Stories from Heaven's Library - Vol. 30
For Young & Old

Jerome
PART 1

         Though night had fallen over the illustrious
* city of Rome, it was anything but still. This was the place for the rich and fashionable--those who lacked nothing. The year was 60 AD, and Nero sat upon the imperial throne of Rome. A selfish and haughty man, he indulged* in himself and the things of the flesh. In fact, this was the case with most of the rich nobles and senators*. They were carefree and egotistic, seeking only to please themselves. They had no desire to help the poor and needy of even their own country, but were fully absorbed with themselves, and with how to make their own lives more comfortable.
         These noblemen and women worshipped their own gods and frowned upon those who did not. Many of them despised the ever-growing sect of Christians, who were fast gaining popularity among the people and were turning them away from their Roman gods and pagan superstitions. Thus the ruling class furtively sought opportunities to legally arrest any Christians that they could, hoping to curb the spread of this fanatic rebellion and to turn the people back to Roman sanity.
         Most Christians were just common people, but there were also a few influential senators and noblemen who had converted. These could not profess their faith openly, as it was considered treason for a Roman citizen, especially one of rank, to profess faith in any God supreme to the emperor himself.
         A little ways out from the city, in a humble yet spacious room, a Christian meeting was being held. A crowd of nearly fifty people had already gathered inside, and more were coming in. When everyone had settled, an elderly but robust man stood up. He was tall and heavyset, and his brown hair showed streaks of white. He was a blacksmith by the name of Elmo.
         "Thank you all for coming," he said, "and we thank You, dear Lord, for protecting each one here from the eyes of any intruders. Keep us safe, as well as our brethren who were not able to come tonight. Amen."
         "Amen," the crowd echoed in hushed tones.
         "Before we begin, I would like to welcome and introduce you to our new brother and sisters in the Lord. Senator Adrian, his lovely wife, Claudia, and their daughter, Lydia."
         "God be with you!"
         "May we all be a blessing to you!"
         "Welcome!" the greetings came back from the crowd.
         Elmo turned to them, and continued. "As your brothers and sisters in Christ, we welcome you into our fellowship. May God bless and keep you. We pray that we will be whatever help we can. Please feel free to come whenever you wish. Our doors are always open!" The newcomers then sat down, and Elmo began his sermon.
         In the back of the room, leaning up against the wall, stood Jerome, Elmo's 16-year-old son. Jerome was the eldest of five brothers and sisters, and he had grown into a charming young man with fine features and wavy, jet-black hair. He worked with his father, learning the trade of a blacksmith, and it showed in his muscular body.
         Jerome's parents had once been rich nobles of Rome, but when he was only seven, something had happened--exactly what, he did not know--and they had to leave their fine house and place in society.
         With what little money his family had left, they were forced to rebuild their lives. They did so among the common people. Still strong and able-bodied, his father soon found work as a blacksmith. He prospered in this business, until they were fairly well off once again.
         Sadness struck the family, however, when one day, his mother died of a sudden illness. Jerome was only nine years old at the time, and he had adored his mother. To him, she was a saint. Everything she did was right, and she never let him down--except the day she died. He felt upset at God for taking away his beloved mother, and that it had happened so suddenly.
         Jerome often thought back to the early days of his childhood, when he had had everything he wanted. In those days, a personal servant took care of him and his brothers and sisters. Now things were different. Since his mother died, he was expected to help his father support the family, and to take care of his siblings.
         The change of lifestyle was hard for Jerome. He was used to a life of pleasure and ease, having servants wait on his every whim. But now, while they managed, it took a lot of hard work, and being the eldest, Jerome was very much aware of the burden it was to provide for their family.
         Only one servant had loyally remained with their family; a burly, quiet man named Clyde, who mostly helped Elmo in the workshop.
         Jerome looked over to where the senator was sitting.
It's not fair, he thought, how God prefers some people. That girl there what was her name? Lydia. She must have everything she ever wanted. She has both her parents, and probably lives like a queen. Why do we have to be any different from them? If only things had remained the same, I would have been happy and living a normal life--like her.
         Jerome then cast a glance towards his father, who was still deeply engrossed in his sermon. What is it that gives Father such power, such life? He's always so happy and finds good in everything. I don't understand what he's so cheerful about all the time.
         When the sermon had ended, and everyone was leaving, Jerome wove his way through the people milling about, and went over to his father. All he wanted to do was get home. Things were scary these days, and with Nero on the throne, they could never be too sure what to expect from the Romans.
         Elmo was talking with Adrian, whose wife and daughter stood nearby. As Jerome approached his father, Elmo motioned towards him. "Oh, here comes my son now. I want you to meet him."
         Jerome came up to his father. "Father, when are we leaving? I've gotten all the stuff together."
         "Not so fast, my son. I want you to meet the senator and his family."
         Naturally, Jerome was more interested in Lydia, the senator's 15-year-old daughter, than he was in the senator and his wife.
         Lydia was slender, with long, reddish hair, and turquoise eyes--a picture of grace and beauty. Jerome could hardly keep his gaze from wandering her way, even as he answered the questions the senator was asking him.
         After a few more moments of talking, Elmo hinted that it was time to leave. They quickly made their farewells, and then dispersed and headed to their homes.
* * *
         It was early when Jerome awoke; the sun had not yet risen. He sat up in his bed, remembering that this day he had to go to the marketplace. He managed to drag himself out of the hard bed he had long gotten used to, and then proceeded to get dressed and ready.
         Elmo met him at the door before he left. "Have a good day, Jerome, and be careful. Remember, we have enemies all around."
         "Yes, Father, don't worry. I'll remember," Jerome said, somewhat perturbed
* that his father didn't trust him to leave home without a word of warning.
         It was now the year 65 AD, and during the past five years life in Rome had become all the more dangerous for the Christians. After the great fire had ravaged much of the city, Nero charged the Christians with the crime of starting it. A vicious campaign was now underway to apprehend Christians and bring them to justice for their crimes against the Roman nation. Christians were routinely rounded up and thrown into prison, to await their death. Those that remained were driven further underground, meeting secretly, and never twice in the same place. They had to be careful of when and to whom they spoke about their faith.
         As Jerome walked down the dusty pathways leading to the main road, he mused on his home life.
How does my father always manage to be up earlier than me? And he always has some word of advice to tell me at the beginning of each day. I'm 21 years old now, and well able to care for myself. I wish he wouldn't be so worried about me. He almost seems out of touch with us, he's so good.
         Occasionally, Jerome would take a short detour on his way to and from the marketplace to stop by the place the gladiators trained.
         At this early morning hour, as he passed by the gladiator ring, it was still deserted.
I'll stop by on my way home, Jerome thought. Hopefully there'll be some action by then.
         Jerome went through the whole market, envying those who could buy the things he couldn't. Every once in a while, a pretty girl would catch his eye, but Jerome knew that, as flattering as the looks he received from these rich girls were, they would never be seen associating with him, a commoner; so he just kept walking.
         A while later, Jerome had finished, and headed towards the gladiator ring. A number of people had already gathered.
I wonder who's fighting today? he mused within himself.
         Suddenly, his eyes fell on a most comely sight.
Oh God, Jerome thought, where did she come from? She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
         Not more than eight meters away, on the fringes of a small crowd, and in the middle of a group of whispering young women, stood a gorgeous girl. Jerome was sure he had never seen her before. She was average height, and beautiful to behold. Her long golden hair fell softly down her back. Her clothes accentuated a body that could afford to be shown off, and she had a noble, almost royal air about her.
         For a split second Jerome's eyes caught her soft brown ones as he slowly made his way towards her, trying not to be obvious with his fascination for her beauty. As he had done with all other girls, he planned to ignore her. As difficult as it was not to stop for a decent look, Jerome kept himself together quite well and when it came time, casually walked straight past her.
         "Hey there! Come here for a moment!" he was surprised to hear a voice call after him. Jerome stopped. He slowly turned around to find himself the object of attention of this group of girls. As he suspiciously looked them over, the girl called again. "Are you deaf or something? Come on, handsome. There's nothing to be scared of--or is there?" It was the girl he had adored, and she was calling
him over! The girls surrounding her were giggling.
        
