Chapter 12 Chapter Eleven

Alisa returned with her father, and the sheep went before them.I watched them go all the way, and those sheep were like a lot of hairballs rolling across the grassland.Joram walked steadily behind, stretching out the shepherd's hook from time to time to drive stray sheep back into the flock.Alisa ran around like a collie, waving her hat and letting her dress flow behind her.I don't have the slightest idea of ​​shepherds, so I don't know if Alisa is helping or making trouble.But the girl's animated movement brought a smile to her father's dark eyes, so Joram just let her do it.

The relief in Joram's eyes faded, and finally disappeared altogether—he was staring at me intently. The sheep rush past me, bringing thick woolly moisture—it rained just now in that foothills.The constant bleating made any conversation impossible.I stood aside, out of the way for the sheep and out of Joram's work.I felt very uncomfortable, and all I could do was wish I hadn't come. Joram looked me over from head to toe with his eyes as he walked up the hill.When he approached me, I bowed to him.He looked away abruptly, and never glanced at me again.His face was so cold and hard that no one would have noticed a difference had it been exchanged with the granite cliff face opposite me.

He didn't pay attention to me anymore, just busy with his work.This gave me the opportunity to study him, and I am very curious about this protagonist in my biography. At this time Joram was nearly fifty years old.He looked older than his age because of his heavy, brooding countenance.Years of outdoor work and the harsh weather in Simhallen had left his skin a dark brown and wrinkled.His black hair was as thick as his daughter's, but there were many strands of gray in it, especially at the forehead. He was, as Saryon had said, strong, fit, and well-built, and his body was perfectly in line with the standards of an Olympian.It's just that the face has been carved with the lines of too many years, those sad lives-even the happy days can't erase their traces.

He ignored me, wishing sincerely that I would evaporate from his presence.This is not surprising at all.Although he still doesn't know anything about me, I believe he must have guessed the truth-I am the end of Joram. The sheep began to be herded into the sheepfold.Joram got water for them and prepared them for the night.Alisa took her father's callused hands, trying to pull him to me, almost pulling him down.He withdrew his hand, but not very hard, he would never be rough on his beloved baby.But he also made it very clear that there was no way the two of us—he and I—could have any relationship, especially through her.

I can't blame him.I just feel like a sinner, like I did it all.I sympathize with Jorang and feel sorry for him.My presence was doomed to ruin his idyll.And now my eyes are stung by tears. I blinked hastily, pressing back the tears.Joram must have scorned all signs of weakness on my part. "Papa," said Alisa, "he's Reuven, Father Saryon's adopted son. He can't talk, Papa. He can't talk with his mouth, but he can tell stories with his eyes." Alisa gave me a teasing smile.Her smile, her beauty, the blush on her cheeks after a run, her black hair curled up like waves, all of it made me even more restless.Attracted by Alisa, in awe of Joram, overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow, I bowed respectfully and secretly glad to hide my face for a while, for a chance to recover my composure.

It's not easy.Joram didn't send me any greetings.When I looked up, I saw him with his arms folded across his chest, looking at me sullenly, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together. Qiao Lang's cold expression of rejecting people thousands of miles away gradually dimmed the sunshine on his daughter's face.Alisa's voice weakened, and her uncertain eyes moved back and forth between him and me. "Father," she said with mild reproach, "what about your manners? Reuven is our guest, and he came from Earth just to see us. You should welcome him." Alisa didn't understand, she couldn't understand.I raised my hand to signal her to stop talking, then I shook my head slightly.I never took my eyes off Joram.If I can speak with my eyes, as Alisa said, I hope he can read my eyes and understand me.Maybe he really got it.He still didn't speak, just turned around and walked up the stairs along the mountain path.But before he turned around, I saw his frowning brows loosen a little, but there was another layer of sadness on his face.

I guess, anyway, I'd rather he just doesn't like me. Joram walked quickly, taking two or three steps with each step.I was amazed at his stamina, after all the trail leads directly to the top of the hill, and it has at least seventy-five steps.I soon started gasping for breath.Alisa walked beside me the whole time.She was clearly troubled.She didn't speak again, but her eyes kept looking at her father's back. "He really wants to see Father Saryon." Alisa said suddenly.She was apologizing for Joram's rudeness. I nodded, showing that I understood her father.Then I stop, let my breathing slow down, and relax my sore legs.I told her in sign language that I didn't feel offended at all and she didn't have to worry.

She didn't understand me.I took out the tablet and tapped it to show her.She read what I typed and looked at me.I nodded to her, smiled, and reassured her.She tried smiling at me too, but sighed again. "Things will change, won't they, Reuven? Our lives will change, and his life will change." Her eyes returned to her father. "It's all my fault, I've been longing for this day, praying for it to come soon. I didn't expect... oh Dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She gathered her skirt, left me, and strode toward her father.Even if my life depends entirely on this, I can't catch up.But I'm not disappointed by being left behind.I needed time to gather my thoughts, so I just followed them slowly and wearily.

Alisa caught up to her father, and she put her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.Qiao Lang also hugged his daughter lovingly, and gently stroked her curly black hair. They put their arms around each other, climbed side by side, and finally disappeared from my sight. I continued to climb, my strength drained by the pain in my legs and the burning sensation in my chest and lungs.I could hear the sheep bleating from below, bleating contentedly as they huddled together in the safety of their pens, drifting off to sleep at night.In the distance, the rumble of thunder heralds another storm that is about to rage below the mountains.

It occurred to me, what would happen to the sheep if Joram and his family left here?They cannot survive without a shepherd.