Short Story

---Ruth---

Part 1

The lamp post light, at the turning kept flickering. Ruth watched as two-wheelers zoomed past her in the busy Pune-street. The street light lit the bus stop she was sitting at, in between spurts of cold darkness. December in Pune was unbearable.

Ruth got into the red Maruti 800. “Hi mom,” she said dispassionately as she gently closed the door after her. She stifled a yawn as she pulled her safety belt across her and locked it with a click. An awkward silence ensued and no one uttered a word until they got home. Even at the dinner table conversation was kept to a minimum; just a question or two about the day at college followed by a yes and a no.

Ruth got into bed and stayed there until the lights went out. She avoided conversations with her mother. It had been six months since the fateful incident though Ruth had vivid memories of that afternoon. She had been reading The Holy Bible when she heard a loud noise in the driveway. Eyes widened she had run across the hall way only to open the door and freeze for what seemed like an eternity. Ruth had loved her father even though he had been a heavy drinker and beat her mother every other night. She loved her mother too but may be she just loved her father more. Sometimes she wondered if she really loved him or was it just her reaction to his lack of attention toward her. May be she just craved for his love and approval.

It was dark now and Ruth heard her mother’s bed room door shut close. She smiled as she pulled out her red bound Bible from her bag and turned the pages to the Book of Ruth, her favourite. She felt an inexplicable affinity towards this book in the Bible; as if she’d read it somewhere else before. This was Ruth’s favourite time of the day. She loved the silence that the tinkling chimes hanging at her bedroom window occasionally broke. The lacy white curtains danced to the tunes of the cool night breeze and crickets in the garden outside serenaded the beautiful black night.

Ruth 1:16&17

“Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go, your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die – there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!”

******

The sun was beating down on them and they could barely inch forward. “We must stop to drink some water,” said Naomi to her daughter-in-law and so they halted at a near by well. A clay pot lay beside the well and Ruth used it to draw some water. After Naomi and Ruth had refreshed themselves they continued their journey. Bethlehem was still a few miles away and they had to reach there before sun-set.

“Let me go to the field and glean among the ears of grain, behind someone in whose sight I may find favour,” said Ruth to Naomi the following morning. Ruth and her mother-in-law had reached Bethlehem in time for the barely harvest.

As Ruth was busy gathering the grain a tall man with skin as white as milk and rusty-brown eyes spoke to her. “Now listen, my daughter,” he said. Wide-eyed and startled Ruth turned back to face Boaz, a kinsman on Naomi’s husband’s side. Boaz was a prominent God-fearing rich man in the community. Ruth thought that Boaz had a mysterious face; the thick skin furrowed on his forehead and his unkempt beard suggested that he was aggressive, though the rugged look had undertones of kindness that were clearly reflected in his eyes. “Do not glean in another field or leave this one, but keep close to my young women. Keep your eyes on the field that is being reaped, and follow behind them. I have ordered the young men not to bother you. If you get thirsty, go to the vessels and drink from what the young men have drawn.”  

That evening Ruth returned home to her mother-in-law. A cool breeze rustled the leaves of the palm tree in their front yard. Naomi sat on a jute cot puffing on a hookah as Ruth massaged her feet sitting on the cool mud-parapet next to her. The sound of air-bubbles in the hookah jar embellished the silence of the night. “The name of the man with whom I worked today is Boaz,” said Ruth. Naomi stopped puffing.