Musing #103 - "Troubles of a Hog Farmer"

Hello all! Happy Thursday. :-) I've been hard at work on my NaNoWriMo project (more on that later), but, as promised, here is your short story for the week. It's called Troubles of a Hog Farmer and is written from the POV of one of the pig-herders from Mark 5:1-20. Below I've copied the passage after which it is based - I recommend reading through that before tackling Troubles of a Hog Farmer.
Enjoy!


Mark 5:1-20

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes.^{[a] 2} And when Jesus^[b] had stepped out of the boat, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit. ³ He lived among the tombs. And no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain, ⁴ for he had often been bound with shackles and chains, but he wrenched the chains apart, and he broke the shackles in pieces. No one had the strength to subdue him. ⁵ Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out and cutting himself with stones. ⁶ And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and fell down before him. ⁷ And crying out with a loud voice, he said, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” ⁸ For he was saying to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” ⁹ And Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion, for we are many.” ¹⁰ And he begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country. ¹¹ Now a great herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, ¹² and they begged him, saying, “Send us to the pigs; let us enter them.” ¹³ So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the pigs; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the sea.

¹⁴ The herdsmen fled and told it in the city and in the country. And people came to see what it was that had happened. ¹⁵ And they came to Jesus and saw the demon-possessed^[c] man, the one who had had the legion, sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, and they were afraid. ¹⁶ And those who had seen it described to them what had happened to the demon-possessed man and to the pigs. ¹⁷ And they began to beg Jesus^[d] to depart from their region. ¹⁸ As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed with demons begged him that he might be with him. ¹⁹ And he did not permit him but said to him, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” ²⁰ And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him, and everyone marveled.

Troubles of a Hog Farmer

Snort, snort.
            I open one sleepy eye. “Not again,” I moan to the muddy pig before me. In reply, the smelly, dirty animal utters another low snort and noses at my boots. I lift up a foot and gently nudge him away. “Aw, I’ll have to clean you up soon enough. Get out o’ here.”
            With a squeal, the pig scurries off and rejoins the rest of the herd, curly tail twitching.
            A heavy sigh escapes my lips, and I slump onto a nearby rock. My hands clench my wooden staff tight. It’s all I can do to not nod back off to sleep again. Yawning, I stuff a fist in my eye. I really should’ve slept at least a little last night.
            Oh, well. That’s what comes about when one’s wife is delivering their first baby and the labor lasts from sunset to dawn . . . and when one’s boss is too hard-hearted to not give the new father a day off work. “No work, no pay at all,” Joseph Kazier had grumbled.
            Fine, I grouch to myself now. It’s only for a few more hours. Another thought makes me brighten. I sit up straight and smile. Then I can spend all the time I want with my beautiful wife and son.
            Knowing my wife is in good hands also makes the burden easier –
            “Hey, Amos.”

A nudge to my shoulder jerks me from my musings. I spin around. “What?”

“Look.” Without making eye contact, my friend and fellow pig-herder, Tyler Slutz, gestures forward – in the direction of the sea and – I gulp – the caves where corpses and a creepy demoniac loom. I shiver, and again the word slips through, “What?”

“See that boat?”

I squint, and – yes, yes, I do see that boat! But – “So what?” I shrug and allow my gaze to drift back to the pigs. One is nosing away from the group. I poke him back with my staff.

What’s so exciting about an ol’ boat, no doubt carrying passengers who –

“What’s that boat doing here?” Tyler isn’t about to give up. He plops down beside me, his robes billowing up then lying flat. “Isn’t it an odd place for visitors to take time to see?”

I lift my shoulders in another shrug. “They probably got lost.”

“Maybe so,” says Tyler, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

Suddenly, a man – the man – the one who casts shivers in the spine of any who are near, the one who wears no clothes, just a garment of blood, the one who is possessed by demons, comes forward, screaming, crying, gnashing his teeth. I clutch at my staff so tight I fear my fingers will break. My knuckles pop.

The man throws himself down on the shore, hollering for all he is worth. His long, strangled pieces of hair flow about his face, adding to his eerie look. I know that, should he turn, we would be given a look we wouldn’t soon forget – one of evil, of hate, of wretchedness to the very core. I swallow. Why isn’t that boat turning around? Don’t those people see what they’re in for?

