The Last Sin Eater (14 page)

“Yet God had a plan, even from the beginning of time. He knew all that would happen, and he knew how to make the way for man to return to him. For man can do nothing for himself. Yet with God all things are possible.”

He paused briefly, then rose, pacing. After a while, he came back and hunkered down. “Far from here is a place where civili- zation began, and it is called Judea. One thousand, eight hundred and fifty years ago, in the days of evil King Herod, God sent his angel Gabriel to a city near the Sea of Galilee called Nazareth to a virgin girl set to wed a man named Joseph. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel told her not to fear for God favored her. The Holy Spirit would come upon her and give her a child, and she was to name him Jesus.”

I looked at him, eyes wide. “I’ve heard of Jesus.”

“What have you heard?”

“My granny said Jesus was betrayed and nailed up on a cross to die.”

“And?”

“He rose up from the grave and went to heaven where he sits at the right hand of God. And he’ll come back on the last day and judge us all.”

“Did she teach you anything else?”

“She said we must do as much good as we can while we breathe, for we’ll all be judged by how we’ve lived. If we do enow, when Jesus comes back, he might take us to heaven.”

“And ye think people can do enough good to undo the evil done?”

I thought of Elen. I thought of dozens of wicked things I’d thought and done before that terrible, fateful day, and I thought of the dozens of sins I’d committed since then. And I knew. Nothing—absolutely nothing—would be enough to undo the sins on my soul. Bowing my head, I put my face in my hands and cried.

“Ah, child, you are heavy burdened.”

“There is no hope. Not for me.”

“Do not weep, child. God
is
your hope. He did not send Jesus to condemn the world. He sent him so that all who believe in him might be saved and have eternal life.”

“But I do believe! I do! And I’m not saved.”

“You believe Jesus lived. You believe he was crucified and went to heaven. Hear the word of the Lord. Jesus was born of a woman, became strong in spirit, performed miracles, and never sinned. Not once in thought or deed did Jesus disobey God the Father for he was God the Son incarnate. He went willingly to the cross to die and took all our sins upon himself.”

“Oh!” Something tight within me flowered. Could it be I understood rightly? “You mean he’s just like our sin eater!”

“Your what?”

“The sin eater. He comes after people die, and he eats the bread and drinks the wine and takes all their sins upon himself so that they can rest in peace.”

“And you believe this?”

“Everybody believes. Well, almost everybody. I don’t know anymore what I believe. I went to him and asked him to take my sins away. And he tried.”

“No man can take away your sins. Only God.”

“But Granny said God canna even look on sin. That’s why we’ve got to have the sin eater.”

“And how did he come to be?”

“I reckon he was chosen.”

“How?”

“I don’t rightly know, sir.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know. Miz Elda said as soon as he was made the sin eater, he had to leave his family and live off by himself, and nobody was ever to speak his name aloud again. And no one’s to look at him when he comes down to eat up the sins.”

“And what becomes of him?”

“I reckon when he dies, he takes all the sins with him to hell.”

The man of God lifted his head and looked to the heavens. “And one of the enemies of Jesus named Caiaphas, being the high priest, said, ‘It is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not.’”

“That’s the way of it, sir. Is it wrong?”

“It is wrong, and you must have a care for the man himself.”

“I do, sir. He was kind to me and has cared for us.”

“And he’s been deceived and sorely used. If you’ve come for the truth, child, hear and receive it. Only Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, can take away sins. This man you call the sin eater is being used by Satan to stand in the way of truth. He is a scapegoat. He has no power in and of himself for any good thing.”

Sorrow filled me until I thought I would perish of it. How could I tell the sin eater this without grieving his heart to death?

The rosy hint of dawn was on the horizon, and I knew I must go before Papa or Iwan awakened and I was missed. I rose, hands clasped tightly. “Thank ye kindly for speaking with me, sir.”

“I am not finished speaking with you, child.”

“If I dunna go now, I’ll be missed and there’ll be trouble. Can I come back?”

“I will stay here until God tells me otherwise. But don’t wait long. We’ve not much time left.”

I started toward the river and paused to look back. “Sir, I must warn ye. There are some who would see you dead and gone.”