I'd better not make a fool of myself, he thought, as he tried to rearrange the filled baskets he carried in his hands.
         "What's a good-looking guy like you doing shopping around in the marketplace? You should be having a great time."
         Jerome looked at her questioningly.
         "Oh, I see!" she continued. "I was assuming you were the son of a rich noble or senator, but I suppose you're only common class." Again, a round of snobbish snickers arose from the group of young women standing around her.
         Jerome took that to mean he should continue on, so he started walking away, but the girl called him back. "Aren't you going to tell me your name? I'll tell you mine."
         He turned around once again. "My name is Jerome, the son of Elmo--once a noble." Jerome looked down a little to hide his embarrassed face.
         "And I'm Chloe, daughter of Marcellus and Octavia--still nobles," she replied with a smile.
         Jerome returned the smile. He had heard much of her parents, although he'd never met them. They were one of the richest families in all of Rome, and well acquainted with the emperor himself.
         "Oh well," Jerome found himself saying, "I guess I'd better go, since I'm obviously not one of your kind." With that, he took one last look at the sight he figured he would never see again, and turned and went on his way.
         Jerome arrived home, and his father greeted him with some unexpected news. "Jerome, you and I have been invited to a party with Senator Adrian. His family will be there, along with many other friends and nobles."
         "But father," Jerome protested, "I just don't fit in with that sort of people. I'm not good enough."
         "Don't give me that. You know it's not true. You're well-mannered and educated, and as good as the rest of them. You'll fit in just fine--you'll see!"
         "But father, I don't want to go. Isn't there some way out of it? Who will stay with the house?"
         "Your brothers and sisters are old enough to look after themselves, Jerome. And Clyde will stay with them. We can't turn down this invitation. It would mean a lot to Adrian if we could come."
         Jerome knew that was the end of the discussion, and said no more.
         It wasn't that Jerome didn't like being around the rich; in fact, a party in the house of a rich man, with all the food he could eat, and servants to attend to his every whim, somewhat appealed to him. He just didn't feel comfortable; he knew that he was not one of them.
        
Oh, maybe it'll be all right, he mused after a while. After all, Senator Adrian is a Christian. Lydia will be there, too. I could just talk with her. Jerome had not seen much of Lydia since the great fire, as it had been too dangerous for the senator to come to any of the meetings. But although the two had not spoken much over the years, Jerome had become quite interested in Lydia, who was now a sweet, mature young woman.
* * *
         It had been a long time since Elmo had attended any sort of upper-class parties, and as he and Jerome made their way to Senator Adrian's mansion, they were both somewhat nervous. There were so many questions Elmo did not want to be asked, but he prepared himself for the worst. Although he hoped to avoid any direct confrontation, when it came down to it, Elmo knew he would never deny his Christian faith.
         Jerome, too, felt nervous. As many times as he had been to this house in the past, accompanying his father on visits to the senator before the persecution, the stately building they now approached once again brought back memories of his childhood--memories that he otherwise did his best to suppress.
         As they entered the large, spacious guestroom, Adrian and Claudia were there to meet them. Jerome looked around the room--and then he saw her! Chloe had come. His face turned slightly pale.
         "Are you all right?" Claudia asked Jerome, a note of concern in her voice.
         Jerome ignored the question, as Adrian continued speaking with Elmo.
         "I'm so glad you could make it! It is so good to see you again. I hope you will not be too uncomfortable around all these people. We won't mind if you decide to leave earlier than the rest."
         Elmo looked around the room. A number of people were already milling about. He recognized a few of them, although not many recognized him. Jerome looked around as well, and noticed a few faces that seemed vaguely familiar. One man, in particular, caught Jerome's attention.
         "Father, see that man standing by the table? Do we know him? I seem to remember him from somewhere."
         "Why, it's Marcellus. I didn't know he was back in Rome. Yes, Jerome, we know him--all too well." Elmo grew silent for a moment. Then he continued in a whisper, "It is because of him that we live the way we do today." Elmo shook his head, as if he sought to shake whatever thought was troubling him. "That's his wife, Octavia, standing next to him," Elmo added in a more casual tone.
        
