Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Pete Hamill
to bring them the food and the drink . And they did. And they died.” She breathed deeply. “They were your brothers, lad.”
She hugged Robert tightly.
“Well, by God,” she said, “you won’t die.”
And then Da arrived, his work finished early, bending under the lintel of the door. Grave. His face set.
“Don’t worry, Rebecca, ” he said. “They’ll not get in here.”
He held her close to his chest, soothing her, and added. “Well, let’s have dinner. And Rebecca, darlin’? Why don’t you wear your earrings?”
That night in his bed beside the wall that contained the horse’s skull, Robert tried again to imagine the faces of his lost brothers and how they ran down a slope like the slope outside this door, to a road like the road outside this door, and gave food and drink to sickened people. And then died. He tried drawing their faces in his mind. Not the featureless creatures of his night dreams. Faces like his own, or those of his friends at St. Edmund’s or the boys he saw on his trips to town. And he thought: That was not fair. How could God let such a thing happen? If he was so powerful, why didn’t he stop my brothers before they reached the road? Make a storm or an earthquake or a flight of bees: but stop them while they were running down the slope? Robert began to cry.
Then the door opened and his mother was there, wearing her double-spiraled earrings.
“It’s all right, son,” she said. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Don’t cry anymore.”
“I don’t like God.”
“Ach, son, what a thing to say.”
“He let my brothers die. They never did anything bad, I’m sure of that, and he let them die.”
“He works in mysterious ways, they say.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Hush, now.”
They both went quiet. His mother gazed out the curtainless window, to where the trees stood silvery in the moonlight. She listened, fully alert, but heard no strangers moving on the road. Even Bran was now asleep.
“Did I ever tell you about Noah’s granddaughters,” she said, “and how the Hebrews came to Ireland?”
“No.”
“Well, the story starts just before the Flood. The world was full of wickedness then, and God was disgusted with his creations. So he planned a great flood. He appeared to Noah, who was then an old man, and told him to build an ark, a ship large enough to hold men and women and two of each animal in the world.”
“I know that part, Ma. What about his granddaughters?”
“Well, one granddaughter was named Cesara, and she was very smart and very good and kind. But she realized there would not be enough room for her and her woman friends on the ark. So she and her friends began to build smaller boats, seven of them. And sure enough, the rains began to fall, for forty days and forty nights, filling the world to the peaks of the mountain-tops. And Cesara and her friends began sailing to the west, because they lost sight of Noah and his giant ark. Only one boat survived the long journey, which took three years, because there was no land anywhere for them to stop. They ate fish. They drank rainwater. Some died. And then finally the waters of the world began to recede. And they saw land. Green and rich and beautiful. There were only three men left and fifty women, including Cesara. And they sailed for the shore, and it was Ireland.”
“They were all Hebrews?”
“Aye, every last one of them.”
She stared out at the night. The moon was gone. A soft rain was falling.
“They stayed in Ireland, and married and multiplied, and some of them kept the old ways, the old religion, the religion of the Hebrews.”
She gripped her son’s hand, then turned away. He understood.
“Are you a Hebrew, Ma?”
“Aye.”
She held the boy closer.
“Don’t be telling all your friends, now,” she said with a smile. “Some of them are pure stupid about Hebrews. Or Jews, as they call us. Does it make you feel any differently about me?”
“It feels grand, Ma. Sure,
She hugged Robert tightly.
“Well, by God,” she said, “you won’t die.”
And then Da arrived, his work finished early, bending under the lintel of the door. Grave. His face set.
“Don’t worry, Rebecca, ” he said. “They’ll not get in here.”
He held her close to his chest, soothing her, and added. “Well, let’s have dinner. And Rebecca, darlin’? Why don’t you wear your earrings?”
That night in his bed beside the wall that contained the horse’s skull, Robert tried again to imagine the faces of his lost brothers and how they ran down a slope like the slope outside this door, to a road like the road outside this door, and gave food and drink to sickened people. And then died. He tried drawing their faces in his mind. Not the featureless creatures of his night dreams. Faces like his own, or those of his friends at St. Edmund’s or the boys he saw on his trips to town. And he thought: That was not fair. How could God let such a thing happen? If he was so powerful, why didn’t he stop my brothers before they reached the road? Make a storm or an earthquake or a flight of bees: but stop them while they were running down the slope? Robert began to cry.
Then the door opened and his mother was there, wearing her double-spiraled earrings.
“It’s all right, son,” she said. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Don’t cry anymore.”
“I don’t like God.”
“Ach, son, what a thing to say.”
“He let my brothers die. They never did anything bad, I’m sure of that, and he let them die.”
“He works in mysterious ways, they say.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Hush, now.”
They both went quiet. His mother gazed out the curtainless window, to where the trees stood silvery in the moonlight. She listened, fully alert, but heard no strangers moving on the road. Even Bran was now asleep.
“Did I ever tell you about Noah’s granddaughters,” she said, “and how the Hebrews came to Ireland?”
“No.”
“Well, the story starts just before the Flood. The world was full of wickedness then, and God was disgusted with his creations. So he planned a great flood. He appeared to Noah, who was then an old man, and told him to build an ark, a ship large enough to hold men and women and two of each animal in the world.”
“I know that part, Ma. What about his granddaughters?”
“Well, one granddaughter was named Cesara, and she was very smart and very good and kind. But she realized there would not be enough room for her and her woman friends on the ark. So she and her friends began to build smaller boats, seven of them. And sure enough, the rains began to fall, for forty days and forty nights, filling the world to the peaks of the mountain-tops. And Cesara and her friends began sailing to the west, because they lost sight of Noah and his giant ark. Only one boat survived the long journey, which took three years, because there was no land anywhere for them to stop. They ate fish. They drank rainwater. Some died. And then finally the waters of the world began to recede. And they saw land. Green and rich and beautiful. There were only three men left and fifty women, including Cesara. And they sailed for the shore, and it was Ireland.”
“They were all Hebrews?”
“Aye, every last one of them.”
She stared out at the night. The moon was gone. A soft rain was falling.
“They stayed in Ireland, and married and multiplied, and some of them kept the old ways, the old religion, the religion of the Hebrews.”
She gripped her son’s hand, then turned away. He understood.
“Are you a Hebrew, Ma?”
“Aye.”
She held the boy closer.
“Don’t be telling all your friends, now,” she said with a smile. “Some of them are pure stupid about Hebrews. Or Jews, as they call us. Does it make you feel any differently about me?”
“It feels grand, Ma. Sure,