daughter of CAIN

There was a unique valley inhabited by a nomadic clan who had come upon the site after years of wandering the desert plains. A village was established and over the years the small group had developed into a sizable population. This valley, centrally located between two great rivers, the Tigris and Euphrates, was remote and until the clan arrived had never before witnessed the hand of mankind. Over the ages, the valley’s rich soil had developed a variety of life. There were stands of tall trees, green grasses and numerous species of wildlife. A stream supplied by underground springs wound its way through the length of the valley.

Odom and Esha, an aged couple who first fathered the clan and were the first to settle the valley, had since been banished from the village and left several miles outside the village to survive on their own. They were exiled because of a rumored misdeed, a terrible wrong they were believed to have committed sometime in the distant past. Over the years, suspicion, mingled with fear magnified many times over, had finally led the present generation to believe that the couple was cursed. For fear the curse might eventually fall upon the inhabitants of the village, Odom and Esha were considered a threat and at present few had anything to do with them.

Odom, stooped from years of hard labor under an ever present and unforgiving sun, had painstakingly cleared a piece of land near the foothills, planted crops and built a log hut for he and his wife, all by himself.

It was late evening; the eastern sky was alive with a golden haze from the sinking sun. A warm breeze drifted across the land scenting the air with the smell of sweet grasses and freshly plowed earth. The old couple, seated peacefully at the rear of their hut, enjoyed the quiet of the day’s end; their minds scarcely attuned to anything outside themselves.

This evening was not unlike most evenings. Odom had seated himself comfortably on a wooden stool so that he could keep a watchful eye on his prized ox. The cow’s yield of milk was coming full and he was being especially attentive to her, as would a woman caring for a newborn child. Odom kept the cow tied securely to a tree by a length of woven cord, allowing her grazing room, but only enough so as not to allow her to overfeed.

The ox provided fresh milk to drink that was a welcome addition to an ordinary bland diet. When the milk was left standing overnight, rich cream rose to the top, and Esha had learned a new recipe that was a favorite of her husband’s, a blend of the cream with hazelnuts and a selection of dried herbs, used mainly as a topping for her bread cakes.

Odom, struggling to keep his head erect, had nearly dozed off when suddenly he was awakened by his wife.

“Look, Odom!” she cried, grabbing him by the arm and shaking it. “Over there…at the marsh, someone’s coming across our field.”

Odom struggled to his feet, blinked his eyes once, and then shuffled unsteadily from the stool to the edge of the porch.

“Someone’s in trouble…” he muttered. He stepped off the porch and stood for a moment, scratching his head and pulling at his stubbed beard. “Guess it’s best I go out and see if I can be of help.”

Esha grabbed hold of his arm and shook it again firmly. “You watch your step, old man. No one of ours would be coming out from that swamp…not at this time of night.”

The old man raised his eyes in thought. “Could be a runaway,” he said with a shrug. He retrieved a walking stave, crossed the porch and lumbered out across the field. When he was within a stone’s throw of the stranger he stopped short and yelled, “Can I be of any help?”

The stranger looked up, and then nodded affirmatively.

Odom moved a little closer, and the closer he got the more suspicious he became, for the looks of the man were like none he had ever come across. His hair hung in ringlets hitting his shoulders and then continued all the way down to his waist, his clothes were sodden wet, his face soaked with perspiration. The outfit he was wearing was covered with swamp grass, so much so that old Odom could hardly tell for sure if the stranger was clothed or naked beneath it all. However, what spooked the old man most were the man’s eyes. Deep set they were, so deep they looked to be empty holes. Man…maybe? Or woman? He couldn’t tell for sure. Surely it was no kin of his. No, thought Odom, he’s not from these parts and not one of ours that’s for sure.

After an uncomfortable pause, the stranger stepped forward and, in a rather peculiarly high-pitched voice asked, “Could you spare a man a drink of water?”