The First Stone- Part Ii
He cleared the pebbles from around them
And then, with his finger
He started making marks in the sand
The crowd hushed
Not a sound could be heard
What was he writing?
He could stand in no longer
He pushed his way to the front of the crowd
His knuckles white against the stone
That he still carried
The stone that could bring a swift death
If aimed right
He intended to throw the first stone
To put her out of her misery
It was the right thing to do
The honorable thing
What he saw there in the swirls of sand
Made the color drain from his face
Did others see his name there?
The man who had lead her into sin
Who had ravished her?
Who had trapped her?
Did they see his sin there
Written plainly in the sand?
He looked around
Terrified
Knowing that he would be stoned
Then he heard the Rabbi speak
What was that he heard in his voice
Reproach?
Anger?
Hate?
No…it was something else
Only later would he be able
To give it a name…
Disappointed love
“Whoever is without sin,
Let him cast the first stone.”
The rabbi turned his face
And look into his eyes
Into his heart
A knowing look
A pained look
He heard the thundering of a myriad stones
Falling to the ground
As the crowd turned to make
A hasty retreat
Everyone’s face masked in guilt
And he ran away
Mingling with the crowd
But instead of going home
He dashed behind an outcropping of rocks
He couldn't tear himself away
Not knowing
What would happen to her
And so he waited
The stone still in his hand
Heavy with his anger, his shame, his guilt
He fixed his eyes on the rabbi
As he saw him turn to her
She lay trembling
Her ears covered
Her body taut with the expectation
Of the impact of that first stone
He extended his work worn hands to her chin,
Gently lifting her face to him
His thumb wiped her tears
And his hand cupped her face
As he gently asked,
“Woman, where are your accusers?”
Liked a trapped animal
She looked around
Fear in her eyes
Her face streaked with dirt and tears
Her lips quivering…
In voice filled with wonder she stuttered
“They are…they are gone, master.”
He raised her to his feet
As she clutched at his prayer shawl
Frantically trying to bring some
Honor into her word of shame
The Rabbi quickly took off his outer garment
And covered her
As he said,
“Neither do I condemn you.
Go, and sin no more.”
His prayer shawl, covered with his filth, with blood and dirt
Fluttered to the ground.
Besides the quiet sound of her grateful weeping
The only other sound that broke the
The profound silence of the courtyard
Was the loud thud of the fallen stone
The first stone.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
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