Lost Time (Time Out) Page 8

As I rushed outside, I fought back the surge of nausea that rose in my throat as I stepped on the squirming mass, but there was no other path – the hundreds of frogs covered every available surface on the floor.

  “I can’t believe I missed it!” I exclaimed. One startled slave glared wide-eyed at me as I pushed my way outside, interrupting his stomping. I should have kept a closer eye on Moses and Aaron.

  Outside, the scene was no better. In fact, it was much worse. If I didn’t know that I was in Egypt, I would have sworn that I was in some sort of jungle. As far as I could see, frogs covered the entire landscape. I saw what had to be tens of thousands of them hopping out of the Nile and clambering onto dry land. They were everywhere. They hopped and clung to the sides of homes and shops, the steps to the pharaoh’s palace, his still-uncompleted statue, and on the roofs, paths and open dirt spaces. Countless numbers of people ran from their houses, trying desperately to shake the frogs from their clothing and their hair.

  The croaking of the frogs grew almost deafening. I stood frozen, watching the scene in disbelief. The frogs, for some reason, didn’t climb on me, which I was perfectly fine with. I didn’t take the time to try to figure out why. Perhaps I smelled funny. I just didn’t care at the moment. I realized that a couple hundred frogs would be annoying, but not unbearable. This, on the other hand, was worse than a jet engine. I saw frogs all over the place! Having nowhere to go, I tried to avoid stepping on frogs as I made my way to Pharaoh’s palace.

  Just as I approached the entrance, I saw Moses and Aaron calmly walking toward me from inside the palace. I didn’t want to be seen by them, so I ducked behind an especially large mound of frogs clambering up a lattice frame next to the entrance. As Moses walked past, I heard him say under his breath, “Lord, I ask that you end this plague.”

  Immediately the croaking stopped, and a moment later, I realized they were dead. I stared. What were the odds that all these frogs would simultaneously drop dead for no apparent reason?

  As I watched Moses and Aaron walking back toward the slave barracks, I heard Aaron speak to his brother.

  “Well brother, it looks like we have a lot of work to do.”

  Nothing could have been closer to the truth. Instead of working on the Pharaoh’s statue that day as planned, we were ordered to collect dead frogs. This, mind you, was no easy task. Even though there were a great number of slaves, there had to be at least one hundred times as many frogs. With the rising sun, the carcasses began to stink and dry up. It was dirty, smelly work, but finally, after a long day of shoveling, we had collected all the frogs that we could find and piled them on the bank of the Nile.

  As I watched, an Egyptian soldier strode up to the gigantic pile of frogs carrying a lit torch. Without breaking his stride, he pitched the torch right into the center of the pile, and when the torch landed, it imbedded itself deep in the pile of dead frogs. The carcasses caught fire almost immediately.

  If I had thought the stench of the water turning to blood was bad, the smell of billions of frogs burning made me think twice. The smell caused by stomach to rebel, but since I hadn’t had anything to eat yet, I felt I was fairly safe from the threat of regurgitation. The sight and smell made me realize, and appreciate, what city maintenance workers had to go through when they shoveled road kill off the highways. The smoke from the mound of burning frogs drifted slowly skyward, black and dense with the odor of scorched flesh and, oddly and for the briefest of moments, made me think of how chicken smelled when Dad had barbequed in our back yard when I was growing up. The thought immediately caused me to retch, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to eat chicken again, or anything barbequed for that matter.

  After watching the frogs burn for a few more minutes, I walked back to the slave barracks to have what the other slaves called “lunch” – a meal that consisted of an unidentifiable combination of stuff that stunk so bad the smell probably reached God himself. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that the Pharaoh was trying to feed us some of the frogs. That way, he wouldn’t have to give us real food. I stared glumly at a lump of off-white, doughy stuff that felt rubbery in consistency when I poked at it with my finger, and a mush of several types of vegetables, if their red, yellow and green color were indicative of something that grew in the ground. A small portion of stringy, yellowish-tinged meat could have been frog, snake, or rancid fish. I really couldn’t make myself eat any of it, and though hungry, passed my wood platter on to the slave sitting beside me. He seemed more than grateful for the extra portion, and gobbled it down quickly. I grimaced and tried not to watch, or listen, to the sounds he made as he ate.

