Story Blog: Forgotten, Part One

The Forgotten
By Andrea Graham

The sullen young man, trapped by the eternal night which so recently befell him, submitted to the humiliation of allowing his father to lift him from the cart and lead him up the steps of Uncle Benjamin’s home.

He was a shepherd. His father was a shepherd. His father before him was a shepherd, and so was his father before him. Then a lion attacked his flock, killing two young lambs. Josiah slayed the lion, but the stubborn dying beast stole his sight with one final lash at him.

Blinded, he was a disgrace to his family, bringing dishonor where once he was honored. He tightened his grip around his stick, a bitter taste in his mouth. Before his father whittled it down, this instrument was a noble staff to protect his sheep. Now unable to keep watch over his sheep and hence of no use to his family, his father brought him here to Jerusalem, to live out the rest of his days in asylum.

“Just one more, we’re almost there,” his father whispered, then called, “Hail, Uncle.”

His uncle’s voice called back, “Hail, Natan and Shalom, Josiah.”

As Josiah stumbled over the last invisible step, smooth but wrinkled hands clasped his hands, already hardened in his nineteen years by many nights spent with his sheep in the hills of Galilee. His uncle released his hands then and, seizing him by the shoulders, granted him a stunning peck on his cheek right below the blindfold he must have somehow managed to not notice. “My, how handsome you’ve grown. I don’t believe I’ve seen you since the Passover the year of your bar mitzvah, Josiah.”

His father started, “Well, as you can see…”

“Yes, yes, your messenger told me. Don’t worry, he’s safe here.”

“Thank you, Mary and I appreciate this, Uncle. Farewell, I must be off. Take care of yourself and mind your uncle, Son.” His father’s footsteps echoed down the stone staircase.

His uncle called, “Boys, come greet your cousin!”

A young male voice sneered, “Surely you jest, Father. He’s unclean.”

A second added, “Really, Father, offering asylum to a blind beggar. This is too much.”

“Enough! I have given Natan my word. He stays.”

Josiah’s cheeks burned, remembering the ill treatment he received at his cousins hands at the Passover feasts of his childhood. They snubbed him as a shepherd. He didn’t even want to think about what they would do to him now. “I’m tired, may I rest?”

His uncle took his hand. “Yes, here, I’ll show you to your room.”

As his uncle led him, his cousins whispered about him with contempt in their voices. He couldn’t shake the feeling they were staring at him, but couldn’t confirm whether they actually were.

He shook his head in disgust and despair. If only the Law of Moses didn’t forbid the murder of your own flesh. His integrity trapped him into this dishonorable life, yet his honor bound him to leave it. He could sleep in his uncle’s house, but he would have to beg in the streets like the rest of the forgotten ones if he wanted to eat. Never. He may be a blinded shepherd, but a blind beggar, absolutely not. No, he would pray and fast until the Lord returned his sight and if the miracle never came, Lord forgive him.

To be continued….

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