David Towsey
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The soldier woke spluttering and coughing, his body lurched. His throat was on fire. There was no air, only ash.
Time passed, and the coughing subsided. His eyes felt gritty. Blinking was an effort; he could feel sand scratching on his eyelids.
He tried to move, but nothing happened. He was lying down. Darkness surrounded him. He couldn't hear anything, not even the sound of his own breathing. His mouth was dry and tasteless.
Pain seared across his forehead, and he cried out, as a thousand fingers pressed behind his eyes. It was almost too perfect a sensation, no longer registering as pain, but as something deliberate and essential. A pool of white washed into his vision, like oil thrown onto water, slowly covering the surface. He began to panic. The white was blinding. He screamed, not a word, but a childhood fear.
*
“Learning. What is it we mean by learning?” the Pastor threw his arms wide.
Samuel wanted to answer, but was too scared. He would probably be wrong.
“Is it numbers and letters?” the Pastor asked.
Samuel shook his head.
“And what is wisdom? Or knowledge? Is it how to plough a field, or knit a hat? The Good Book says the fear of the Lord, the fear I say, is the beginning of wisdom. Open yourselves to the fear, and what follows is his love.”
Samuel was following the words. They made sense. He was always afraid of God; of being watched. But he would find love, in spite of what God saw.
“We meddled. We poked and searched and then we ate from the tree. Fearless. The Good Lord saw our lack of fear and punished us as only He could.”
Samuel had questions, many questions. They sat, like the other people in the church, on the edge of his awareness. The Pastor held his complete attention.
“He took it away. He took away the only thing mankind had. He took away paradise.”
Silence dropped on the hard wooden benches.
“This, our Barkley taught, was the First Fall. Exiled from paradise. Lost to walk a harsh world. But, we did not learn.
“Again we forgot our fear, children, we forgot our fear. Once more we meddled.” The Pastor stepped in front of the altar, the Good Book thrust at the congregation. “A thousand years ago we poked and searched.
“And once more He took away paradise,” the Pastor cried.
Gasps rang around the church.