The Devil's Opera(110)
Simon found himself in a narrow room with a small desk in one corner, and various robes and cloaks hanging from pegs on the wall. Pastor Gruber slowly settled himself in the only chair and pointed at a nearby stool.
“Have a seat, Simon, and tell me what is on your heart. Did you ever settle the matter of Samson in your mind?”
Simon sat, keeping his hands in his pockets due to the chill air even in the room.
“I think so, sir.”
“So,” the pastor repeated, “what brings you by today?”
“Well, it’s King David.”
“Ah. David the king, the man after God’s own heart. And have you discovered that he had feet of clay, as Samson did?”
“No, sir…I mean, yes, sir, that whole Bathsheba thing.”
“That whole Bathsheba thing, indeed,” Pastor Gruber said in a very dry tone. “Is that what is plaguing you today?”
“No. I think I understand that. But…it’s Absalom, you see.”
“Ah.” The old man nodded. “I see. Yes, a very tragic story. It is always a horrible thing when a son rebels against his father, whether the father is a king or a shoemaker.”
“No, that part I understand,” Simon replied. “It’s the other guy.”
The pastor’s eyebrows climbed his forehead like fuzzy white caterpillars. “Other…guy?” The American word seemed to perplex the older man.
“You know, the king’s friend, Ahith…Ahith…”
Understanding dawned in Pastor Gruber’s eyes. “Oh, you mean Ahithophel.”
“Yah, him. If he was the king’s friend, if he had worked for the king all those years, why did he turn against him like that when Absalom…”
“When Absalom rebelled.”
“Yah.”
The old pastor stroked his beard for a moment, staring at Simon.
“You know, lad, you ask interesting questions. Come; let us see if we can find an interesting answer.” He reached inside the breast of his coat and brought out a small and much worn Bible. Laying it on the desk, he opened it with care and began gently turning pages. “I think the answer begins in the story of David and Bathsheba.”
A few more pages were turned.
“Here we are. Chapter 11, verse 3, of Second Samuel. Come see, Simon.”
The boy got to his feet, and went to stand beside the pastor. A gnarled and bent forefinger traced a line of words.
“See, here it says, ‘And David sent and inquired after the woman. And one said, Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?’ So Bathsheba was the daughter of a man named Eliam.”
The old man thought for a moment, then flipped a few more pages.
“Ah, yes, I thought this was here. Look, Simon, here in Chapter 23 verse 34 it says this: ‘Eliam the son of Ahithophel the Gilonite.’” Again the crooked forefinger traced the words as they were read.
Pastor Gruber closed the Bible, rested his misshapen hand upon it, and looked into Simon’s face. “So, lad, if Bathsheba was Eliam’s daughter, and Eliam was Ahithophel’s son, what was Bathsheba to Ahithophel?”
Simon didn’t have to think very long. “His granddaughter.”
The old pastor beamed at him for a moment. “Right!” Then he sobered. “Do you think, Simon, that Ahithophel might have been just a bit angry with King David for committing adultery with his granddaughter, having her husband murdered, and contributing to the death of her first-born son, his great-grandson?”
Simon was already nodding. “Yah. Now I understand it. But why did he wait so long to hit back at the king?”
“Well, lad, Ahithophel was a king’s councilor, and they don’t think like other men. There might be several reasons why. But I think—just thinking about the kind of man that Ahithophel proved to be—I think he waited until he could do something that would really hurt the king, as much as he himself had been hurt. And supporting Absalom’s revolt would have hurt King David very badly.”
Simon thought about that. He could see that.
“Okay.”
Pastor Gruber held up a hand.
“What lesson would you receive from this, Simon?”
Simon thought about that for a moment.
“Be careful who you trust?”
The old man gave a rheumy chuckle.
“Yes, that is certainly one lesson that could come from this story. But the more important lesson is this: everything you do has consequences. King David never realized that slaking his lust with Bathsheba would result a few years later in one of his sons driving him from his throne and coming within but a few minutes of killing him. But it did.”
“I’ll never do anything like that,” Simon avowed.