“The Lord is my strength and shield.”

Feeling foolish, I remembered the lightning and reckoned God could take care of him if he wanted.

The man of God sat watching me as I waded back across the river. Safely on the other side, I looked back and raised my hand. When he raised his hand in response, I felt a tiny spark of hope. Ducking into the forest, I raced for home.

T W E L V E

A strange excitement filled me. I could not get out of my head what the man of God had told me. I was bursting to talk about it all with Miz Elda, but Mama was of a mind to keep me about the home place all day. When I said I was well enough to be up and about, she said I did look better and sent me to gather eggs and pick peas to snap on the front porch. I worked quickly, eager to be away. Oh, how I yearned to talk over what the man of God had told me, but I dared not speak a word of it to Mama. She’d only tell Papa, and then I’d likely spend the rest of my days locked in the woodshed for going against the Kai.

When the peas was all snapped, Mama handed me the broom and set me to sweeping out the house and sweeping off the porch. Finishing that, she called me to help her with the wash. She was slow and thorough in all she did, so slow and thorough I was tensed up through and through. I felt so tied up inside that I feared something might spring loose.

“Ye’re fidgeting worse than a dog with fleas,” Mama said, scrubbing one of Papa’s shirts against the washboard. I tried to stand still, but it was near impossible.

Mama paused and straightened, wiping some curling strands of dark hair back from her sweat-beaded forehead. “Ye do it awhile.” She stepped aside, her eyes barely brushing mine. She watched me from a few feet away. “Ye used to chatter like a magpie. Now ye say nary a thing from morning ’til night.”

It was a strange thing for her to say to me, considering her long silences. She only spoke to me to tell me what to do, never wanting a peek at my thoughts.

“Gervase told me ye’ve been spending time with Miz Elda.” She looked away toward the valley.

Nervous and perplexed, I glanced at Mama, a little afraid of what shemight be thinking.Why was she talking to me now after so many long months of silence? Why was she asking questions? I wished she’d look at me, look straight into my eyes and hold still long enough for me to get a feel of what it was she was feeling and trying to say.

She sighed. “Reckon ye miss Granny.”

I did, indeed, but I ached to tell Mama I missed
her
more. My eyes pricked with tears. I had missed Mama long before the fateful day her last small bit of love for me had died.

Mama did look my way then. She met my gaze, but in an instant hers skittered away, dropping and holding to my idle hands. “Dunna forget to scrub the collar.”

Dipping Papa’s shirt in the washtub, I rubbed hard against the metal board, trying to scrub away the pain in my chest. I must be terrible indeed for Mama to wince so. She walked a few feet away and stood in the shade, face averted. Once she raised her hand and brushed her cheek. I knew she was crying again. Silent tears for Elen, for Granny, for those she’d loved and lost.

Fagan came by our place next day. Iwan met him as he came up the hill and talked with him a short while. Then Fagan went off toward home again, and Iwan went back to work. I was helping Mama peel and core apples and cut them into quarters to fill a ten-gallon wooden tub for bleaching with sulfur. When Iwan came up to the house for nooning, he didn’t say anything about Fagan’s visit, not until I asked straight-out why he’d come by.

Iwan shrugged. “Dinna say.” He tore off a hunk of bread and dipped it into his bowl of stew. “Reckon he wanted to go hunting, but I dinna have time today.” He ate his bread. “Said Miz Elda was asking about ye though.”

“What about her?” Papa said, brows coming down.

“Said she hadn’t seen Cadi in days and wondered if summat was wrong with her.”

I looked at Mama. “Can I go for a visit, Mama? Please.”

“Ask your father,” she said tonelessly, picking at her food but not eating much.

“Papa?”

He looked at me hard and long, though what he was searching for I could not even guess. “Ye can go to Miz Elda’s and nowhere else. And be back home before sundown. Hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” I cleared my dishes and lit out the door like a mouse avoiding a cat’s stare. I ran the whole way to Miz Elda’s cabin and found her sitting and rocking on her front porch.

She took her pipe of rabbit tobacco out of her mouth. “Thought ye got lost on Dead Man’s Mountain.”

