John followed Amun and the other men back to the camp's main building. He was shown the kitchen and told to build a fire in the stone ovens. Though he had never cooked or done any women's work before, he knew how to build a fire. That was easy!

The small, windowless kitchen was dark and cool compared to the warm outdoors. John was eager to get the fire going. He was hungry.

"Why did Amun choose me to do this kitchen work, instead of Jesus?" John asked himself. "I could help Mirium in the garden." He would have preferred that. Was she happy with her father's selection? Surely, she would prefer someone strong to help her. Maybe she preferred someone less threatening, or another girl. Same thing.

During the Smai Tawi practice he'd kept an eye on Mirium as performed the movements. She moved more gracefully and fluidly than any girl he'd met. Her body was strong and solid -- not 'girly' at all. She did not wear flowers or ribbons in her hair. Nor did she wear makeup or jewelry as the well off women of Nazareth did. She was actually more like a boy than Jesus. John chuckled to himself at the comparison.

He thought of her sweaty body and heavy breath during the morning exercise. He recalled exposed breasts and the thin robe clinging to her thighs when she arched her back in the camel pose. He became aroused by the memory, and his loins began to stir. He forced himself to focus on building the fire instead. He would replay those visions later when he was alone and could truly enjoy them.

Just then, Amun poked his head into the small room. "Have you started the fire yet son? It takes some time to be hot enough to bake bread. Our people are hungry!"

Startled by the unexpected intrusion, John dropped the stack of branches he was holding to the floor.

"Sorry, it's almost ready, sir. Sorry, sorry!" he quickly gathered up the sticks and crammed them into the hearth.

Amun walked through the dark room, carrying a small oil lamp. He shared the flame with another lamp hanging in the corner. The room brightened a little but it was still quite dim. He stood by patiently, waiting for John to finish stacking the wood.

"Use this flame to light the fire," he said. "Be careful not to burn yourself."

"When I light the ovens, I pray for guidance from the goddess Sekhmet. With the Lady of Light as your guide, you will build a proper fire. It was she who brought fire to the world so that we may see in the dark to study the Law. And so that we may prepare food and make bread for sustenance," Amun mused aloud.

John had never heard of the Lady before. Must be an Egyptian thing he thought. Some foreign magic that he should be wary of. However, he did not want to challenge his host, by voicing an opinion about such blasphemy.

He closed his eyes and prayed silently to the One True God. The flame ignited the dry wood branches quickly. It seems the Lord's assistance was just as good as Sekmet's, he thought.

"Now that you have mastered fire, you can move on to the next divine element we need, water." He gestured toward some large clay jars in the corner of the room. "Fill these jars with water from the well. Do you remember where it is, near the caves where we bathed? Draw enough water to fill all the pots on the stove. It will take several trips. Hurry now. We want to eat today. I will take over the oven duty for now."

Amun smiled and looked down at John. There was something about his tone that left John feeling like a little slave boy and he did not appreciate the feeling.

Two jars were all John could carry at a time. Their curved teardrop shape did not make them easy to handle. The jars were heavy to begin with. They would be heavier still when full of water.

He followed a well worn path toward the caves. Up ahead, he saw Mirium and Jesus emerge from the woman's bath cave, heading toward him.

What were they doing in there? The vegetable gardens were in the opposite direction; on the East side of the encampment.

The two of them appeared to be having a good time as they walked together. They were even holding hands and laughing. That was fast, John thought jealously.

He crouched behind a big rock, waiting for them to pass. He did not want to encounter them like this. He felt alone; left out of their special club.

(End of Chapter 29)