Marcellus and Octavia! Of course, the richest nobles in Rome--and Chloe's parents! Jerome summed up. "So does that make them our enemies?" he asked his father.
         "No one is an enemy, Jerome. We should be kind to all," Elmo answered simply.
         At that moment Marcellus caught Elmo's eye and made his way over. "Elmo," he said, "is it really you? It has been a long time. And this must be your eldest son Jerome, if I am not mistaken. You have surely grown, boy," he said as he turned and looked at Jerome. The coldness in Marcellus' eyes sent shivers down Jerome's spine.
         "I assume you don't remember me."
         "Oh, I do--vaguely," Jerome replied, then, trying to sound courteous, he added, "How are you, sir?"
         "Quite well indeed. And what has become of you, Elmo? What brings you to this festivity?"
         "Senator Adrian and I are friends. He invited us."
         "Friends, huh?! Interesting. I didn't know he knew you." They continued to chat for a while longer, until Marcellus politely excused himself.
         It was now dusk, and preparations for the banquet were under way, while a variety of entertainments took place.
         Jerome went out into the spacious garden, where he found Lydia. She looked very beautiful this night, and what was more, she seemed to take quite an interest in him.
         "So Jerome, tell me about yourself. What sort of things do you enjoy doing?"
         "I like walking around, looking at things. I enjoy watching the gladiators train, although it sometimes reminds me of the days when we were better off."
         "That's right, I remember now. You used to be nobles, too, right? What was it that happened to your family?"
         "I only remember having to leave our villa in the country when I was seven. My father never told me why, but I think it has something to do with Marcellus."
         "Hmm, that does sound like something sly Marcellus would do. His daughter acts just like him."
         "You mean Chloe?"
         "Yes. Do you know her?"
         "I met her briefly. I must confess I was quite taken by her beauty!"
         "Yes, I suppose she is pretty, but that's about it. She has a lovely body and rich parents, but when it comes down to things that really matter in life, she doesn't have much at all." Lydia stood silent for a moment. It was obvious she often thought on such matters.
         When they were out of earshot of any others, Jerome changed the subject. He was curious to know how Lydia felt now about being a Christian.
         "Why risk your life being a Christian when you have so much ahead of you?" Jerome asked her.
         "What do you mean? It's not much more of a risk for me than it is for you. I love the Christian life, and would give anything to keep it," Lydia said.
         "Well, you know, my father has been a believer for as long as I can remember, and I know what Christianity is all about. It has good morals, but really, what good does it do? It seems like it only makes you an enemy of the state and therefore of most of its people. Sometimes I wonder if it's really worth the trouble."
         "There's more to it than merely good morals, Jerome. You, of all people, should know that. The Words of Jesus that your father spoke to us have changed our lives. It is the power of the risen Savior within us, and the hope of eternal life with Him--that He is preparing a place for us, so that where He is, we may be also--that keeps us going. Not just the good moral standard. And what do you do for sport?" Lydia said, quickly changing the subject when she saw Chloe enter the garden.
         Seeing Jerome and Lydia, Chloe pranced over and said, "You two look like you're getting on quite well. May I join in?"
         "Sure!" Jerome replied, quite pleased at the idea of all this female company. Lydia, however, slowly backed away and excused herself, leaving Jerome and Chloe to themselves.
         "So, is this what you do when you're not traipsing
* through the marketplace?"
         "Well, no, actually. My father is a blacksmith. I help him with his trade, as well as the care of our house and my younger brothers and sisters."
         "A blacksmith who shops and does chores?! Ha!" Chloe held her hand over her mouth as she let out a giddy laugh. Jerome looked a little indignant
* as Chloe continued, "By the gods, is that all? Someone like you could easily find work as a soldier or a gladiator--anything more exciting than being a blacksmith."
         "Well, since my mother's not around anymore, my father needs my help. Besides, we prefer to stay together." Although there was a measure of truth in what Jerome said, it was not his real reason. He knew that his father would never approve of him going off to follow any such career.
         "I think I could get you such a job, as well as a more decent education. You know, Jerome, I quite like you; you're different than the other guys around here. There's something more to you, even though I don't know exactly what it is."
         This whole conversation was beginning to sound flattering to Jerome. Chloe obviously liked him and, as they continued talking, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe this opportunity was just what he had been looking for. Besides, he was beginning to realize that he quite fancied Chloe, and wondered what it was that Lydia didn't like about her.
         Jerome liked Lydia as well. Even though she was rich, she was simple and caring and concerned about others. She had an inner spark that fascinated Jerome even more than her pleasing physical attributes. But there was something about Lydia that Jerome couldn't quite understand either: Why would she be willing and content to risk losing a carefree life of pleasure to be a Christian?
         As Jerome and Chloe were engaged in conversation, so, once again, were Marcellus and Elmo.
         "So Elmo," Marcellus was saying, "what has become of you these days? Are you still involved with that fanatical sect of Nazarenes?"
         Elmo, trying to avoid getting into any talk of religion, simply answered, "I'm a blacksmith, working hard every day."
         "Ah, how strange the ways of fate, are they not? The once great and noble Elmo, now a blacksmith. Tell me, it must have been difficult for you after a life of ease."
         "I've gotten used to it now," Elmo responded. "And it's done me a lot of good."
         "Such as "
         "Such as learning a concern for the world around me, a concern for those who don't live in fancy houses and own four--or is it now five?--estates."
         "Are you saying that I don't have compassion on others?" Marcellus' eyes gloated at the mere implication of his own hardened nature.
         Elmo remained silent. Such a question did not need answering.
         "But tell me, what are these rumors I hear, that you are now the leader of your own sect of Christians?"
         Just as Marcellus finished this question, someone came running up to Elmo telling him that a messenger wished to see him.
        