“Sick.” Panting hard, I waited for my lungs to stop burning. “Saw him.”

“Did he take away your sins?”

I shook my head. Still too out of breath to speak, I gestured.

“What’re ye pointing to the valley fer?”

“Saw
him.”

“Down there? The Kai hears he’s coming down from his mountain and there’ll be hell to pay. Settle down, child. I don’t know what ye’re trying to tell me. Now go on down to the crik and get yourself a drink of water. Ye ain’t making a lick of sense.”

Dropping on my knees beside her stream, I splashed water on my heated face and cupped more in my hands to drink. I had run so hard I was afraid I would lose what I ate. I waited a few minutes until my wind was back and my stomach settled, then hastened back. “The sin eater made me promise him I’d do whatever he asked even if he couldn’t eat my sins and take ’em away.”

“And he dinna?”

“He tried, Miz Elda. He tried real hard. He ate the bread ye gave me and drank the wine and said all the right words. And I felt the worse for it.”

“Worse?”

“All I could think about was him and how sad he sounded and what I was asking him to do for me. And it dinna work. It was all for naught.”

“Ye said he made ye promise to do summat for him whatever happened.”

“He told me to hear the word of the Lord from the man of God camped down in the valley and come back and tell him what was said.”

“And ye went?”

“I went. Night before last. I thought the man’d strike me down with lightning sure, but he let me come across and sit with him. And now, I don’t know what I’m going to tell the sin eater.”

“Tell him what you was told.”

“I can’t, Miz Elda! It’ll hurt his feelings summat fierce.”

“Why?”

“’Cause that man of God says the sin eater ain’t got no power to take away sins. Fact is, he’s standing in the way of God. He called him a scapegoat and said Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God who takes away sins, and there ain’t no other who can do it. He said he had more to tell me, but I had to get home before daybreak or get tanned and locked up ’til I’m old as you.”

“Are ye going back and hear the rest?”

“Soon as I can. Only Mama is keeping me so busy doing chores, I ain’t got time to go nowhere.”

“Ye’re here, ain’t ye?”

“Papa said I could come, but I have to be back before sundown. That don’t give me much time. I can’t go out there and hear the word of God in daylight. If someone sees me, the Kai will hear and that man’ll get himself shot dead.”

“Well, then, ye go on back home and tell yer pa ye’re needed by an old woman who’s been feeling poorly of late.”

“Are you?” I looked her over, worried. She didn’t look no worse than usual.

“Quit looking at me like I had one foot in the grave. Go on home and ask yer mama if ye can stay a few nights with me. Tell her I’m needing help and would be gratified if she’d loan ye to me for a few days. That oughta give ye time to hear the whole piece that man’s got to say. Ye reckon they’ll have any problems with that?”

“Mama won’t care. It’s always Papa wanting to know what I’m doing and where I’ve been. And I think the only reason he’s interested is ’cause he thinks I’m keeping company with a taint.”

Miz Elda gave me a droll look, her pipe clenched between her teeth. “Now what would make him think a crazy thing like that?” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Quit yer bellyaching and git on home and ask.”

“They’ll likely tell me to fetch Gervase Odara for ye.”

“Tell ’em I already seen her and been taking her cures, but I crave a bit of company and someone to fetch and carry for me. Don’t give me that look, child. Say it exactly like I tell ye, and if yer pa wants to come take a look for himself, let him come.”

“He’ll see ye looking healthy and ornery as ever.”

“Think so?” Miz Elda took her pipe from her mouth, sagged in her rocker, and let her mouth hang open and her eyelids droop. She looked about as bad as a body could get without being put in a grave. When I giggled, she straightened up in her rocker and glowered at me same as always. “Now, go on, afore I come to my senses and tell ye to stand wide and clear of that prophet down there.”

Papa did go over and talk with Miz Elda. He left me home while he was about it, and it was near dusk when he came back. Mama was raking coals off of the Dutch oven when he came in. “Miz Elda don’t look so good and sounds even worse. The poor ol’ soul ain’t long for this world.”

“Ain’t surprising.” Mama hooked the handle and dragged the oven onto the hearthstones. As she lifted the lid, the rich aroma of venison stew filled the cabin while I set the table.

