All is well. Job is taken care of. He is healthy and happy and rich. The past is the past. Joy is the new way forward. Job's livestock ripple in the sunlight as far as the eye can see across the valley floor. His banker is building a second vacation home. His doctor has closed the practice. Job's new wife makes him prouder than he ever has been. His heart beats for her. His children are bright and well-adjusted.

Some nights Job sits with his daughters. Some nights he sits with his sons. Some nights Job tells stories to his grandsons. Some nights he draws stories out of his granddaughters. Some nights Job chases his great granddaughters around the room. Some nights he pretends to sit on his great grandsons. Some nights Job prays like a statue while the whole brood of offspring crawl over him and swing from his neck.
   
Some nights a stream of extended family and friends begin to arrive at the front gate. Some nights the children are put to bed and a true party starts up. Some nights there is wine. Some nights there is laughter. Some nights they watch the moon cross the sky. Some nights Job is reminded just how blessed he is. Some nights twice. They tell him and they tell him. Some nights while the party is in full swing Job walks outside. Some nights he wanders down to the garden. Some nights he crosses the great lawn to the tree line at the edge of his property. Some nights he begins to sob loudly there, hanging along a row of tombstones—some very small—which gleam in the moonlight like the teeth of a great mother lion.

.

W i g l e a f               05-15-20                                [home]