There Comes A Prophet Read Online Free PDF

encroaching cold, they met at the Not Tree. On this morning, she could hardly wait.
    She focused, making her hands move faster. Shift and weave. But the thoughts kept coming. Thomas was in a cold and lonely place. She could feel it but was unable to help. She concentrated on the loom until her hands were flying. Shift and weave. Shift and weave. But her mind would not rest.
    ***
    Time passed no more easily for Nathaniel. He began to press his father about teachings, occasionally approaching the point of impertinence. With each day Thomas was gone, he found himself slipping closer to the line.
    That morning, his father had asked him to help stack firewood. Nathaniel waited on the porch and surveyed the yard-it was covered with mounds he and his father had split through long hours at the chopping block. They looked like mountains.
    His father stepped outside, rubbed his hands together and blew into them.
    "Are you ready, Nathaniel?"
    He was tall for a man of the Ponds, but shorter than his son by a hand. Hard work on the farm had thickened his muscles in a way that would not come to Nathaniel for years. His hair was gray only at the edges, and his chin remained prominent. Deep-set eyes showed both the pain and joy of life. Nathaniel knew the pain was the loss of his mother, and he himself was the joy-the son she'd left behind.
    Nathaniel nodded, then held out his arms while his father piled three logs onto them.
    "I can take more, at least four, maybe five."
    "We don't need to do it all at once, Nathaniel."
    His father grabbed a couple of the larger logs and led him to the lean-to. They laid down an evenly spaced row on beams set parallel for that purpose and then went back for more. The next rows were laid crosswise to leave space for the wood to dry. After several trips, sweat began to bead on their foreheads.
    When the third cord was done and a fourth grown to their waists, his father held up a hand.
    "Let's rest and have a drink."
    He set a water bucket onto a plank nailed to the stumps of two trees that served as a bench in front of the cottage, then filled a ladle and offered it to his son.
    Nathaniel declined, glaring at his father instead.
    "Why won't you tell me about a teaching? I need to know what's happening to Thomas."
    His father withdrew the ladle and took a drink himself, then returned it to its hook.
    "We've discussed this, Nathaniel."
    "When will he come home? It's already ten days."
    "It can vary. It might take another week or more."
    "But it's almost festival."
    "It's not for us to rush the Temple of Light."
    "Will he be all right?"
    "Yes. The Temple doesn't harm its children. You know that."
    "But you said it might change me if I were taken."
    "Change is different than harm. Yes, he'll probably be changed."
    "In what way?"
    His father's shoulders slumped. "I told you. After teachings, people become more serious for a time and sadder too. The Temple will show the darkness in ways Thomas could never have imagined. Some need time to recover, as in mourning. They may be distant, even with friends. But as far as permanent change, I can't say."
    Nathaniel studied the toe of his boot, which was doing its best to dig a hole in the ground. If he was old enough to have a teaching, he was old enough to know what it was.
    "Why are teachings so mysterious? They're not in any of the books and every time I ask, you avoid answering."
    His father sighed, then rested his hands on Nathaniel's shoulders. "I've told you all I can."
    Nathaniel felt an unfamiliar tremor. Fear. He'd never seen his father afraid before. He tried to lock eyes with him, but his father released his grip and went back to the woodpile.
    "Now hold out your arms. Once more like the last and we'll be done."
    Nathaniel opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, his father began loading him up with logs until he grunted under the weight.
    "Take these to the shed. If we hurry, we can be done by sunset."
    Nathaniel dumped his load on the ground with