Thank You, Lord, for saving me from having to answer that question! Elmo prayed silently, and then excused himself and turned to walk away.
         "Perhaps we shall finish this conversation another day," Marcellus called out.
         Elmo ignored him and calmly walked out to the waiting room where Clyde, Elmo's trusted servant, waited. Elmo could tell something was wrong, as Clyde was perspiring heavily, and doubled over on a bench, his head in his knees. As soon as Clyde heard Elmo's voice, he jumped up.
         "Master, I have terrible news. Shortly after you left, soldiers came and went house to house. They took many people away including including your other children. There was nothing I could do to stop them." Clyde was shaking and he held his head down.
         "I would think that any soldier would think twice before crossing your path," Elmo said with a tone of surprise. Clyde was not only large, but also a very strong man.
         "Alas, my lord, I was not there. I arrived moments after the soldiers had gone, and it was too late." It was obvious that Clyde felt much condemnation. He could not bear to look into Elmo's face.
         Elmo stood still for a moment and closed his eyes as he recovered from the shock of this heart-rending news. When he opened them, he looked at Clyde, who was still obviously shaken himself. Elmo, always forgiving, hugged Clyde and whispered in his ear, "My friend, I don't know why the Lord has allowed this to happen to me, but I do know He always knows best. Don't worry, Clyde, this is not your fault. If this is God's will, nothing you could have done would have prevented it."
         They were both silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then Elmo said, "I will talk with Adrian and see what we can do. Clyde, can you try to ascertain where they have taken them, and bring word back here to Adrian's house?--And may God have mercy on us all."
         Elmo went back inside, his heart still heavy with the realization of what had just happened.
         Seeing Elmo's distraught face as he approached, Adrian knew something was wrong. "Elmo, what is it?"
         "We cannot discuss it here," Elmo replied in a whisper.
         Adrian and Elmo went to an upstairs bedroom while a servant called for Jerome. When they were alone, Elmo spoke. "Something dreadful has happened. Clyde came to tell me that all my household, as well as many others, have been taken captive this evening. Surely, whoever is behind this will soon be looking for me as well."
         Adrian looked stunned. "But how who how did they know? There should have been no reason for them to suspect you!"
         "I don't know. All I know is that it's done and there's nothing I can do right now to get them back. Jerome and I will be needing a place to stay."
         "I have a secret place that was built not long ago. It's in no way fancy, but it's safe. You and Jerome should remain here until the guests leave. Then, as soon as the coast is clear, I'll take you there."
         At that moment Jerome walked into the room, escorted by Lydia. Elmo broke the news to his son and told him of their plan. Jerome was as angry as he was shocked, and he didn't relish the idea of hiding.
         "But, Father, there must be something we can do to help them. We can't just hide and do nothing!"
         "I'm afraid there's not much we can do for the present, son, but wait--and pray for God to show us what to do next."
         "So we're just going to stay hidden, in some secret hole? Father, with all due respect, no!"
         "Son, listen to me. I believe Marcellus may be behind this. I sensed something in his eyes when he talked with me today. And if he is, we will not be safe anywhere in the open. He has eyes everywhere."
         Jerome threw himself down on the bed, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. "And now we're going to have to wait here," he murmured glumly. Elmo sat down on a chair and closed his eyes for a moment of silent communion with his Savior.
* * *
         Back in the dining hall, Chloe was looking for Jerome. Spotting Lydia, she called out, "Have you lured Jerome away from me?"
         Lydia gave her a look which said that even if she had, Chloe would not get him back.
         Acting like a little spoiled child, Chloe went to her father and told him that Lydia had taken Jerome away from her, and now he was nowhere to be found.
         "Hmm, how unfortunate," he said casually. But to Chloe's frustration, he did nothing further about the matter.
         The partying went into the wee hours of the morning until most of Adrian's pagan guests were thoroughly drunk. Marcellus, however, wasn't. He now busied himself trying to locate Elmo. He and Jerome had suddenly disappeared, and nobody seemed to know where they had gone. He finally asked Adrian, who told him that Elmo had already left the party with his son because some pressing matters had to be attended to.
         "I wonder what that could be at this hour of the night?" Marcellus glumly retorted as he walked away.
         As the rest of the guests were leaving, Marcellus called Adrian aside and spoke demandingly. "I hear that you and Elmo have become close friends. Well, Senator, I must inform you that he is wanted for questioning. If you know of his whereabouts, you would be wise to let me know. Elmo is an enemy of the state." Marcellus paused for a moment, and then added, "Or perhaps you already knew that."
* * *
         After what had seemed like an eternity, Adrian returned and led Elmo and Jerome away to his private "catacomb."
         Behind the house, in view of the back garden, Adrian pulled aside a stone slab, and slid down into a small, dark crack. He beckoned Elmo and Jerome to follow as he lit a torch. They made their way through a long, curving tunnel. After about five minutes they came to a small wooden door and opened it.
         "I told you it was nothing fancy," Adrian apologized, "but you should be safe here."
         "Great!" Jerome muttered to himself. This was not his idea of a pleasant evening.
         "I know this is not your idea of fun," Adrian said sympathetically, looking at Jerome. "I regret that this is all I can do for you at the moment."
         "Thank you, Adrian," Elmo quietly said. "We appreciate your help. Don't worry about trying to convince Jerome. It just makes things worse."
         Jerome looked up with a scowl on his face. "What makes things worse is that you don't understand, Father. I'm only 21 and I have my whole life ahead of me! But before I even have a chance to live the way I choose, you have decided my fate for me. You turn me into an enemy of our own people. As much as I admire and respect you, Father, I do not see how I can go on like this. I need variety, I need friends, I need to have some fun, some challenge in my life! As things are now, we're always hiding from something or someone."
         As Jerome and Elmo looked intently at each other, Adrian silently stood by. Finally Elmo walked away, back into the tunnel, leaving Jerome alone in his misery. Adrian followed him, and they both sat down and began to talk.
         "I don't know what to do anymore," Elmo began. "We always figured that Jerome would stick to his faith. He used to love the stories of Jesus and the disciples. When I would give sermons, he always used to listen attentively. But now he's so different. I don't know what's come over him. Perhaps I have failed in raising him, or perhaps there are other reasons. But I feel that I must find a solution, or I may lose him."
         "Did you ever think that it could have something to do with losing his mother? Have you ever told him what really happened?"
         "I have not been able to. He has not yet learned what it means to truly forgive, and I fear he may take revenge."
         "Well, I think it's time that someone did take revenge on Marcellus for all the harm he's caused you."
         "Vengeance is the Lord's, He will take care of that. He is the Almighty and He knows best. We do well to let Him lead."
         "You're right, Elmo. I'm sorry. But I still think you should tell Jerome."
         "I don't know."
         "I will be leaving on a trip early tomorrow morning, and will be gone a few days. Lydia will see to it that you have all your needs."
         "Thank you, Adrian. May the Lord be with you!"
         "And with you, my friend. Sleep well!"
* * *
         At the house of Marcellus, a servant entered the room to tell Marcellus that a messenger had come to the door for him. Marcellus was entertaining guests of his own, however, and instructed him to bid the messenger wait. In a moment the door burst open, and Clyde walked in. Marcellus jumped to his feet.
         "Oh, Clyde, I'm sorry! I did not know it was you. What news do you bring?"
         "Master, I have confirmed that Senator Adrian has indeed hidden Elmo, although I do not yet know where. I cannot be too inquisitive, lest I fall under suspicion. His house is being watched should he try to return, though I doubt that he will."
