The Empty Grave of Edgar Allan Poe

THE INNOCENT

          He watched them hammer the nails through his hands to pin him to the cross. He stood amid the baying crowd but kept his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. He saw the mother, leaning on the lad for support, weeping at the sight of her son`s torment and his mind went back thirty years.

          He sat on his mother`s knee as she told him the story of that magical night. The town was full of people; strangers had come from everywhere in the land. Bethlehem was bustling, and the streets were filled with the laughter of children. Then one night the shepherds abandoned their flocks and came down from the hills. They told strange tales of angels and messages from heaven. And then the shepherds spoke in hushed whispers of a baby, born that night in a stable. They had seen him lying in a manger, and the angels had told them that he was the Saviour of all mankind. Then there was the wondrous star that hung in the sky above Bethlehem like the very eye of God. It was this star which brought the three wise men from the East. And they each bore gifts fit for a king. One brought myrrh and one brought frankincense and one brought gold.

          At the mention of the gold, his father would take over the telling of the tale. If he`d had gold then they could have fled to Egypt and safety. If he`d had gold then he could have bribed Herod`s men when they came in the night. No one can resist gold. But he had nothing with which to protect his family. He had no gold to offer when they picked up his son. Nothing but tears when they sliced off the baby`s head with one stroke of a sword. A sword already wet and dripping with the blood of countless children.

          And so the story ended with the slaughter of his brother. The brother he had never known. And as his father told the tale, his mother would hold him ever closer, ever tighter, until he could scarcely breathe, and she would rock him back and forth and her eyes would fill with tears. His father hoped another child would work a miracle, would banish the memory and bring some comfort. But it was not to be. A few years after he was born, his mother simply faded away into the silent depths of eternal night. And now the tale began with the gold. And his father spoke of the greed of kings and the vanity of princes and the sufferings of the common man. And the rage of the father infected the son with the dread disease of vengeance.

          Now, he stood beside the high priest, but felt no sense of triumph. He looked at the man nailed to the cross. He had done what his father had meant him to do. His life`s work was over, the job was done, and all he felt was....empty. As they hoisted the cross upright, he dropped the thirty silver coins on the ground and left Golgotha in search of a rope.