One of the books I have been working on for the past fourteen years is, “Clay of the Gods.” It’s the Bible put into fiction form. I built the characters into how I see them. I know we all see them a different way. My Jonah was built on my darling grandfather, who in old age felt useless. How do you see the people of the Bible?
Here is a short section of my Jonah
Clay of the Gods/Domenic/Chapter ten/Jonah Page 54
The wind blew not from the north, nor the south, nor east or west. It came straight down from the darkness above; spilling cold onto the tops of the mountains of Zebulun. The new snow swirled in a crescendo of sound. Ice began to appear everywhere. The dung-roofed huts of Gath Hepher became chilled white mounds. Spiders, beetles, ticks, and all the creepy things of summer scurried and rushed to burrow deep into the frozen earth. The winged red beetles froze and were carried away into the darkness of the storm. The goats of the high ranges had descended into the lush green valleys weeks before, so had the big cats and the wolves; their mortal enemies.
The field mice and the snake shared the same deep burrow. Only occasionally would the snake feed upon the mice. His winter food supply was assured.
On the north face of the small canyon, ice found its way into every crack, tearing stone away from stones. The snow settled onto narrow mountain paths made by men who had no love of this land. Traders from other lands trudged across these mountains, leaving their scars upon the natural beauty. The bones of pack animals, and men jetted out from the red dirt. The signs of man were everywhere.
Jonah frowned at his bare cold feet. He picked at the scaled dirt between his toes. The stink from his rotted teeth, and sick gums gave off a foul smell. A growl came from deep within his lungs. He spit the yellow of its foul onto the dirt floor and covered it. Old age was not settling well with Jonah. He found nothing to look forward too. He felt of no value to anyone, nor did he care to be. His penis, once the symbol of his strength now hung lifeless. His toe nails had become a dark yellow-breaking off at their edges, revealing a rotted black like those of dead goats. Pink spots covered his legs. Before him the bowl of oiled sweet cake and lamb gave off a smell he found unpleasant. He watched his old woman shuffling her bare feet into the sandy floor for warmth. Shadows cut deep into the line of her face revealing years of depression. Gone was her long black
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hair that once smelled of summer flowers, now a dry yellowing gray tangled mess. He found her scent more offensive than his dinner. Was this truly the woman he had vowed to love forever? Her lower lip hung down, almost pointed in the center. He watched the droll increasing with every movement of her open mouth. It formed a thin line from the crevice of her lower lip to the boiling pot before her. Where was the woman he had felt so much passion for? Was it she who had made his blood boil and his heart pound? He could not recall the last time they had made love. A picture of her young unclothed body flashed before him. What happened to her? Did he look as repulsive to her, as she to him? It had been many years since he had seen his face in the mirror his father had given him. He regretted having traded it away for wine. Where had youth gone? Was he now one of those pathetic old people? He pushed the clay bowl away, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Naomi, wipe your mouth,” he stammered, “are you trying to spoil the soup?”
She turned and smiled, but said nothing.
Jonah opened his mouth, but his words lodged in his throat. “Am I stt-ill
th-the man you fell in love with? Am I still handsome?”
Her grin widened, but she remained silent.
He pushed the bowl of oiled sweet cake and lamb further from him. He tried to speak,
but his lips would not part. He took a deep breath and bellowed,
“If I had known old age was like.... this, I, I would have taken better care of myself.”
Naomi stopped her kitchen duties and began to comfort Jonah with song. “You have always been my lion. You were born a man. You will always be a man. My heart sees no other.”
“I cannot give you what a wife needs.”
“It is I who cannot please you. Who wants an old woman who is pulled downward by the earth?”
Jonah stood and embraced his wife. She rested her head on his chest.
Page 55
“Even God has found no use for me,” he sobbed, “I am good for nothing. When I was young I dreamed that God talked to me. I told all the people of the village that God would expand the lands of Israel.”
“My papa,” said Naomi, “it was the wine talking.”