         "Senator Adrian, huh," Marcellus said wryly, rubbing his hands together. "Why, I couldn't have planned it better myself. If Adrian is indeed hiding a traitor, we will have somewhat to accuse him of, and if he does not deny it, he will face the sweet justice of Rome."
         "I shall return to the house of Adrian and see what more I can learn about the whereabouts of my master."
         "Very good. And be quick." A smile surfaced on Marcellus' face.
I have to see Elmo's face when he realizes who it was that betrayed him.
         Turning to his guests once again, Marcellus continued his conversation. "Now that we have found another nest of these traitorous Christians, they will be brought into the arena, where we shall watch the lions have some fun. The emperor himself will be there."
         The men sitting across from Marcellus smiled at the thought, already gleefully toying with the idea of seeing bloodshed.
         "And," Marcellus continued, "it appears that we may see some familiar faces. I have just heard that Adrian is helping the Christians. I, for one, will find great pleasure in seeing him die."
* * *
         The few days that passed seemed like an eternity, especially to Jerome. Each day Lydia brought Elmo and Jerome food, water and anything else they needed. Often, she and Jerome would talk together, and her visits were the only reason Jerome had managed to keep his sanity as long as he had. Even though Lydia would often come down to the cave--or the hole, as Jerome called it--he was still beside himself with anxiety and restlessness.
         It was also not easy for Elmo to see his son this way. He had always wanted to give Jerome the best, and it made him sad to see his son so unhappy now.
         Jerome sat in the corner, as he usually did, thinking--to himself, and occasionally out loud--about how horrible life was. He jumped up as heard a distant, now familiar noise. Within minutes, Lydia entered the secret room with some food.
         "Here you are," she said with a smile, as she set the platter down on a rough piece of rock that jutted up from the floor. She kept talking as the two men ate their food. "With every day that goes by, I pray for you more and more. Clyde came to the house again this morning, to inquire about you. He said that he had discovered who was behind this attack. He told me they have guards everywhere in the city and that there would be no chance of escaping."
         Elmo spoke quickly. "I still don't think he should know where we are. As much as I love Clyde, the fewer people that know, the better. And besides, Clyde is not one for keeping secrets."
         Jerome, who had been quiet up until this moment, suddenly blurted, "Lydia, will you take me with you outside of this place? At least for a few minutes of fresh air?"
         Lydia looked questioningly at Elmo, who said, "I think it may be good for him to be out for a bit. We have been here for quite some time." Elmo knew he could make good use of a few moments alone, to pray and find out what God wanted him to do next.
         As Lydia led Jerome out of the cave, Jerome thought to himself,
I'm really starting to enjoy Lydia's company. She's a very nice person and has something special to her. She reminds me a bit of Mother.
         They were soon out in the spacious gardens. Jerome breathed deeply of the fresh evening air, which had never felt purer to him than it did now. "It is nice to be outside again," Jerome said as he stretched out his arms.
         Lydia watched him with a smile. She had grown to like Jerome more and more, and suspected that he liked her. She only wished he would act more grown up, and not be so much into himself and his own wants. They sat down on a nearby rock and began to talk. Jerome could hardly keep his eyes from staring deep into hers, and for a while, he was silent.
         "What's wrong?" Lydia questioned.
         "Nothing's wrong. I'm just thinking about you and I." Jerome turned to Lydia and held her hands in his. "Lydia, I love you and enjoy your company. I think you're a wonderful person and sometimes I think you like me. But there's something about me that bothers you, I can tell. What is it, Lydia? I want to know because I want you to feel for me how I feel for you."
         Lydia spoke softly. "I don't know how to say this. I don't think it's something all these other girls would think, like Chloe. They like you the way you are." Lydia slid her hands away from Jerome, and continued. "I do like you, Jerome, and I think very highly of you. It's just that sometimes I wish that you would be a little bit more concerned about life and those around you. You seem to resent being a Christian. It seems to me that you want to live as the rich do, reveling in their frivolous pleasures. But Jerome, that won't make you happy. I have everything, like you did when you were younger. When you're young, life is easy, and these things seem to make you happy, but when you begin to see the injustice and the hate, the callousness and the deceit, the indifference and the misery of those around you oh Jerome, it's so empty! I hate the riches. I hate the ease and the pleasure. I would give it all up. Oh Jerome, can't you see the true riches that you have?"
         Jerome looked away, trying to control himself.
She has everything she wants, but she'd give it all up? I don't understand. He looked deep into her eyes and for a moment it seemed as if their souls had locked together.
         Slowly they leaned closer to each other, their lips about to touch and unite their feelings of love in a passionate embrace, when suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, Chloe walked up.
         "Oh, hello!" she began, seemingly oblivious to the meaningful moment she had just interrupted. "One of your servants let me in, Lydia, and told me that I might find you here in the garden. And Jerome," she said, turning to face him, "I've been searching for you everywhere. It's a good thing I stopped by."
         Jerome let go of Lydia and stood up. "Why were you looking for me?"
         "One of my friends is having a party tonight, and I wanted to invite you along."
         "I don't think I can " Jerome began, but Chloe cut him off.
         "Oh, don't give me that nonsense. Of course you can come. You're not afraid, are you--afraid that you might fall in love with me?"
         Jerome didn't feel like answering that question.
         Chloe walked off. "I'll be waiting for you outside--go ahead, finish what you were doing."
         Jerome turned to look at Lydia.
         "Go ahead, go with her," she said. "There's nothing you can do about it now."
         "I'm sorry," Jerome managed to mutter. "Tell my father that I didn't mean for this to happen. Tell him that I love him, and that I'll be back as soon as I possibly can."
         "Jerome," Lydia added, with one last look into his eyes, "think about what I said, won't you?"
         "Yes, Lydia, I'll try to understand. I love you."
         Jerome walked off to meet Chloe, who was nonchalantly
* waiting for him.
         "So where have you been, Jerome?"
         "Around," he answered evasively.
         "Oh, it's a secret, huh? In Lydia's room, perhaps?" she remarked.
         "No, actually--though I would have liked to be." The last comment seemed to quiet Chloe, at least for a little while. She decided not to bring up the topic again.
* * *
         Adrian had just returned from his trip out of town, and was downstairs talking with Lydia. "So, my daughter, what has happened?"
         "A lot, Father, and I will tell you all. But firstly, Jerome has gone with Chloe."
         "Why? How? What happened?"
         "Well, Jerome and I were talking in the garden " Adrian looked up as she said the 'in the garden' part, but let her continue. "Then suddenly Chloe appeared and invited Jerome to a party. Jerome wasn't sure what to do, but Chloe insisted that he come--and so he went with her."
         "But why? Jerome is being looked for. Doesn't he realize that?"
         "Father, Jerome would have done anything to get out of that cave. I guess he didn't mind taking that risk. Besides," she said, as she lowered her eyes, "I don't think he wanted to turn her down."
         "And what of Elmo, does he know?"
         "Yes. He said that God had told him Jerome would be gone for a while, but that he would return a wiser, more mature man."
         "I pray God he does. But how did Chloe get in without your knowledge?"
         "She told one of the servants I was expecting her, and they let her in."
         "I hope Jerome is wise," Adrian finally said. "This could get us all into a lot of trouble."
         "Oh, Father!" Lydia said with tears in her eyes. "I love Jerome. You can't let him die. Please, Father, isn't there something you can do?"
         "I'm afraid not, my dear."
         As they were talking, a servant rushed in. "Sir, a messenger from Marcellus is here to see you."
         "Marcellus?" Lydia blurted out.
        
