our way out. There’s no sense in coming burdened into the temple.”
Bending to place both mine and Hesba’s jar beside Phaena’s, I moved anxiously into Hesba’s shadow – eyes glancing to either side of the temple and back over my shoulder to check all the various roads branching out from the temple. In seeing no familiar faces, or any eyes glowering darkly back in my direction, I breathed a quick sigh of relief and rushed up the remaining steps to the atrium, where there my shoulders began to relax as we moved inside.
Following Hesba’s lead, Phaena and I removed our dusty sandals just outside the door before entering the inner space. Immediately the aroma of incense and burning animal fat filled my nostrils. Though I was accustomed to strong scents, like the heavy perfume my mother soaked herself in nightly, I could see from the corner of my eye that Phaena was easily overwhelmed – scrunching her nose in distaste at the various strong odors. Smiling sideways, I distanced myself from both of them now that we were safely indoors. With a mere nod of his head one of the temple priests acknowledged our presence, pausing only briefly from his work sweeping up the ashes of a recent burnt offering.
Simultaneously we each found a spot a short ways away from one other and from the few other worshipers there that night – bending to the floor to whisper our individual thanks and prayers. The stone pavement felt cold as I dropped to my knees. Hesitating to look at the profile of Ashur, ever motionless in his deity, I closed my eyes instead and focused my thoughts. Often when I began to pray, my mother came to mind first – perhaps out of some sort of obedient mindfulness of her, though I seldom knew what to ask for on her behalf. Asking for the usual sort of thinks such as money and health became too monotonous for me, and if I thought too long on her, I eventually became ashamed to even murmur her name in such a place. Closing my eyes tight I bowed my head as if changing my position would give me an idea of what I was supposed to ask for. As my thoughts drifted aimlessly, I began to question whether or not I was worthy enough to even occupy the temple myself, let alone pray for my mother. Did the others temple guests not think it as well? If it hadn’t been for Hesba’s reassuring warmth which nourished me daily, I should not have visited the temple past the age of ten. I would have kept to the lower districts – instead frequenting the small street shrines along the roads to make my measly offerings and halfhearted prayers.
Sensing it useless, I opened my eyes – slowly tracing one of the interior columns with my gaze from its base all the way up to the plaster ceiling. There was nothing left for me to do. The silence of the chamber had succeeded in suffocating my thoughts. Turning slightly, I rested my eyes on Phaena’s petite figure, respectfully bowed a short ways away from me. She was a perfect match for such a space, graceful in look and dignified in manner. I knew I was out of place without being able to see myself – mostly because of the way I felt. Though no one stared at me, questioning whether or not I should be there, my eyes would always itch to check – to search the room for those disdainful expressions, like the ones marring so many of my earliest memories. I almost felt as if my mother were kneeling beside me, muttering her prayers loud enough so that others could hear. I could sense their eyes scorch my back, I could smell my flesh singe – the scent curling up in the air in smoky wafts. I was scarce better off than one of the animals lying helpless on the temple alter, waiting to be sacrificed.
Sensing my heartbeat growing rapid, I fought to quiet my thoughts – reminding myself my mother wasn’t actually there. She was far away – behind closed doors. No one could see her – see what she wore, how she lay or whom with. I sensed my body beginning to sway, my hands reaching down to the floor to steady myself – knowing the truth that I should be out of sight as well. I should have stayed behind closed doors – at the back of the kitchen behind our warm stove. What was I doing, kneeling before the cold face of Ashur – having slipped into his house like a thief, as if I would go unnoticed?
Ahead I watched Hesba rise from the floor, turning either way as she looked for us. She had probably been praying for her husband. Spying Phaena, she motioned for her to do the same. Rising silently, I moved to join them. We had been there quite some while, yet I had spent my time once more absorbed in self-pity instead of worship and prayer – plagued by constant anxiety. Lips sealed like stone, I trailed behind them out of the temple and into the warm night air, slipping wordless into my sandals before exiting the atrium. It felt good to be outside, my chest at once beginning to loosen – filling easier as we made our way down the steps.