  After lunch, I avoided the soldiers as they rounded up the slaves to continue their day of hard labor. I hid behind a mound of urine-soaked straw, which the soldiers and slaves had obviously been utilizing as an outdoor latrine. As the soldiers and slaves headed toward the pharaoh’s palace, I found and decided to follow Moses and Aaron. I noticed they conversed with some of the slaves on the other side of the slave barracks, in the opposite direction my own group of slaves had disappeared. After they had finished their conversation with the slaves, Moses and Aaron headed toward ‘my’ group of slaves as they continued work on the Pharaoh’s statue. I followed and hid behind some bushes near the steps to the palace and listened as the Pharaoh stood nearby, observing the work progress. “You’re doing good work,” Pharaoh said. “But I hope you don’t think you can slack off because of that!” he said, pointing to the still burning pile of frogs on the riverbank.

  Of course, none of the slaves replied to Pharaoh’s comment, but Moses did speak up.

  “Pharaoh! You have oppressed my people for far too long. Once again, I ask you to let them go; my God demands it.”

  “Who does your God think he is ordering me around?” Pharaoh scoffed. He glared at Moses and his brother. “Those other “plagues,” as you call them, were pure coincidence! If your God really is all powerful, let him prove it to me. Otherwise, I will never let your people go.”

  Aaron nodded while Moses stood silent beside him, merely watching Pharaoh with a knowing eye. “Very well, if that is what you wish,” Aaron said. He lifted his staff in the air and slammed it down into the sand. When his staff hit the sand, instead of it making a tiny cloud of dust like it normally would, it created a cloud of dust that grew so quickly that it eventually enveloped Pharaoh, his servants, and his soldiers. Unlike most dust clouds however, this dust cloud seemed to make a distinction between Pharaoh and the Israelite slaves. While the Pharaoh and his soldiers were soon coated and surrounded by the dust cloud, the slaves remained untouched.

  All of the sudden, I heard a faint but continually increasing sound similar to a swarm of buzzing insects coming from the depths of the dust cloud. To my amazement, I watched as the cloud of dust slowly but surely transformed into a cloud of horse flies! They were huge, some nearly an inch long, their bodies bloated and slick with, well, what I could only define as bug juice. Then, as if an explosion had gone off deep inside the cloud of flies, they all burst outward and proceeded to cover the entire landscape at a terrifying speed. As quickly as I could, I ducked under a partially overturned cart nearby to protect myself from getting hit by the flies. They were disgusting creatures, ten times worse than common houseflies, and the sound of their fast-beating wings and buzzing soon overcame the startled cries of Pharaoh’s soldiers and guards.

  As I watched through the branches of the shrub, sheltered between the bush and the stone wall of the palace steps behind me, I realized the flies weren’t going anywhere near any of the Israelite slaves. It was as if there was some sort of protective dome covered them. The flies flew either around or over them. I knew that I, too, would be safe from their assault.

  The Egyptians, however, weren’t so lucky. Soon, the cloud of flies grew and extended beyond our immediate vicinity. They swarmed over the nearby streets, homes and businesses. They headed for outlying crops and orchards, into wells and around stables housing the Pharaoh’s hors
es and chariots. I saw women running around, trying to shake the flies out of their hair and clothing. I saw the men futilely trying to stop them from ruining their crops. I saw children just sitting on the ground crying as the flies crawled all over them like ants on a pile of sugar. As for the livestock, they were going crazy. I saw horses, camels and donkeys trying in vain to kick the flies away with their hooves and tails. They bucked and surged upward on their hind legs, screaming in fright. Riders were thrown; camels broke loose from their pens and raced through the streets, eyes bulging in terror.

  “Moses!”

  Pharaoh’s agitated voice echoed from inside his palace. I had been so busy watching the plague of flies swarm over the city that I had missed Pharaoh’s flight back into the security of his palace. However, by the sounds emitting from inside, I knew the palace provided little sanctuary to Pharaoh or his family, his staff or his officers, as screams and cries of terror came to my ears.