Oh no! Adrian thought, He must know.
         The messenger came in and handed Adrian a sealed message. "I have been instructed to wait for a reply," the messenger said.
         Adrian opened the message, which read:

To the noble Senator Adrian,
         What a great delight it is to have you back from your unexpected journey. I must confess, I was rather worried to hear you had left. Not because I was concerned for your safety, for I know you are a capable man, but because I knew if you were away it would be longer before I could find Elmo.
         Does it shock you that I say this, Adrian? We both know that you know the whereabouts of Elmo, and his son, for that matter, the mention of which you have taken great care to avoid. But you would be wise to let me know. I do not wish to think of you as my enemy, but if you hide the enemies of the state, then I have no choice but to consider you such.
         Signed by my own hand,
         Marcellus

         Adrian crumbled the letter and told the messenger, "I have no answer for Marcellus!"
         "But sir, my master will not let me return without an answer."
         "Then find yourself another master," Adrian bellowed, and walked away. Lydia followed him.
* * *
         The party at Chloe's friend's residence was coming to a close, and Jerome and Chloe were walking in the garden.
         "You can spend the night at my house, if you'd like, Jerome, since yours is so far away from here."
         "My house is " Jerome caught himself, and stopped, not knowing what else to say.
         "Your house is what?"
         "I really don't think I should stay at your house. Your parents might not like it."
         "My parents stay in another house on the other side of our estate. They won't even have to see you."
         That was all Jerome needed to hear, because he was in fact eager to stay with Chloe. He just had to be certain that her father wouldn't be around. Chloe's house wasn't very far, but before they reached it, Jerome thought he saw Lydia.
         "Is that Lydia coming?" Jerome asked, stopping for a better look.
         "Oh Jerome, must you always be thinking of Lydia? Why not think of me and the fun we're going to have tonight?"
         But it was Lydia--Jerome could hear her calling him, and he ran to see her, leaving Chloe standing behind him.
         "What are you doing out here by yourself this late at night?" Jerome asked when he reached Lydia.
         Lydia ignored the question and, in an urgent tone of voice, whispered, "Jerome, I've come to warn you. Marcellus is behind all this. He is looking for you and your father. You can't go with her!"
         Jerome's eyes fell. "But I will not let Marcellus see me. I can't go back with you, not to that that hole."
         Lydia felt hurt that he didn't want her help. "Call it a hole if you want to, Jerome, but we are trying our best to save your lives. And if that's all you can say in return, then maybe it's better that I leave you to fend for yourself." She tried to hold back her tears. "Maybe you'll find this great world you imagine out here isn't so great after all!" With that, Lydia started running back home.
         "Lydia," Jerome called after her. "Lydia, please! I'm sorry. I'll listen." Jerome turned around to see Chloe walking up to him.
         "Is she leaving you?" Chloe asked, a tone of mock sympathy in her voice. "Did I make her jealous?"
         "She has no reason to be jealous of you," Jerome retorted.
         "Oh yes she does--I have you!"
         "You do not have me! I'm only walking with you."
         Chloe didn't like that. "So tell me, what did you say to make her so upset?"
         "That's none of your business--or is it?"
         "Oh Jerome, don't get cross with me just because you've lost Lydia. Look at the bright side. Now there's nothing holding you back from being with me."
         Jerome suddenly grew quiet, as he thought the situation over.
If I go with Chloe, she'll give me everything I want. I can be popular and have fun, and lots of money. The only problem is Marcellus. If he sees me, what will I say about my father? But I'm sure Chloe has ways of dealing with him. Perhaps this is all for the better. Maybe Chloe can get us all out of this mess.
         He was jolted back to reality by Chloe's voice, and her hand caressing his back. "So, are you coming with me, or are you going to stay here all night and think of the woman you won't get?"
         Jerome hesitated a moment or two, as he made his final decision. "I'll go with you," he answered resolutely
*.
* * *
         A week had passed and Adrian continued to receive threatening letters from Marcellus. Jerome never returned to Adrian's house, but was still staying with Chloe, albeit in secret.
         One morning Marcellus showed up at Adrian's house with a band of soldiers. "We have orders to search the house!" Marcellus stated brusquely.
         "And you, Adrian," Marcellus continued, "are to be summoned before the emperor and his council, that we may see where your loyalties lie. Then we shall see what will become of you."
         The soldiers searched the entire house, but found nothing. After two hours they left, but Marcellus, refusing to give up, stayed to continue the search. After the third hour he, too, gave up, but promised that he would return.
         Never in his life had Adrian felt so frightened. He went down to see Elmo. "Elmo, Marcellus and his soldiers have just searched the house for you. They have left now, but I have been summoned before the emperor. Please help me. I'm scared. I'm worried that I'll make a mistake and hurt someone. Nero has never had a reason to doubt my loyalty, but when he finds out I am a Christian, as he now undoubtedly will, he'll be fuming."
         Elmo spoke slowly and deliberately
*. "Do not fear, Adrian. Our Lord Jesus will be with you. He has promised to give you a mouth and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to gainsay nor resist. Just think of Jesus and what He had to go through--the pain, the torture, the betrayal. But He suffered that we might be saved. We must be willing to go through anything for Christ, though our suffering will only be a small portion of what He has suffered for us."
         Adrian remained quiet, reflecting on the words of his friend. Would he be willing to go through pain, torture, condemnation, and even death for what he believed?
         After a few long moments, Adrian spoke again. "I pray God will grant me the courage and the peace you have, Elmo. I hope I will not fail the One Who has given me so much."
         The door to the secret room suddenly burst open. The two men turned at the same instant and were both shocked to see Jerome standing there. Elmo could hardly believe his eyes. "Jerome!" he exclaimed. "How good it is to see you!"
         Adrian was suspicious, but managed to grunt a greeting.
         "What have you come for?" Elmo asked. "Tell us what has happened."
         "I just came to see how you are doing, Father. I have been worried about you," he said meekly.
         "And I no less about you, Jerome."
         Adrian felt rather out of place, and excused himself to tell Lydia that Jerome was back.
         Jerome continued talking. "Father, I sure have been enjoying myself, just like I wanted to."
         "I see," Elmo answered somewhat sadly, trying to sound interested despite his disappointment.
         "I've been staying with Chloe, and learning to fight from one of Marcellus' bodyguards. He says I'm doing very well, and that I'm a fast learner. I've been going to parties every night, and am gaining respect and popularity."
         Elmo listened quietly, not wanting to dampen his son's enthusiasm. Finally Jerome asked, "Have you heard anything more of our family?"
         Elmo looked distraught, and answered in a broken voice, "Yes. They and the others are to face the lions in the arena within a few days."
         Jerome's face became downcast as Elmo continued speaking. "Jerome, would you do one thing for me? I cannot leave this place, it is too dangerous. But can you get into the jail and see my children--your brothers and sisters? Give them my love, and tell them not to lose hope. Tell them that they must always remember what Jesus said, that if they persecuted Him, they would also persecute us. But tell them that Jesus has promised that He is with us always, even unto the end of the world, and that we shall receive an hundredfold in the life to come. Remind them that whosoever believeth in Him shall never die. Please, Jerome, will you tell them that? And " Elmo looked away as tears welled up in his eyes, "tell them goodbye for me."
         Jerome could hardly look into his father's face as tears rolled down his cheeks, but he managed to promise that he would do what he could.
         Jerome left the cave and found Lydia waiting for him. "Jerome," she said in a straight voice, "I want to apologize for the way I acted the last time I saw you. It wasn't very Christian of me. I didn't mean to hurt or upset you in any way. It is just that I was concerned about you."
         "Oh, that's fine, Lydia. You know " Jerome wanted to continue talking with Lydia but she obviously wasn't in the mood for it. All she had needed to hear was that Jerome had forgiven her. Then she turned, and swiftly walked off. Jerome didn't know if he had offended her or if she was just busy. Whatever the case, he somehow needed to get into the jail, and he would probably need Chloe's help.
         It wasn't long before Jerome found Chloe again. They had become good friends by now, though Jerome still liked Lydia better, and hadn't hesitated to make that clear to Chloe.
         As soon as Chloe saw him, she said, "Jerome, where on earth have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."
         "Chloe, I need your help. Can you get into the jail where the Christians are kept?"
         "I can go anywhere I want. But to see Christians? How unromantic. Why would you want to go there?"
         "I just found out that one of my friends is a Christian, and that he has been taken away."
         "So? Why even bother?" she answered with a look of disgust on her face.
         "Because he's a friend," Jerome replied, feeling a little uncomfortable, as he always did when Chloe was so blatant about her disdain for Christians. "Wouldn't you do the same for your friends?"
         "Oh, all right then. Come on, let's go."
         As they headed to the palace prison, Chloe began to ask Jerome questions. "So, what do you think of Christianity?"
         Jerome hesitated, not quite knowing what to say. "I don't think about it much. I guess it's all right. It has good morals, and seems pretty easy to live up to, providing one's not living in Rome," he finally muttered.
         "I don't think I've ever met any Christians, so I don't know much about them. My father tells me that they follow some strange teachings that don't make any sense."
         "Shows how much he knows," Jerome retorted.
         "Jerome, are you a Christian? My father says that your father is a Christian leader, and they've been trying to find him, but that even Elmo's servant, who is helping my father in his search, doesn't know where he is now."
        
