it around the infant. She pulled Myriam’s robe aside and exposed her breast.
“Lean closer, mama.” She cupped the baby’s head in her hand and pushed it up against her. The baby latched on and began to suckle. The midwife smiled. “There now. Your boy is feeding.” Miryam stopped weeping. Her breathing became calm and regular.
“Yousef.” Her voice was hoarse and dry. “Yahweh has sent a savior…”
“Sir.”
“Miryam, I don’t want to hear any more about—”
“Sir.” Two men called from just outside the cave. Shepherds. The flock behind them bleating like bagpipes. One of them held out a small length of red cord in his hand.
“For the baby, Sir. Protection from the evil eye.” Yousef reached over, took the cord, nodded thanks. “You are a magician, yes?” The two shepherds watched the animals in the cave as they spoke.
“I’m what?”
“Shimon here says when a magician’s child is born, that one already has the powers.”
Shimon pointed. The cow, a few goats, donkey, geese, cats and dogs, all were crowding the manger, nuzzling the infant. He’d worked an arm out of his swaddling and every animal pushed forward to be touched by him. When he did, each one nestled against him. As if they were comforted. Miryam watched and let out a sigh, her sorrow gone.
“This one is blessed by Yahweh.” Shimon tugged Yousef’s arm.
“You think your god looks after this one? The same god that leaves you in rags in the cold? Lets you fight wolves alone. In the dark. You think that god looks after this one?”
“Oh sir, yes!” They answered together, smiling.
“No. The animals want the hay. That’s all.” Yousef shoved past them and into the night. Kept walking until he couldn’t hear them. Or the animals. He looked up at a night sky and the strange new star.
“Why betray me? We were happy. She was so loving.” He stared at the night sky until his neck ached. “One day, she’s my Myriam. In love with life. And me. Next day she’s a crazy lady. In love with a god she can’t see. Says Yahweh made her pregnant. To save us. Stupid, childish lie.” Yousef headed back into the stable, muttering. “All I ever wanted was aa wife and family. What kind of god takes that from a man?”
