Free Stateless by Alan Gold Page A

saved . . .’
    They came upon the bank of the river and saw the water was moving swiftly, in places bubbling as it moved over submerged rocks or tree trunks. But it wasn’t the clear waters of mountain streams that Abram relished near his home, but rather brown and opaque. As his feet entered the water they immediately disappeared from view from the surface. The people from the village began to gather at the bank, forming a semi-circle around Abimelech and Abram, now standing shin-deep in the river. They began to sing a rhythmic chant which Abram didn’t recognise.
    Abram surveyed the scene as his mind began to panic and look for a way out. This didn’t feel right. In his home, the water was clear and cold and sparkling; but this water was brown and the people looked at him in what Abram feared was a menacing way. He looked up at Abimelech and the man’s zealous expression frightened him even more. Why was he gripping his arm so tightly? Was it so that Abram didn’t run away? What was happening?
    The semi-circle of onlookers appeared to him as a barricade of guards that blocked his escape. Abimelech took him by the hand and led him out further from the bank and into deeper water, but the water was warm, like a broth, and it frightened the boy even more.
    Fear continued to rise higher and higher in Abram’s mind as the water grew deeper and the distance from the shore grew longer, and the prospect of escape receded. As the water level rose to his knees, and his feet sunk deeper into the muddy bottom, he felt the pressure of the current and found himself gripping Abimelech’s arm to keep from falling over.
    â€˜Come deeper, my son. You must be submerged and cleansedand arise anew.’
    Abimelech led him deeper until the water came to his waist and the force of the current threatened to carry him away. The streams of the Galilee were not as deep as this; he was scared. Then the man put a hand on the back of Abram’s neck, gripping him tightly as he spoke to the crowd on the shore. Their chanting stopped.
    â€˜Today,’ shouted Abimelech, ‘we deliver another into the arms of God through his son, Jesus. The death of the old self and the rising of the new from the purifying waters . . .’
    Abimelech’s gaze turned to Abram. ‘All your guilt, all your corruption, all the wrongs you have thought and done will be washed away.’
    Abram now realised that the man was going to drown him. Was this what the Christians did to Jews? They drowned them?
    Abimelech lifted his other hand to place it over the face of Abram, almost smothering him as he raised his impassioned voice. ‘You will be saved as we have been saved. You will be welcomed into the next life when this life has passed . . .’
    Abram’s mind spun as he felt the water swirl around him. His mind raced for a way out. Abimelech was larger and stronger and held him fast. He could not escape from these strange Christians who he now realised meant to kill him like Jesus was killed, so that Abram could rise again. The words of the rabbi, ‘trust no one’, haunted him as he stood waiting to be pushed beneath the water, waiting to be drowned.
    â€˜You will be with our Lord, the son of God, Jesus . . .’
    Abram heard these final words and then was forced down into the sluggish brown water by Abimelech’s powerful hands. As he was immersed, he felt the strong current try to carry him downstream to the sea. The moments felt like an eternity as the water filled his nose and his eyes. He tried to keep his mouth closed but the sudden downward push into the river had forcedit open and water cascaded into his mouth and throat.
    Abram now knew with certainty that Abimelech was going to drown him. And that meant he’d failed the rabbi. Was this the end? The stone seal lost in the dirt at the foot of a Roman milestone, never to be returned to the place it belonged so