Song of the Magdalene Read Free Page B

gently. “What is it?”
    He looked at me with steady eyes and I was afraid for a moment that he was unable to speak right then. I felt sure his eyes were telling me to pay attention.
    My first thought was that he was in pain. He needed Hannah. “How are you?” I leaned close over him as I spoke.
    â€œAfflicted.”
    I straightened up quickly.
    Abraham showed his teeth. His shoulders moved. And I realized suddenly he was laughing. Abraham was making a joke of himself.
    â€œYou shouldn’t talk that way.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t go off alone.”
    I suppressed a gasp and clasped my hands together. Of course Abraham would know I’d been off alone. We had no relatives hereabout, so there was no one’s house that I could pass the day in. I should have expected Abraham would figure it out. He might have even overheard me tell Hannah I was going to the valley.
    I pulled on my fingers, one after the other. “If you tell, it will be awful for everyone. Father will make Hannah go away.”
    â€œI won’t tell.”
    Abraham was older than me. Above his lip a fine fuzz held bits of crumbs from his morning bread. He wouldn’t tell. He knew what it would mean for his own life if he did. I folded my hands together and spoke with forced calm. “Why did you call me?”
    â€œTake me with you.”
    â€œWith me?” The words made no sense. “Where?”
    â€œWherever you go.” Abraham moved his lips with care, working to make each word clear. “You’re strong. Push me in the cart.”
    It was true. Though Abraham had to be at least thirteen, I was sure I weighed more than him, much more. Perhaps if he could stand, he’d be taller than me. But, then, Abraham had never stood. He never would. Abraham would never stand with the men in the holy services reciting prayers, though I knew he had memorized many of them. I had heard him mumbling holy words to himself as he sat before the fire on a winter’sday. I had even heard him cry out passages from the scriptures in dreams sometimes. This youth who held the Talmud so dear would never make the traditional pilgrimages to Jerusalem with the other men, would never stand in the court of men in the Temple.
    I considered his frail body now with dismay. “What would you do?”
    â€œThe same thing I do here.”
    I looked around. The late summer sun would grow too fierce for Hannah before long. She would return. If we were to go, we had to go fast. Could I push Abraham in the cart all the way to the valley? And how could the cart move among the tree roots? “I don’t know. It would be hard.”
    â€œLonely.” Abraham spoke loudly. “Your feet used to fly around the room, graceful and light. Now you are anchored like a boat at midnight. You must be lonely. I am.” His blue eyes sparkled. My own eyes were so dark, they bordered on black. But Abraham’s eyes were like the Sea of Galilee. They were like the heavens. They compelled me.
    I went to the side of the house and fetched the handcart, wondering whether I could really do it.Hannah did it, and I was already almost as large as she. Still, I was only ten. I leaned over Abraham, hooked my arms under his armpits, and pulled him into the cart. He was even lighter than I’d thought. Hannah often lamented the fact that he barely ate, but now I was grateful for it.
    His right hand managed to grasp the side of the cart. He struggled to get comfortable. I knew the position he preferred. I tucked his legs under him and rested him against the two logs Hannah kept in the cart for that purpose.
    Abraham smiled. “Hurry.”
    A sudden thought stopped me. “Hannah will worry.”
    â€œWonder.”
    I shook my head. “What are you saying?”
    â€œHannah will wonder, not worry. There is nothing to worry about for me. What more harm could come to me?”
    I stared at Abraham. It was true that no one would