  Covering my face with my arms, leaving only enough room for me to see where I was going, I quickly headed up the steps and into the Pharaoh’s palace. I followed the sound of Pharaoh’s shouts and curses against Moses and his God as I made my way to the throne room.

  Inside, I hid behind a column, sheltered by a potted palm and watched as Moses and Aaron approached the dais upon which Pharaoh sat, his minions waving palm branches over him in an attempt to keep the flies from landing on his body. They grimaced, squinting against the onslaught. Moses and his brother Aaron stood before the pharaoh, untouched by the swarm. Moses was speaking to Pharaoh.

  “As soon as I go, I will ask the Lord to cause the swarms of flies to disappear from you and all your people. But I am warning you, don’t change your mind again and refuse to let the people go and sacrifice to the Lord.”

  After Moses finished speaking, I followed Moses and Aaron as they exited Pharaoh’s throne room and headed back outside. Since I remained a few yards behind them, so as not to be seen, I wasn’t able to hear what Moses said next, but I did see him bow his head in prayer and say something.

  Instantly, as if a blinder had been lifted from Egypt’s landscape, the flies disappeared! They didn’t slowly go away as some might think; they actually disappeared in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately for the Egyptians, ruined crops and numerous bites on their bodies remained.

  At this point, I was getting a little tired of plagues. It was cool to see stuff from Biblical times, but the stress of constantly having to run and hide behind stuff was really starting to stress me out as well as exhaust what little energy I had. I knew that some of the other plagues to come were things such as hail and locusts, and that it’d be interesting to see all the plagues that were coming up… but did I really want to experience them as well?

  After carefully debating the issue in my head, I finally decided to skip forward again. I realized that I would miss out on the other plagues, but I didn’t want to risk getting anything like getting killed by a piece of hail that was more than likely going to be the size of a basketball. I decided five weeks ought to be far enough ahead to skip the worst of the plagues. I whipped out the T.O.M. device, typed in “5 W-E-E-K-S”, and pressed the “Activate” button.

  Once again, the portal took shape before me, and anxious not to be seen, I quickly stepped through. Just as I stepped inside the vortex, I hoped I didn’t overestimate how long I had. Too late now, I thought as I came out the other side.

  As I stepped out of the portal, I noticed immediately that it was nighttime. My head spun for a moment and it throbbed as I looked up in the sky. After several moments, I felt stable again and realized that the stars were twinkling brightly, almost as if they watched and anticipated something happening beneath their glow. I was in the same spot I had entered the portal, halfway between the slave quarters and the Pharaoh’s palace steps. I started toward the slave barracks, but what I saw nearly made my heart drop out of my chest.

  Blood had been smeared all over the door! As I walked and looked around, I saw blood smeared on all the doors of the various slave barracks. Further towards the center of town, I could see blood was also smeared on the mantles of doorways leading into private homes and businesses run by the Israelites. After pausing to think a moment, I realized that this was probably the blood the Hebrews had been commanded to paint over their doorposts to keep away the next plague… the death of the first-born. My heart dropped in my chest as I made the connection in my head that I was the first-born of my family so this plague might affect me as well. I was standing in the middle of the street, exposed and with no protection.

  The night was eerily silent, as if every living thing held its breath in anticipation of something. No donkeys braying, no sounds of laughter from inside homes, no shouted orders by soldiers or Pharaoh’s guards, as I had become accustomed to. Then I saw it – a massive, dark, cloud-shaped mist that slowly headed toward the town from across the desert and over the horizon. Seeing that finally woke me from my shocked stupor and propelled me into action.

  I frantically tried opening the door to the nearest slave barracks so that I wouldn’t get caught in the middle of God’s wrath, but the door was bolted shut from inside!

  “Go away!” came a frantic cry from inside. “Go away!”

  “Open the door!” I screamed. “I’m one of you!”

  “Go away!” came the cries from several men inside.

  “I’m one of you!” I screamed again, panic rising in my chest. I looked over my shoulder and saw the cloudy mist had grown closer. “Please! The Lord is coming to wipe out all the first-born in the nation of Egypt!” I choked back a sob that threatened to escape my throat. “Please, let me in! I’m the first born of my family. Please don’t let me die!”

