2010 HSCC 23rd Day: The Clerk's Tale

Welcome to the 23rd day of the 2010 Harbor Street Christmas Celebration! I hope you've enjoyed this month of posts as much as I've enjoyed sharing them with you. Today we'll be hearing another Tale from Bethlehem. This is the latest one. I hope you enjoy it!

Tales from Bethlehem:
The Clerk's Tale

By Stephen B. Bagley

I was greasing a paving stone with bear fat when Glorick Translated to me. I didn’t acknowledge him. First, I checked to see if any humans had noticed his sudden appearance. If so, my lack of surprise would go far in convincing them that Glorick had simply walked up without them noticing him. Glorick rarely spent time directly interacting with humans. He was inclined to forget what was common for us was uncommon for them.

Fortunately humans are unobservant at the best of times, and today was not best for the people of Bethlehem. The small town stretched at its seams as former residents returned to be taxed according to the decree of Augustus Caesar. None noticed Glorick’s arrival. For that matter, only a few had noticed me in the shadows of the alley by Keloe’s Inn, and they soon forgot.

“I have faith in you,” he finally said.

I straightened and wiped my hands on an old rag. “Thank you,” I said, but I did not think he had Translated from the Realm to tell me of his faith in me.

“I do not doubt Him,” Glorick said. “I have never doubted Him or His choices.” He fell silent.

I rubbed the back of my human form. It was noon, and my body felt the need for refreshment. Too bad coffee wouldn’t be available for a couple more millennia.

“Is the choir ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said absently. Obviously he had more on his mind, but Glorick could not be hurried. He was one of the lesser of the Great, but Great nonetheless, and I was not. At best, I was a clerk in the Host. Naturally that was not what I was, but my humanity now influenced me. That description was close enough.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Nearly,” I said. “I must move new straw into the manger.”

He looked at me. “That was not in the plan.”

“No,” I said. “But it is a good thing. I will also remove any thistles or thorns in it.” Silence again.

“You have always done what was asked of you with precision,” Glorick said abruptly. “And you have learned and accepted what wisdom I can share with grace and forbearance. I recognize you have been a wise steward of the Gifts imparted to you.” He paused, obviously struggling to articulate his words in this limited human language.

Finally it dawned on me. He was worried about me! Our human forms carry with them many things, not the least is the full range of emotions, good and bad.

I bowed my head. “Your words mean much to me,” I said. “You lift me up when I myself have wondered why I was Chosen for this Task.” I raised my head. “I am less than the lesser.”

“He does not think such,” Glorick said. “Or He would not give the protection of His Son unto you.”

Finally I asked the question that had burned in me since I had received this Task from Gabriel. “Why was I Chosen? I have not the skills of Michael or Ariel or yourself.”

“Do you doubt Him?” Glorick asked sternly.

“No,” I said with more certainty than I felt.

“Then you were Chosen for this Task because you are suited to it,” Glorick said. His face softened. “Remember He is fond of using the weak to confound the mighty. Do not doubt this.”

I slowly nodded. If I truly trusted Him, then I had to believe I was part of His plan. Trust is as trust does, paraphrasing one of my favorite human quotes.

Glorick surprised me then. He reached out and grasped my shoulder, using human touch to reassure me. Tears sprang to my all-too-mortal eyes. He smiled at me and Translated away.

I replaced the old fodder in the manger with fresh, clean straw and did the same with the pile outside. I cleaned the lantern and trimmed the wick. I moved the insects and vermin away. I calmed the animals who could sense the tremendous change approaching the world. I moved a cart of animal dung near the inn and weakened its axle. I loosed three tiles on inn’s roof.

And I waited for Herod’s assassin to arrive.

The day became night; angels sang in the hills; wise men followed a glorious star; a babe’s cry sounded in the cold clear night. Creation changed. Still I waited.

She arrived before the assassin did. I smelled her first, the odor of old blood and bitterness. I turned. She wore the guise of one of Herod’s many women. She was beautiful poison, one of the Great of the Fallen.

“You?” she said contemptuously. “One such as you was sent to oppose me?”

I did not rise to her question. The Fallen prey upon anger.

Behind her, I saw the assassin creep along the street.

“He has killed many men,” she said. “I convinced Herod to send this killer into the streets tonight in case those so-called wise men fail us.” She spat to the side. “He will slay all newborns he can find. And there in a manger he will end this before it is begun. What do you think of that?”

I smiled. “I do not doubt Him or His ways.”

“The greatest mistake of the Host is its blind loyalty!”

“The greatest failure of the Fallen was its lack thereof.”

The dark-clothed assassin reached the side of the inn.

“Soon,” she breathed. “Soon!”

The assassin stepped forward. His foot slipped on the paving stone, his hand reached out and grasped the cart, its wheel gave away, he fell down, the cart’s contents emptying on him. The tongue of the cart flew up and hit the eave of the inn. The assassin broke free of his noxious covering. He stood just as the roof tiles fell, one after another, onto his head. He collapsed.

“No!” she hissed. “No!” Her delicate fingers lengthened into black talons. “I will end you and the babe now!” Her skin writhed as she sloughed away her humanity.

I didn’t move, but I let my faith in Him, my love for Him, and my trust in Him shine through my eyes.

“You could try,” I said. “You will not survive the attempt.”

She took a step toward me. I waited.

“You’ve planned for this,” she said.

I remained silent.

She looked around, her lips curling in disgust. “There will be another time.” She folded in on herself and was gone.

I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I felt another presence behind me.

“Glorick,” I said. “Thank you.”

He stepped out of the shadows. He held a huge sword.

“I was not needed,” he said. “Forgive me for doubting you.” He paused for a moment and then looked at me. “Did you plan for one of the Fallen?”

“I will next time.”

He laughed. “Well done, Micah. Well done.”

We drew close and watched as wise men and shepherds worshipped our newly born King.

Copyright 2010 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying without express written permission from the publisher and the author.

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See you tomorrow!

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