2. The Judgment

We judge all lives to be important. Except when they aren't anymore.

The Priest was stroking his long, dark grey beard as he strode along with Judge Enaqus. Both clad in black clothes, two sides of the same coin.

“First, tell me how it all went at the maternity on Friday.”

“Ooo! Father, such a good day that was. You will adore this round of newborns. I have judged it so.”

“Tell me then...”

“I have judged thusly that we have a doctor among these children. We will have a professor, and a schoolteacher...”

“Wonderful. How delightful.”

“Perhaps even a priestess to be, that schoolteacher.”

“A blessing from The Lord.” The Priest revealed his yellow grin.

“We will also have a grand architect, a future mayor, so I have judged, and... The greatest of news—a new judge. So have I decided.”

“Ooo, that's such news, Enaqus, I'm so glad for you. Your judgment is God's judgment. All these new lives, and not just us the elderly, are precious to The Lord, and you are the one that decrees how they will serve him here on this earth. A most grand task, with the exception of priesthood of course. For we show the way to fulfilling God's decrees and bring each life into His light. You are one of God's emissaries in the land, Enaqus! Do not worry. Now, without concern, tell me. What's bothering you?”

“Thank you, Father. It is a heavy burden though. I wouldn't want to upset our Lord. I also gladly bear the weight of judgment and executing punishment. And this is why I always ask for your counsel, your holiness.”

“Be without worry.”

The Priest was smiling faintly under his muffy beard which he stroked to no end. With his other hand, he clutched the heavy golden cross of The Lord Jesus Christ, dangling from his thick, sweaty neck. His index was tracing along the naked Christic T. Somber, gray buildings would pass by. The men’s shiny black slacks tapped lightly on the clean-swept cobblestone.

“Yes. But this story haunts me since last summer and it's difficult for me to wipe its sight out of my mind...”

It was one of those Sundays when The Lord delivered a great scorching over us. Surely as a reminder of the hellfire which we'll suffer because of so many sins. We were all getting out after the usual scorching of our throats behind the church as it is the habit your holiness had started.

Then we saw hands stretched above the Bridge. A man. Tristen—Lara's. But not just him. A young lady was there also. And not his lady. She would prove to be one from the neighboring village.

And thus, a mob formed and rushed to see and find out the whats and whys and we did learn of them. And we scolded them for it was Sunday and they did not belong on the Bridge.

First spoke John.

“Folks, it is not Thursday. You know well you are only allowed on the Bridge during the days of the Market.”

You could read his sorrow in his voice. For the days when he... He's a good man now, your holiness is aware. John had those problems long ago. People caught him either fishing from the Bridge, or having strong liquor bottles about him, but he's learned his lesson now. And attends church. And pays like the rest of them.

Michael intervened also.

“Indeed. And the lady is not from our village. Which makes it worse.”

He's a reproachable man. But the poor lad hasn't had a woman at his side for far too long. And was caught too many times in the Market not for shopping, but for parlay with dames from the other village. And he used to grab them around their neck. And they would laugh together. He would caress, or rather check the quality of their hair. That's what he used to say when confronted. But it was too much when I caught him offering drinks to some of them. And his hands would fall too low from those curly golden flocks.

I haven't judged him too harshly, but I did remind him that we cannot crave for the women from the neighboring village. So he straightened up. And shows up at mass more often and won't make a face when there's donations to be made.

Then it was Marcell’s turn.

“That’s right. It’s Sunday. Have you even been to the church?”

He always brings up church attendance to those he feels they don’t. Between us, though, I think it’s more because of his wife, rather than God’s will that he goes too.

And there weren’t just men there.

But they all formed ranks around the two. And started shouting.

Jump.

Jump. (Everyone, like a choir.)

Jump. (More of them and louder.)

“Leave us alone!” they cried.

I will not lie, for my heart skipped a beat. I felt the blood rushing from my face. And theirs as well. For they became two pale fleshy sights. Her wheat-field hair, like a banner in the wind, attached to the shell of a body, for all substance seemed to have deserted them.

Jump! Jump! Jump!

“What have we done? Stop it!”

They were now both with their backs against the rail.

Jump! Come on, you can do it. Don’t let us down. Jump!

And I joined the front ranks, as my duty as Judge decreed, but could not make up my mind. I was hesitating. The situation called for a just ending. But it seemed that the crowd had a will of its own and had made a decision. For above the judgment of our own peers in this world, there is only the sentence of The Lord above.

Jump!

“And what is she looking for here anyway? Aren’t there enough men in her village? Can’t she leave our men alone, and not twist their heels?”

Thus spoke Liana. She who did not have a man, at her… o, surely forty years of age. And I doubt she still has the chance at one. I’m thinking of her whitening hair, her plump belly and her plowed face. I find it hard to believe she can ever be with child anymore. But she’s a faithful person. She sits in the back rows, sometimes stands, when it’s full. She always gives way to the elderly.

“And you’re married, Tristen. You’re going to put Lara in an early grave. What need have you to seek other women? And you know well you’re not allowed with those from the other village.”

“Those were Saphire’s words, holiness, of whom I have a matter to discuss. I have acquired files… Now we both know I’m not to disclose personal papers, but it’s us. I do possess certain documents on her name, and if her husband would ever ask for a marriage severance, he could open an infidelity case. What an unimaginable waste that would be. And it’s a shame what she’s doing as well. So I considered maybe you should approach her in a confession.”