Clyde? Jerome thought, looking at Chloe with astonishment.
         "Well, here we are now," she suddenly said, not even noticing that Jerome had not yet answered her question.
         Jerome and Chloe walked over to the main guard. After using much manipulation
*, Chloe managed to persuade the guard to let them in.
         Soon they reached the hall that led to the large room where the Christians were being held.
         "You can stay outside, Chloe. I'll go in alone," Jerome told Chloe.
         "But I'd like to see your friend--I wouldn't mind meeting a real Christian."
         "Well, just let me talk to him first, and then you can come in."
         By the time Jerome reached the front bars, word had been passed around that someone was there to see Elmo's children, and Jerome's brothers and sisters eagerly came to the front, where they tearfully greeted their brother through the iron bars. It was a painful moment, but Jerome passed on Elmo's message. His brothers and sisters, in turn, gave Jerome words of love and encouragement to pass on to their father.
         "Tell him that we are fine and well, and in the care of the Lord, and the loving brethren who are imprisoned here with us," they said. Jerome was deeply touched by their words of faith, and couldn't hold back his own tears.
         Then Jerome got one of his brothers to act as his friend so that Chloe could come and meet him. But they did not have long before the guard told them to move along.
         "You've been here long enough," he ordered gruffly, and with that, Jerome, sorely shaken, left the room, following close behind Chloe, who had grown uncharacteristically quiet, and seemed all too eager to leave.
* * *
         As soon as he could, Jerome made his way back to Adrian's house. He had messages to pass on to his father, and he also desperately wanted to see Lydia again.
         Jerome soon found out, however, that Lydia was not there, and no one seemed to know where she was.
         Just as Jerome was heading to the secret entrance by the pond, Adrian met up with him. "No, don't go down there!"
         "Why not? I have a message for my father."
         "Marcellus and his men will be here any moment to take me. And besides," Adrian said, shifting his gaze away from Jerome, "your father is not there anymore."
         "Where is he?"
         "I don't know. He left, along with Lydia."
         But Adrian did know. In fact, he had arranged another place of refuge, and Lydia was at that very moment taking Elmo there. Claudia refused to leave the house, but insisted on staying with Adrian for as long as she possibly could. Elmo had instructed Adrian not to tell Jerome of his location. The time had come for Jerome to learn to stand on his own, Elmo had said.
         Jerome sat down on the edge of the pond. "But why would father leave so suddenly--and without me?" he thought aloud. He did not have long to wait for the answer.
         At that very moment, Marcellus appeared in the doorway, accompanied by two armed guards. Jerome looked questioningly at Adrian, and Adrian answered with a smile, "My time has come, Jerome. I've made my decision."
         "Ah, Jerome, we meet again!" Marcellus greeted him. "The whole city's been looking for your father. Perhaps you know where he is?"
         "Actually, I don't," Jerome answered glibly. "I've been trying to find him myself."
         "Ah, but Chloe told me you came here looking for Lydia. Have you then found her?"
         "Obviously not."
         "So is it perhaps that Lydia knows where your father is? If she does, she could of course tell you!"
         "Why makes you think Lydia knows where my father is?"
         "Come on, Jerome. We all know she's a Christian. In fact, we know you are, too, but my daughter seems attracted to you--I have no idea why--and for her sake, I will not harm you--just yet. But watch yourself, young man. Your day will come soon enough. I can assure you of that!"
         As Marcellus led Adrian out the door, followed by the two guards, Jerome suddenly realized that Adrian would not be coming back. He also realized the very precarious situation he was now in himself. Disappointed and frustrated, Jerome sat down and thought about his life.
My father is hidden away, probably in some little hole. Lydia is gone--although she probably wouldn't speak to me if she was here anyway. Adrian is going off to prison, and I am left by myself.
         Claudia rushed up to Jerome. She had tears in her eyes. "Adrian my husband they've taken him. Oh, what shall I do?"
         Jerome was too depressed to answer, so they both just sat there.
         After a long silence, Claudia spoke. "Jerome, please stay here. I don't think I could stand to be left alone at a time like this."
         "Yes, I'll stay." Jerome felt good being around another Christian for a change.
* * *
         The trip to the imperial palace had never seemed so long to Adrian. He remained silent the entire time, despite Marcellus' taunting. He was worried, and didn't know what he would say. Almost as soon as they had arrived, they were admitted into the emperor's presence.
         "Ah, my good Senator Adrian, it's been a long while, hasn't it?"
         Adrian bowed respectfully. "Yes, it has, your excellency."
         "Adrian, I have heard troubling rumors about you, so I brought you here to confirm that they are lies."
         Nero, whose main motive for persecuting Christians was one of convenience rather than of hate, was not eager to condemn a member of the senate. He was sincerely hoping that the rumors of Adrian's conversion had been false, and that Adrian would declare his innocence, and affirm his loyalty to the emperor and the gods of Rome. However, if he did not, Nero would have no choice but to condemn him for treason according to his own decree.
         Adrian looked around the room. It was filled with counselors and nobles.
They look like they are ready to believe anything. If I deny being a Christian, they would likely take my word for it, Adrian thought, but then quickly pushed the thought away. No, I cannot do that. How can I turn my back on the One Who has done so much for me? I would never be able to live with myself.
         He was jolted from his thoughts by Nero's distinctive voice. "So, Adrian, it has been said that you are part of this subversive sect of rabble who call themselves Christians. Is this true?"
         After a moment of silence, Adrian finally and solemnly answered, "It is."
         Some of the counselors winced, and others shook their heads. Nero rose to his feet, and flew into an angry rage. "After all I've done for you! How can you do this to me? You, Adrian, whom I have showered with gifts and praise, money, slaves, and position. Is this how you repay my kindness?--With treachery?"
         Nero slumped back down into his throne, and stared at Adrian in disbelief. "Do you have nothing to say to me?"