  A few seconds later, I heard a heavy wooden crossbeam being lifted from the other side of the door. The door opened just a crack, but I took advantage and pushed my way inside, my heart pounding with relief. The door slammed shut behind me, the crossbeam was replaced, and it was then that I realized that not only were the slaves shuttered inside, but in the midst of them stood Moses and Aaron, smiling warmly at me.

  “Please, come in,” Moses bade calmly. “From the way you were talking, we realized that you are not meant to be among the Egyptians that will die in this plague.”

  I stared at him. Moses had God’s ear, I suppose it was no great stretch to realize that he knew much more about things than I did. As I stepped further inside the slave barracks, I noticed a fire that had been started to keep everyone warm, as well as a table laden with delicious-smelling food. I wondered how Moses and Aaron had gotten their hands on food so much better than what is usually given to slaves, but I thought it was best not to seem ungrateful by mentioned my curiosity. Perhaps God was just watching over his people and trying to take their minds off of all the death that would visit Egypt tonight.

  “Sit, and dine with us,” Aaron invited, sweeping his hand over the feast prepared before us. I sat down to enjoy the meal with the rest of the slaves. When the covers were lifted off of the pots, my nose was greeted by the pleasant smell of beef stew.

  “This is the same savory stew that Esau made for Jacob,” Aaron smiled as he spoke to the slaves. “Eat up; it’s delicious!”

  Even though the slaves seemed impatient to eat, Moses held up his hand, swept his gaze around the slaves crowded in the room waiting for their portion, and then settled his gaze on me. “Would you like to pray for the meal?” Moses asked.

  “Me?” I gasped. I looked around to see if Moses was really looking at and speaking to me, and he was, nodding as he smiled. It had been awhile since I had prayed over a meal. Talk about pressure! “Sure,” I sighed. I didn't want to look bad in front of Moses, so I tried to do the best I could. “Dear Lord, please bless the food we are about to eat. I know that we don’t always get food this tasty, so please don’t let us take it for granted. I also pray for Pharaoh. Let the death of his son be a wake-up call to him that he would realize he must let the Hebrew people go. Amen.”
<
br />   After I heard everyone else mumble ‘Amen’, we dug in and started on our meal.

  “I’m curious,” Aaron asked. “How do you know that Pharaoh’s son is going to die? Surely only God knows when people will die, isn’t that correct?”

  My heart almost stopped. I had been caught! There was no way I could possibly know that unless I was from the future… which of course I was. Even though Moses seemed to have an inkling of whom, or what I was, it was apparent that his brother did not. How would I ever explain? Trying as best as I could to cover my tracks, I faked an explanation. “You said all of the first-born will die, right?” He nodded. “I just assumed that since Pharaoh only has one son, that he would die. Was I mistaken?” To tell you the truth, I didn’t even know if the Pharaoh only had one son or not. I was just hoping that assumption would be correct.

  “Yes, you are right.” Aaron said. “Sadly, the Pharaoh has only one son, and he will be one of the countless many to die tonight. He is very young, however, and doesn’t really know the difference between right and wrong. Have faith, it is because of this that I believe that the Pharaoh’s son will go to heaven when he dies.”

  I was just about to say something in reply to that when I heard a high-pitched noise from outside. It didn’t take me long to figure out what it was… screaming. The kind of screaming you hear only in your nightmares.

  Death had arrived in Egypt.

  Chapter 8

  Before Moses could say anything to me, I ran outside to witness the first Passover, filled with a sense of cautious curiosity. To be able to witness such an event was something no modern man had experienced, and yet I was given the opportunity to do so. I was so overcome with being able to see one of the most pivotal moments in the Bible first-hand, that I almost forgot about the death and mayhem that was about to take place.

  I wasn’t afraid anymore, even though I was a first-born, as I sensed that I was protected not only by God, but by Moses and Aaron. I didn’t think about the reality of it – something that had been portrayed and imagined in numerous books and movies. Moreover, here I was, about ready to experience the event with my very own eyes.