Apparently not.

I get to my feet, all sleepiness forgotten. “Tyler,” I hiss from the corner of my mouth, “be prepared to run.”

And then I gulp, for I realize that Tyler is very prepared to run. The herd he’s in care of adds up to no more than twenty of these stinkin’ pigs. My herd . . . well, that’s a different story. More like two thousand. The very thought of pushing and prodding all these animals down the hill . . . is a nightmare. I’m stuck.

I’m pulled from my dismal thoughts as the boat is brought upon shore and a man climbs down. A man unlike any I’ve seen. His clothes are much like my own – a coarse robe the color of the sapphire sky above, a headdress that drapes his back – but his face. His face shines with warmth, with kindness. Not a drop of fear shows.

But there is some anger flashing from his eyes. Why?

“Flee from this man, all you filthy spirits!” the man orders, countenance drawn, hands clenched.

“Why are you here and associating with me, you Son of the Most High God? I plead with you - do not bother me!” cry the spirits from within the demoniac.

“Who are you?” the man from the boat asks.

“Legion, for there are an abundant of spirits within me,” he answers. “But please, please, do not send these spirits out of the country. Show them mercy!”

“Allow us to enter those pigs that are grazing not far from here,” add the demons.

Wait, what?

“Yes, do so,” the man consents.

With that, the demons lurch forward, surging toward my pigs – surging towards me. I gasp and stumble backwards, almost tripping over the stone upon which I’d just been sitting. My staff digs into the ground as I work to catch my balance. My head spins.

Tyler flees.

All of the sudden, the pigs before me are snorting, squealing, and jostling at one another in a wild, frightening way. They dash for the sea. I’m scared of the possessed animals, and I do not desire in the least to go after them. But what would I do if –

Splash!

Every one of those two thousand pigs plummeted into the sea. “How?” the cry leaks from my lips almost with realization.

The water laps and foams from the abrupt disturbance, and splashes of the murky-colored liquid shoot up, forming into puddles on land.

Just like that, my job, my money, my everything – gone.

And yet, not a worry crosses my mind. It’s as if I hardly even saw it happen. No desperation tugging at my heartstrings, no thoughts of, How can I support my family now? Just complete, utter awe at the miracle I’d witnessed.

This man. Who could he be?

Immediately, it hits me: Jesus. The talk of the town. The miracle-worker.

It is He.

I turn my attention back to Jesus and the man He’s healed. The once-creepy demoniac sits before Him, fully clothed and seemingly in his right mind.

I drop my staff and plough towards town. This news needs to be spread!

***

“You did what?”

I cringe. It’s obvious Boss Kazier isn’t going to take this news well. Will he even believe what I tell him?

Probably not, but it’s worth a try.

“I lost your pigs,” I repeat in a clear, strong voice. “But, sir, it’s completely not of my own doing. Wait until you hear . . .”

And then I proceed to flood his ears with the whole story, my heart warming with each word. I still can’t grab hold of the fact that I was there for it all.

My master, however, appears unfazed. Unbelieving. “Hmph!” he snorts. “A likely story.”

“But it’s true,” I insist. “Ask anyone who was there. Ask – ask the demoniac!”

“You’re telling me you lost two thousand pigs and to ask a guy possessed by demons how it happened?” He shakes his head. “No. Consider yourself fired, young man.”

Without giving me time to offer further explanation, he shoves me from his home, slamming the door shut after me – but not before whispering these words, “You will pay for those pigs, Amos. Every last one of them.” And then the lock clicks in the doorframe, and I’m alone.

But I’m not unhappy. Not in the least. Digging my sandaled heels into the dusty road, I head at full-speed for my own home. My wife will understand. She’ll wonder, same as I did. And she’ll believe.

Jesus is real. Jesus is real.

The thought chants itself in my head with every footfall. In spite of the trouble that surrounds me, a smile tugs at my lips.

If Jesus can heal a man with demons, I know He can provide me with another job.

My used-to-be boss may not yet believe my story, but that’s all right. After all, it doesn’t depend on me to work on him.

I’ll leave that to Jesus.