         "Nothing that you would want to hear, Nero. I mean no treason toward you, and I have always considered myself a loyal citizen of Rome. But I cannot deny that I am a Christian. All you have given me, Nero, I gladly renounce for the One Who gave His life for me. I only wish you could understand, and come to know this love too."
         Nero's face grew as hard as it was indifferent. "Are you trying to make a Christian out of me, Adrian? I hear you Christians believe in a better life after this one. No, Adrian, I shall make a better Christian out of you. I hereby sentence you to die with your people. Now go!! Get out of my presence! You are a disgrace to the Roman Empire. By the gods, let me never see your face again!"
         The guards then led Adrian away to the prison where the Christians were kept, and threw him in with all the others.
* * *
         Elmo and Lydia were far from the city now. They had left early in the morning to a small and distant villa in the country. Adrian had only acquired it recently, and had told no one about it, until now. Since Adrian knew he would most likely not be returning, he had told Lydia where it was, and that they would be safe there. It was not without many tears that Lydia had said goodbye to her father.
         As distressed as Lydia was, Elmo managed to keep her mind both occupied and distracted by his conversation. Elmo told Lydia all about their life, how Jerome had been brought up, and how they had lost all they had. Finally Lydia realized what Jerome was going through, and by the time they reached the villa, Lydia felt like she could understand Jerome a lot better. "I've been so unwise," she said. "I never once put myself in his place or tried to understand him."
         "It's not your fault," Elmo said in an attempt to encourage her. "You didn't know; in fact, there is much that he still does not know."
         Lydia was silent.
I hope I didn't hurt him, she thought. She wished she could go back and talk with Jerome, but she knew that wasn't possible. "He must be so alone and lost without you to counsel with," she finally said.
         "He needs to learn," Elmo answered. "Besides, he's getting a taste of what he's always wanted to experience. He has no one to blame but himself if he's miserable."
         Lydia agreed, and decided it wouldn't do any good to worry or to condemn herself.
         "I will write a letter to Jerome," Elmo said. "I have much to tell him, and I do not know when I shall see him again. Can you write, Lydia?"
         "I will write as you speak."
         "To my blessed son, Jerome. How I miss you. I often think back to the fun that we used to have together. Being away from you, and not knowing when or if I will ever see you again, has caused me to think about you a great deal, to reflect on the times we spent together, and on the past. It seems that God has willed that we be separated for a time, and I pray that He will keep you safe in His hands. I am sorry that you could no longer stay with me, and I'm sorry if I have made life difficult for you in any way. I tried to do what was best.
         "I guess I just did not understand you, or make enough effort to. I know that you have reasons for what you have chosen to do, reasons that may seem legitimate to you. I am sorry that you feel I have not been the father that you needed, especially after the loss of your mother. I know she meant a lot to you, as she did to me.
         "There is something I must tell you, Jerome. I have not spoken of this to you before, and I hope you will understand why. But now that I do not know if or when I will see you again, I feel that the time has come for me to tell you what really happened.
         "You know your mother was a very beautiful woman; she was desired by many. It is still a wonder to me that I had the privilege to call her my wife, and to care for her. Marcellus and I were boyhood friends; we liked the same things, so it was no surprise that we liked the same girl. It became a game for us to see who would get her attention.
         "But the game abruptly ended when she consented to marry me. Marcellus was furious, and refused to talk to me after that. Of course, he did not keep
that promise, but after that day we were never more friends. Marcellus swore that he would take revenge one day.
         "Years passed, and there was constant competition between us to see who would gain the most power, respect, and influence. Then came the fateful day that Marcellus discovered we were meeting with the Christians. He then had a legitimate reason to remove us from our position. I was banished from the Senate, and my rank, salary and properties were taken away. Well, you know what happened after that. We rebuilt our lives as well as we could, and as the years passed, most people forgot about us, and the whole incident.
         "As we struggled to get back on our feet and to survive, we never heard from Marcellus, so I figured that he had forgotten about us as well. I was wrong. I did not know that his desire for revenge ran as deep as it did. One day I came home and discovered your mother was gone. Marcellus had finally gotten the revenge he most wanted to take, and it dawned on me that I would never see my beloved wife again.
         "The truth is, your mother did not die of sickness. Marcellus had persuaded the emperor to declare her the daughter of a slave. As such, she became the property of the state, and the emperor could do with her as he pleased. I was never allowed to find out what became of her, and I never did. But I knew that you children would not understand this, or why I could do nothing about it. You see, Marcellus was a powerful man by this time, and somehow he also knew all about our dealings with the Christians. He warned me that if I tried to take any action against him, many would suffer--and you, my dear children, would have been taken away from me.
         "I am telling you all this, my son, so that you may know the truth of what happened. Yet I am trusting you to act as a Christian would, and to trust that God has had His hand upon all these things, even though we may not understand why. I pray that God will lead you, my son, and my thoughts will always be with you. With love, your father, Elmo."

         (
To be continued)

         Definitions included throughout booklet:
         *illustrious: well known; distinguished
         *indulge: yield to the desires and whims of, to an excessive degree
         *senator: member of the supreme council of ancient Rome
         *perturbed: to be disturbed, or made anxious
        
*traipsing: walking or tramping about
        
*indignant: angry
        
*nonchalant: appearing coolly unconcerned or indifferent
        
*resolutely: determined, unwavering
        
*deliberately: with careful consideration, so as to avoid any mistakes
        
*manipulation: trying to influence someone, often by indirect or devious means, into doing something to another's advantage

(End of file)


Copyright (c) 1998 by Aurora Productions