“What a good son to come and find his mother,” exclaimed Hesba.
Startled, my eyes rose. Too distracted for me to watch where my next step would be, my feet tripped just as I tried to reach the lowest temple step. I ended up grasping Phaena to keep from falling, who pulled away in annoyance at my messing up her tunic.
Waiting at the foot of the steps stood Aeros, holding both mine and Hesba’s water jars in his arms. At seeing us his face came alive, his eyes glancing first to his mother, but then, much to my embarrassment, moving quickly to meet mine. By the time I regained my balance Hesba had already joined him, rising on her toes to kiss her son’s brow before turning happily to wave at Phaena and me to hurry.
“I told you to meet us at the well, Aeros. You needn’t have come all the way to the temple – not when you worked as hard as you did for me today.”
“It’s no trouble,” he dismissed, shrugging his shoulders, “The air is much cooler outside than in the house, and you know I enjoy walking.”
Smiling, Hesba released him.
From the direction his eyes strayed I could tell he was intent on speaking with me. With difficultly he shifted the weight of both jars, waiting patiently for me to descend fully before approaching.
“Well. You could have offered to take your sister’s as well,” interjected Phaena, abruptly referencing her own jar in annoyance.
“Why would I help you when a lady needs assistance?” quipped Aeros through the side of his mouth.
“Both his arms are full, Phaena, leave him alone,” interrupted Hesba.
“Well, you might have gone straight to get the water and take it back then,” continued Phaena, unremitting, “If you were really trying to be useful, that is.” Casting her lengthy hair behind her shoulder, she resituated her head covering and moved ahead.
“Didn’t know you knew the meaning of the word,” sparred Aeros.
“You should be grateful he’s come at all and can hoist the water up from the well for us, Phaena – you know this is your task. He’s done more than his share of work for the day,” spoke Hesba, annoyed by both her children now.
I was grateful for the rivalry between brother and sister as it lessened my uneasiness somewhat – enabling me to smile a little even as I moved after Phaena into the square. Hearing Phaena and Aeros bicker reminded me of our childhood – back when Aeros was younger and much less chivalrous, picking on us as we played games, or arguing with Phaena over childish absurdities.
“How are you, Ishtah?” he asked, once Hesba and Phaena had moved ahead of us a ways. “I see you so little.” His voice lowered in adding, “I would hate to think you’re avoiding me – though I don’t believe you would. How is your –” he shook his head slightly and cleared his throat. “How have you been getting on without me? We both know Phaena is a complete bore these days.”
Trying to decide what to do with my now unoccupied hands, I swallowed and looked away, pained somewhat by his attempts to skirt inquiring after my mother. It was custom to ask after someone’s family when greeting them, though Aeros knew me too well to risk asking about my mother. Although it was only out of consideration for me that he avoided the subject, I as usual resented the precautions he took.
“I’m doing well,” I replied, trying to sound natural – though I felt far from it. “And you – how is the harvest coming? Did you pull the ox today or push the plow? Phaena told me you sprained your wrist.” I had to remind myself to slow down my normally fast pace in o
rder to match his lingering steps. It was difficult to resist taking flight after standing so long in the open.
Seeming pleased I took interest, he laughed aloud.
“I wasn’t hurt too bad,” he assured. “The ox will obey me by and by.”
We paused as a group of farmers moved out from our path before proceeding. While waiting I noted subtly, and without surprise, how far Hesba had managed to distance Phaena and herself from us.
“I don’t see you anymore,” continued Aeros. “Once I saw you leaving the eastern gate when I was going out to the fields. You were headed off the road like you always do. I waved and called to you, but I don’t think you saw me. Not paying attention to anyone else, as usual,” he teased.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Phaena, then?” I heard myself joke. Though warm and engulfing, his laughter startled me.
“I suppose that does sound more like Phaena than you,” he conceded, grinning.
My lips twisted oddly as I fought to control my expression. I could feel the rigidity in my neck soften at the sound of his voice – my arms beginning to slightly swing to and fro as we walked side by side, the muscles in my face loosening so that I began to faintly smile. In surprise I found I’d lost track of where