Scene Six

But Peter sent them all out and knelt down and prayed, and turning to the body, he said, “Tabitha, arise.” And she opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter, she sat up. Acts 9:40

Abigail scrunched her brow in an attempt to concentrate on the task before her. 

“Is your father lighting the candles now?” 

Her mother crossed the room and picked the candles up from her father’s place at the table. She brushed past her daughter and placed the candlesticks in front of her seat.

“I am sorry, Mother.” Abigail stood holding a bowl in one hand and the wine goblet in the other. “I am just a little distracted.”

“Distracted?” Her mother grabbed the items from her daughter’s hands and placed them on the table. “I do not need any more distractions. Your father will be home soon and he expects all to be ready.” She pushed her daughter toward the stairs.

Abigail resisted. “I can do this, Mother.”

“Not today.” She continued to push. “Today you help your little sisters dress.” 

“They can dress themselves.” Abigail turned around. “You need my help here.”

Her mother pointed to the table. “This help I do not need.”

Abigail took a good look at the table. Not one dish or utensil was where it was supposed to be. She hung her head in shame. Setting the Sabbath table had been her task since she was tall enough to reach it. How could she explain to her mother that her distraction was Judah’s fault, Judah and all this raising someone from the dead business? Mismanaged preparation for this holy day over such a distraction simply would not be tolerated.

Father had strictly forbidden any talk in their home about this new sect. She was quickly reprimanded the last time she tried to ask him a question about this polarizing religious group. And just as quickly, he reminded her that she better get all such thoughts out of her head or even Elias would not want to marry her. She let out a huge sigh. Of all the available Jewish men in Joppa, her father had to pick the one who made her nauseous. 

“More distractions?” Her mother snapped her pudgy fingers in her face. 

Abigail hesitated to answer. “I…I…well, it is just…”

“Just what?” Now her mother stood with hands on hips. “I do not have all day.”

“It is nothing, Mother.” The girl turned and started up the stairs. Another big sigh escaped from deep within her soul.

“Just one minute.” 

To her surprise, Abigail’s mother followed her up the stairs and pulled her to a stop. The eyes that were just seconds ago harsh and demanding began to soften. 

“There is something bothering you. Tell me.”

The girl just shook her head. She simply could not risk the ire of her father and place her mother in the middle of yet another father-daughter squabble. She tried to smile and said the first thing that came to her mind. “Just nerves, Mother.” 

“I knew it!” Her mother waved her hands in the air. “You are excited that Elias comes to our Sabbath. No?”

Abigail started to shake her head and then thought better of it. This was the perfect explanation she needed, but she could not outright lie. Her mind swirled for the best reply, but no words in the affirmative would be truthful. So she gave her mother a sheepish smile. Her mother hugged her and then scooted back down the stairs singing her words. 

“I knew you would come around. Elias is a good man: a great match.” She looked back to her daughter and waved her arms up and down. “Go, go! Get yourself ready. You must look especially beautiful tonight!”

“The girls?” Abigail kept the smile pasted on her face.

“Eh!” Her mother twirled down the last steps. “They dress themselves.” She laughed, almost hysterically. “I never thought this day would come.” 

Abigail plopped down on one of the steps and tried to sort out what just happened. She would not have to explain about her real reason for being distracted, but at what cost? Now she would have to pretend that she was pleased with her betrothal and she was not at all sure just how long she could keep that up. Hiding her true feelings was not one of her strong suits.

A younger voice called from above, “Abigail, may I borrow…?”

She waved a hand above her head. “Yes, yes.” 

The voice giggled with glee. She had answered absently without even knowing what was to be borrowed. It did not matter. All that mattered now was how to get through this night without disclosing her true feelings, but at the same time not appearing too eager. She put her head between her knees and let out another deep sigh. 

She whispered, “This is all Judah’s fault. And Chloe’s! And Tabitha’s!”

“Tsk, tsk.” Abigail touched two fingers to her mouth. “You are a wicked girl to speak ill of the dead.”

A quick thought raced through her head. No! It is not possible. But…maybe… She raised her head and listened carefully for any approaching movement and then said so softly that she almost could not hear herself say it.

“Maybe she is no longer dead.”

As quickly as she said it, she placed both hands over her mouth for she sensed she had somehow spoken blasphemy. Was Jehovah God, Who sees and hears all things, angry with her and about to strike her dead right where she sat? She remained very still and stared straight ahead for a few moments. Nothing different appeared to be happening. Her mother still fussed over the meal. Her siblings still scurried around upstairs. And her heart was still beating.

What if it can happen? What if this Apostle can raise Tabitha from the dead? Has it happened already? She had no idea how long such a thing takes. And if it has happened, what should she do? 

“You are still daydreaming?” Her mother scolded from the bottom of the stairs. “I hear your father and Elias in the garden.” She waved her apron up and down. “Shoo!”

Abigail scrambled to her feet. “Yes, Mother.”

Three brothers and two sisters scrambled down the stairs as she hurried up them.

“Miriam, that is my shawl.” Abigail reached for the beautiful violet garment.

Her sister avoided her reach and shouted back. “You told me I could borrow it.” The girl nodded amongst numerous giggles as she descended the remaining stairs. 

Abigail paused at the top of the stairs. Elias’ animated laughter filled their home as her siblings danced around him. She wanted her own heart to dance when this man entered a room. Instead, it usually crept into a deserted corner of her soul. Her mother told her not to worry about such silly girlish things. But Abigail not only worried about it, she longed for it. Was it wrong to want to be loved…truly loved. Another sigh escaped from deep within her soul.