They both began to laugh, and soon Jonah was eating his oiled sweet cake and lamb.
Naomi sang and continued with her kitchen duties.
Here is a short section of my Jonah
Clay of the Gods/Domenic/Chapter ten/Jonah Page 54
The wind blew not from the north, nor the south, nor east or west. It came straight down from the darkness above; spilling cold onto the tops of the mountains of Zebulun. The new snow swirled in a crescendo of sound. Ice began to appear everywhere. The dung-roofed huts of Gath Hepher became chilled white mounds. Spiders, beetles, ticks, and all the creepy things of summer scurried and rushed to burrow deep into the frozen earth. The winged red beetles froze and were carried away into the darkness of the storm. The goats of the high ranges had descended into the lush green valleys weeks before, so had the big cats and the wolves; their mortal enemies.
The field mice and the snake shared the same deep burrow. Only occasionally would the snake feed upon the mice. His winter food supply was assured.
On the north face of the small canyon, ice found its way into every crack, tearing stone away from stones. The snow settled onto narrow mountain paths made by men who had no love of this land. Traders from other lands trudged across these mountains, leaving their scars upon the natural beauty. The bones of pack animals, and men jetted out from the red dirt. The signs of man were everywhere.
Jonah frowned at his bare cold feet. He picked at the scaled dirt between his toes. The stink from his rotted teeth, and sick gums gave off a foul smell. A growl came from deep within his lungs. He spit the yellow of its foul onto the dirt floor and covered it. Old age was not settling well with Jonah. He found nothing to look forward too. He felt of no value to anyone, nor did he care to be. His penis, once the symbol of his strength now hung lifeless. His toe nails had become a dark yellow-breaking off at their edges, revealing a rotted black like those of dead goats. Pink spots covered his legs. Before him the bowl of oiled sweet cake and lamb gave off a smell he found unpleasant. He watched his old woman shuffling her bare feet into the sandy floor for warmth. Shadows cut deep into the line of her face revealing years of depression. Gone was her long black
Page 54
hair that once smelled of summer flowers, now a dry yellowing gray tangled mess. He found her scent more offensive than his dinner. Was this truly the woman he had vowed to love forever? Her lower lip hung down, almost pointed in the center. He watched the droll increasing with every movement of her open mouth. It formed a thin line from the crevice of her lower lip to the boiling pot before her. Where was the woman he had felt so much passion for? Was it she who had made his blood boil and his heart pound? He could not recall the last time they had made love. A picture of her young unclothed body flashed before him. What happened to her? Did he look as repulsive to her, as she to him? It had been many years since he had seen his face in the mirror his father had given him. He regretted having traded it away for wine. Where had youth gone? Was he now one of those pathetic old people? He pushed the clay bowl away, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Naomi, wipe your mouth,” he stammered, “are you trying to spoil the soup?”
She turned and smiled, but said nothing.
Jonah opened his mouth, but his words lodged in his throat. “Am I stt-ill
th-the man you fell in love with? Am I still handsome?”
Her grin widened, but she remained silent.
He pushed the bowl of oiled sweet cake and lamb further from him. He tried to speak,
but his lips would not part. He took a deep breath and bellowed,
“If I had known old age was like.... this, I, I would have taken better care of myself.”
Naomi stopped her kitchen duties and began to comfort Jonah with song. “You have always been my lion. You were born a man. You will always be a man. My heart sees no other.”
“I cannot give you what a wife needs.”
“It is I who cannot please you. Who wants an old woman who is pulled downward by the earth?”
Jonah stood and embraced his wife. She rested her head on his chest.
Page 55
“Even God has found no use for me,” he sobbed, “I am good for nothing. When I was young I dreamed that God talked to me. I told all the people of the village that God would expand the lands of Israel.”
“My papa,” said Naomi, “it was the wine talking.”
They both began to laugh, and soon Jonah was eating his oiled sweet cake and lamb.
Naomi sang and continued with her kitchen duties.