“After supper, Iwan’ll walk Cadi over.”

“Thank ye, Papa!” I said, excited and wishing I was on my way already.

Mama glanced from me to him. “What good’s Cadi gonna be to that sick old lady?”

“Miz Elda likes her company. Says she takes pleasure in listening to her chatter. Says it’s been a long time since she’s had children around, her own going over themountain the way they did.”

Mama straightened, her hands at her sides. “She sent ’em away.”

“So’s they’d have a better life.”

“And she ain’t never heard from ’em since. Is that for the best?”

Papa leaned toward her slightly, like a bull ready to butt horns. “Reckon Elda Kendric knew to put her children’s needs above her own wants.” At Mama’s stricken look, he turned his back on her and looked at me. “Go on out and get washed up, Cadi. And fetch your brother for supper.”

“Wait, Cadi,” Mama said sternly. “Who’ll do her chores while she’s gone?”

“I told ye to go on,” Papa said to me. “Now go!”

At his tone, I did as I was told. But before I was out the door I heard him turn back to Mama and snarl, “Leave off making mourning jewelry out of Granny’s hair and weaving that blanket in memory of Elen, and I reckon ye’ll have
plenty
of time.”

I found Iwan in the barn working over a harness.

“Papa wants us to wash up for supper.”

“Is that all? Ye look like ye had summat important to tell me.”

“I’m gonna be staying with Miz Elda for a while.”

“How long a while?”

“Couple of days, maybe more.”

“Ye don’t look unhappy about it,” he said with a questioning frown.

“I don’t mind.” I wanted to tell him why, but knew he’d feel obliged to tell Papa. It wasn’t in Iwan’s nature to go against him in anything. And he’d never in his life consider bucking the Kai. If I told Iwan I’d been down to hear the man of God and was going again so’s I could carry what I learned to the sin eater, he’d make certain I never made it out of the yard. “She’s a nice old woman.”

He laughed. “Nice! I hear Miz Elda’s as cantankerous as a hedgehog.”

“Only when her bones’re aching. Besides, she was Granny’s dear friend.”

“She was that.”

Mama and Papa didn’t say a word to each other through supper. “Take some smoked venison with ye,” Papa told Iwan, “and a few jars of preserves. Miz Elda ain’t been well enow to do much for herself.”

“If it’s all right, Pa, I’ll go by Cluny’s on the way home,” Iwan said. “Moon’s full enow tonight to see my way home.”

Papa smiled knowingly. “Do that. She’s a pretty little gal and growing up fast. Take the gun with ye. Ye might run into the painter that’s been killing sheep.”

The evening was filled with frog song and fireflies dancing. Iwan walked cautious, the gun tucked secure under his arm, barrel down, the hound sniffing along the trail ahead of us.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked me with a wry glance.

I slowed my pace, wishing heartily he’d hurry his. “Just thought ye’d want to get on to Cluny’s soon as ye could.”

“Cluny ain’t going nowhere. Her pa never lets her go much beyond the porch after the sundown anyway.”

I liked Cluny better than any of the other girls in the highlands. Everyone had their own ideas about what happened to Elen and took pleasure in discussing it among themselves, especially if I was around. Cluny was the only one who treated me same as before. “Ye going to marry her someday, Iwan?”

“Dunno.”

“She’ll say yes.”

“What makes ye so sure?”

“Granny said a girl blushes when a boy she loves comes close, and Cluny blushes every time ye’re anywhere near her.”

He grinned at me. “Ye mean like ye do whenever Fagan comes round.”

“I do
not!”

He laughed. “Don’t get all het up! And come on back here and walk with me. I was only teasing.”

Face hot, I fell into step beside him again. As we crossed the highland meadow together, he grew more serious. “What’s going on between you and that old woman anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“I can always tell when ye’re lying, Cadi.”

“She lets me talk is all.”

“Talk about what?”

“Just things.”

“What sort of things?” He was pressing harder than usual. Had Papa put him up to it?

“Whatever comes to mind,” I said, hoping he would be satisfied with that.

“Ye used to talk to me about things.”