Chapter 11

‘Yes, Simon. I went out into the country to hear him. I would have done so sooner; but I feared you might be offended. Esther wanted me to go. He is indeed a wonderful man!’

They strolled toward the house.

‘You were surprised, I think,’ said Simon, ‘that I should have anything to do with him.’

‘Yes—I was surprised.’ She waited for him to explain how it had happened, but Simon said no more until they had sat down in the little parlour. Hannah’s eyes were bright with expectation.

Impulsively—for he had not planned to confide any of his recent experiences—Simon began, haltingly at first, to tell her how he had been forced to abandon his prejudices and admit the miraculous power of the strange young man from Nazareth. He told Hannah about the blind baby. He told her how Jesus had summoned him, in the early morning, to be his friend and helper. It was a moving story, and when he had ended it Hannah’s eyes were full of tears. There was a long silence.

‘But—it is not easy, Hannah,’ murmured Simon, shaking his head. ‘Following Jesus is not easy.’

‘Tell me,’ she entreated softly.

With averted eyes, he slowly unburdened himself of the disappointments and humiliations he had suffered. No—following Jesus, he repeated, was not easy. He reviewed the events of the day at Jairus’ mansion; the exaltation he had felt when Jesus had looked to him to control that dripping, selfish mob of curiosity-seekers; the strange sense of power that had come to him; and the dismaying rebuff that had sent him plodding off alone through the mud, plainly aware that—after all—he was nobody!

Hannah’s eyes lighted with sudden understanding.

‘Simon!’ she exclaimed. ‘Has it not occurred to you that Jesus may be wanting you for some great service? Maybe he is training you for it!…You know, the way they train soldiers—to endure hardship—and learn to obey—and ask no questions! The commander gives them heavy packs to carry—and long marches—and they are not told where they are going or why!’

For a long time Simon sat moodily staring out of the window before attempting a reply.

‘I should have been much happier, Hannah, if I had never met him. I was quite contented to be—just a fisherman. Now, I don’t know who—or what—I am!’

‘Why don’t you go out with your fleet for a few days—and get this all off your mind?’

‘I don’t even want to do that!’ rumbled Simon dejectedly. ‘That’s part of the trouble, Hannah. Even my ships mean nothing to me—any more… I am this man’s captive!… What is to become of me, I do not know.’

‘You are tired and hungry,’ said Hannah gently. ‘I shall get your supper ready. You will feel better when you have eaten—and rested…Come—and gather a few eggs for me.’

Willing to be diverted, Simon followed her to the kitchen, caught up a small basket, and started out toward the chicken-yard, pausing at the little feed-room in the storage shed for a basin of corn. The hens fluttered about his feet, dabbing at the grain. They were unafraid, untroubled. Nothing ailed their world. Simon envied them.

Hannah stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him with brooding eyes. Her intuition told her that their quiet, uneventful life together had come to an end. Simon, she felt, would never be the same again.