Day 1. Early
afternoon. It was one of those days when the air was as still and
lifeless as the fish piled in the market.
There wasn't a trace of wind, and the only things that came through the
tiny window cut high in the mud-brick wall of the room that was my office as
well as my home were flies and mosquitoes and the occasional scorpion that
wandered up the side of the building.
What was good about such a day was that when you went outside there was
no wind to whip the dust in your face.
What was not good was, that without a breeze,
if you weren’t careful, the sun could cook your body like bread on a hot stone.
I
had a feeling that the old man was going to be trouble the moment he came into
my office, or the moment he appeared
there I should say, since I didn't actually see or hear him come in. He wasn’t angry, frightened or upset. People didn't come to see me unless they had
a problem―a
serious problem. Yet this guy was so
calm as to be almost serene. His
physical features were ordinary enough―an old man with long
white hair and a full, equally white beard that covered most of his face. Despite his obvious age, his eyes were bright
and piercing, and he stood tall and straight and refused my offer to be
seated. When he finally spoke, his
speech was formal and without a hint of accent.
The man could have been from as close as Larsa
or as far away as Nippur.
"One
of my children is missing and I want you to find him," he announced
without introducing himself. "He is
a shepherd, and he lives in the hills south of here, not far from the place
called Eden. His name is
Abel."
Eden, yeah, I'd heard of the place. It was about half a day's journey south, not
far from the village of Eridu. They say it
used to be a little garden-like village until a woman ripped off some special
fruit that belonged to the headman. Tried to blame it on a snake. The headman got pretty pissed
and kicked the woman and her husband out of the place. Supposedly no one lives
there anymore except the headman and some caretakers.
"You
said Abel lived in the hills?" I asked.
"That would be closer to Eridu than to Eden. The only
hills in this part of Sumer are just northwest of Eridu."
"You
speak truly,” my visitor replied.
"The home of Abel is in a tiny hamlet outside the village of Eridu, at the base of the hills, not far from the place
called Eden. I have heard
that you are very good at this sort of thing.
Everyone says that Shlem of Ur is the best at
finding lost people. I would do this
myself, but I prefer not to get involved at this time. I am very busy."
Sure
you could do it, I thought to myself.
Just spend all day traveling in the hot desert or roaming the stinking
city slums, talking to strangers, asking dangerous questions and getting nasty
stares and maybe even assaulted and pummeled in the bargain. Walk the open roads and the back alleys. Stalk the markets and taverns. Mingle with thieves and gossips, seek out the
cleaners of latrines, risk your life by questioning
enforcers. Sure, you could do it. Everyone thinks they could do my job, but few
actually have the skill or the stomach for it.
This guy didn't fool me. He
wasn't too busy. He didn't want to get
his hands dirty.
I
nodded agreeably. "Okay, you could
do it yourself, but you're too busy and so you want to hire me. That's fine.
Let's start with some information about you. Then we'll talk about your missing son."
"Who
I am is unimportant," my visitor said, although it was clear from his tone
that he was anything but unimportant.
"What is important is that you find my missing child.