The Priest ran his tongue across his lips, smacked, looked up to the sky, his eyes bouncing in their sockets, seeking.

“But anyway, she holds her faith well. Who knows what devil drives her over other paths.”

The Priest sent a considerable spat and made the sign of the cross three times. With lips still wet, he kissed The Redeemer’s crucified body hanging from his neck on a golden chain. He had to make a sidestep to avoid the puddle of phlegm he had just dropped with insufficient accuracy on the stone sidewalk.

The Sun was dressing up with clouds of grief. The Priest twisted his plump body to check the horologe in the village-house tower.

The Mayor... he thought. Slimy, sinful man. Overflowing with coin. And coins are the eyes of the devil. Thus, the devil's many eyes are upon him. And as soon as he makes a mistake, he'll walk him over the paths of peril, and far from The Kingdom of Heaven of which he's unworthy. With hurried pacing, he urged the Judge.

“Go on, tell me what happened next.”

“Well...”, the Judge sighed.

“And be without fear, for The Lord is with you forever, amen.”

The Priest grabbed the Judge with his left, and with his right shoved The Cross of Him Who Has Died for Us in his face. The Judge pursed his lips with haste and felt the warm wet gold up into his soul. He made the sign of the cross three times and quickened his step along.

“Fear not, for The Lord had you in his care at that time as well.”

Dark clouds began gathering then, as if the fury of the mob called for a judgment away from the light. The first drops came about after such a long time. They brought heavy burden. I understood then that the sky was crying.

Jump! The mob gathered ever tighter and started pushing them towards the rail.

So I intervened then. For the situation was dire and urged my judgment.

“No man shall be taken, imprisoned, or in any way deprived of freedom nor life, except by the lawful judgement of God’s sent on the Earth and their peers.

Standing before us is Tristen, Lara’s spouse. Accused of many acts against the lawful order of our community. We shall not, however, judge or in any way harm his accomplice, for she is not of our community, and therefore does not fall under our jurisdiction. However, at the end of the trial, she will be handled into the custody of her authorities to face her fate.

Ladies and gentlemen, what wrong doings do we accuse Lara’s Tristen, then? First of all, the obvious. Can we accuse him of being on the Bridge on a day of interdiction?”

“Yay!” The crowd roared.

“Can we accuse him of being together with a woman not from our village?”

“Yay! Adulterer! Fornicator!”

“And, as consequence, can we accuse him of infidelity, for he is also married to poor Lara, and meets another woman behind her back?”

“Yay! Scum!”

“And how do we find him of these accusations? Of illegal assembly on the bridge?”

“Guilty!”

“What of assembly with a person of opposite sex not under our jurisdiction?”

“Guilty!”

“And what of assembly with a person of opposite sex when already married?”

“Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!” 

“With three accusations of most grave consequence under which your peers and your Judge have found you guilty, how shall you plead, Tristen of Lara’s?”

“But we did nothing...”

“And what is the judgment of the peers?”

Jump (all together).

“Why is it so wrong to see each other on the Bridge on other days?”

No-No-NO! It's a sin! Jump!

“You fools! You blindly follow sheepish rules!”

No-no-no! Jump! Jump! (Everybody) Jump!

“We just wanted to enjoy the view.”

Jump!

“Your hatred brought an early dusk...”

Argh! Jump, yous, jump!

“And I too shouted jump! For that was the will of the people.”

“Be without worry. You're God's good servant.”

Leading the mob, I passed the sentence.

“Tristen, Lara's spouse, I declare you guilty on all three charges. Jump!”

“Promise me you'll let her go! She's an artist. And yes. I love her! She only wanted to do a painting of me. Why is it so wrong to love her, if I'm unhappy in marriage?”

Jump! Sinner! Adulterer! Jump!

“I only ever wanted to be happy and to love. It just so happened that she made me love her so much. What business is it of yours?”

Tears started coming down their faces. The glob became one and was crushing them against the rail. The girl's canvas was long trampled under the mass.

He turned. And went up the rail.

He faced his stony redemption.

The girl grabbed him and twisted him back. Back against the awful sentence that was that gathering.

“You said you won't die before me.”

Her face was now sullied with tear-washed cosmetics. The rhythm of the crowd intensified.

Jump-jump-jump-jump-jump. Feet stomped as drum-beats.

Under the burning sun, peeking from among broken, dark clouds, a long chill traced my spine. And the rain kept dripping.

I glimpsed the rivulet, what was left of it, underneath. White stones in wait. And then I saw her wheat-gold hair flowing as she was falling. Then her broken body. And the red seam. And we all started crying louder. And then soon he also broke, hitting the stones with a loud crunch, as if the sky above us cracked. The water flowed red on the other side of the Bridge. The stones were drowning, and the rain poured such that the river started filling towards the once dry banks.

“Will you forgive me, Father? Will The One Above forgive me? Such a heavy burden is this mission of mine...”

“Who was this lad?” The Priest frowned and started stroking his beard.

“Tristen. Of Lara's.”

“Well then... suicidal, and tithe-dodger. Now I remember him. It was because of these matters that I could not hold prayer, nor funeral for him. Be without worry, Enaqus. The Lord shall repay you when His Heavenly Kingdom Cometh, while those who take their own lives bathe in the scorching flames. He wanted to gaze the sun? A thousand suns are now burning for him.” 

And as if answering a summons, it immediately showed up from behind the clouds, continuing its burning crusade against those below.

“As for Lara... leave her in my care. Someone must bring her back into The Lord's fold.”