Scene Five

…and all the widows stood beside him, weeping and showing all the tunics and garments that Tabitha used to make while she was with them. Acts 9:39b

Chloe stood next to Adina who stood next to Esther who stood next to Hannah who stood next to Miriam. She couldn’t see beyond Miriam in the crowded room, but in her heart, Chloe knew most of the women Tabitha had ever touched with her work and with her heart were hovering in this hot, stuffy room waiting for some word. Well, not all of them. 

Mariah had to go and prepare for the Sabbath for all her family. There was no one else to do so and not all yet believed. And some of the other women also could not stay or they would bring shame to their unbelieving husbands who expected a hardy meal before Sabbath began. Was this the reason Abigail would not come? Was she being a good and dutiful daughter or was she just avoiding them? She told Judah to make it clear that the girl would be home in time and would not defile the Sabbath. Chloe would never cause another to…she let out a big sigh.

“My feelings exactly.” Judah’s voice preceded his descending the stairs.

Several heavy sets of steps joined his until the men reached the bottom and could move no further in the packed room. He leaned heavy onto the banister near Chloe’s shoulder and sighed.

She teased. “He would not let you stay either?” 

He said nothing but she felt his head move back and forth.

“Do you think he can do it?” She needed this leader’s assurance. Such a miracle would surely convince the doubters of Jesus as Messiah.

Judah lightened his voice. “I do not think he would have come if he could not.”

Several of the widows began to cry again at the sight of the men being evacuated from the upstairs. Chloe tried to shush them with a finger to her lips.

“It is okay, Chloe. Soon their weeping will be turned joy.” Judah gently hugged her shoulders. “I am sure of it.”

Adina chimed in. “True. True.” She was clinging to the bright blue tunic Tabitha had made for her daughter just two weeks past. “This will not be the last garment our friend makes.” She held it up. “No?”

Chloe and the other widows answered in unison, “No!”

From the top of the stairs Levi half whispered half hollered, “Shush! Listen…listen.”

The whole room held its collective breath as the strong deep voice of a man in prayer drifted through house. Chloe’s heart sang in silent prayer with him.

So Peter arose and went with them. When he arrived, they brought him into the upper room; Acts 9:39a

Abigail tucked the last batch of cloth into her basket and then closed her booth. 

“Why does the afternoon before the Sabbath always go by faster than normal?”

A male voice from behind her answered, “Are you asking me?”

Abigail turned abruptly and knocked down the man.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” She placed her basket on the ground and stepped over to help him. “Are you hurt?”

The man uncurled himself and laughed heartily. “Only my pride.”

“Judah!” Abigail kicked dust at him and retreated to her basket.

“Whoa.” Judah stood dusting off his tunic. “What happened to being sorry?”

“I am sorry, Cousin,” Abigail squared her shoulders, “that you are here at all.”

She saw the pang of hurt in her cousin’s eyes. She should be sorry for that, but all she could think about was the cold shoulder her father continued to give her all week. He was kind enough to Judah and even to the wretched boy who spoiled all her cloth, but he would not even acknowledge her upon arriving home each evening. His duplicity angered her. No, it frustrated her. No. If she were honest, it hurt her…deeply. Her father’s business dealings with his brother, Judah’s father, were more important than mending his relationship with a daughter. 

“Abigail.” Judah’s voice was tender. “Can we not be friends?”

“Humph!” She picked up her basket and turned to leave.

“Chloe sent me.” Judah yelled after her. “She wants you to come meet Peter the Apostle.”

Abigail stopped in midstride. So, the great and all powerful Peter has come. She had no inclination to meet someone who turns people from their ancient customs and ways. And certainly not right before Sabbath. How…how…rude to even expect it.

Abigail looked back at her cousin. “I have no desire to meet this blasphemer.” 

“But Chloe will be disappointed.” Judah gave a faint smile. “And so will I.”

“You do realize it is almost the Sabbath.” She turned to face him. “Or do all you people ignore that commandment as well.”

“We do not ignore any of the commandments.” Judah took a small hesitant step toward her. “We are now free to fully live within them.”

“That does not even make sense.” She turned and moved toward the bustling crowd also in a hurry to return home.

“Please come.” She heard Judah’s steps follow her. “We will make sure you are home in time to prepare for the Sabbath.” He caught up with her and touched her elbow. “If only to make Chloe happy.”

Abigail stopped and allowed Judah to come along side of her. Just then, a stout woman of middle age bumped into them. Her arms were loaded with goods and youth of varying sizes trailed behind her, all carrying oversized loads of fish and cheese and vegetables. It was Mariah.

“Sorry.” She said. “So sorry.” The woman looked up at who she bumped into. “Abigail?  

Abigail nodded and then moved back to let the large brood pass. “You will be late.” Mariah waved her chubby arm directing those behind to keep moving. “You too, Judah. Peter will have come and gone by the time you get there.”

The cousins waved goodbye as the woman maneuvered her line of human chickens through the market crowd. 

“She is going to see this apostle of yours?” Abigail’s tone turned trite. “I thought she was rushing to prepare for the Sabbath.”

“I believe she is.” Judah smiled down at her. “She’s already met Peter at the distribution tables. That is where she is coming from.”

“All that food came from your…” She searched her memory for the correct word, but could not remember what they called themselves. “…your group?”

Judah rubbed his beard. “I do not think all of it, but a good deal.”

Abigail asked aloud what she meant to keep to herself. “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

She regretted at once where this conversation was probably going. Every time she asked a simple question about the strange changes among her people and within Joppa, the answers always circled back to this Jesus person. And their synagogue had strictly forbidden even the mention of his name. She was in enough distress with her father; she did not need to have God’s wrath come down on her as well.

“Nothing.” She stepped into the crowd. “I must go.”

Judah tugged at her. “But Chloe?”

“She will understand. Just tell her I…” Abigail stared at Judah’s pleading eyes. “I am sorry, Judah. I just cannot come.” She gave a final pull from his grasp and ran through the crowd.