Stranger in a Strange Land

“Caught by the fallout, perhaps. She tarried and looked back. Always seemed to me to be too stiff a punishment for the peccadillo of female curiosity. But we were speaking of Lot. Saint Peter describes him as a just, Godly, and righteous man, vexed by the filthy conversation of the wicked. I think we must stipulate Saint Peter to be an authority on virtue, since to him was given the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. But if you search the only records concerning Lot, in the Old Testament, it becomes hard to determine exactly what Lot did or did not do that established him as such a paragon. He divided up a cattle range at his brother’s suggestion. He got captured in a battle. When he was tipped off, he lammed out of town in time to save his skin. He fed and sheltered two strangers overnight but his conduct shows that he knew them to be V.I.P.s whether or not he knew they were angels—and by the Koran and by my own lights, his hospitality would have counted for more if he had thought they were just a couple of unworthy poor in need of a pad and a handout. Aside from these insignificant items and Saint Peter’s character reference, there is just one thing that Lot did mentioned anywhere in the Bible on which we can judge his virtue—virtue so great, mind you, that heavenly intercession saved his life. See chapter nineteen of Genesis, verse eight.”

“And what does it say?”

“Look it up when we get home. I don’t expect you to believe me.”

“Jubal! You’re the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re a very pretty girl and a fair cook, so I don’t mind your ignorance. All right, I’ll tell you—then you look it up anyhow. Some of Lot’s neighbors came and beat on his door and wanted to meet these two blokes from out of town. Lot didn’t fight with them; he offered ’em a deal instead. He had two young daughters, virgins—at least, such was his opinion—and he told this crowd of men that he would give them these two little girls and they could use them any way they liked—a gang shagging, a midnight revue, he pleaded with them to do any damn thing they pleased to his daughters… only please go ’way and quit beating on his door.”

“Jubal… does it really say that?”

“Look it up yourself. I’ve modernized the language but the meaning is as unmistakable as a whore’s wink. Lot offered to let a gang of men—‘young and old,’ the Bible says—abuse two young virgins under his protection if only they wouldn’t break down his door. Say!” Jubal leaned forward and beamed. “Maybe I should have tried that when the S.S. was breaking my door down! Maybe it would have got me into heaven—and Saint Peter knows my chances aren’t too good otherwise.” Then he frowned and looked worried. “No, it wouldn’t have worked. The recipe plainly calls for ‘virgins intactae’—and I wouldn’t have known which two of you gals to offer those troopers.”

“Hmmph! You won’t find out from me.”

“Possibly I couldn’t find out from any of you. Even Lot might have been mistaken. But that’s what he promised ’em—his virgin daughters, young and tender and scared—urged this street gang to rape them as much as they wished in any way they liked … if only they would leave him in peace?” Jubal snorted in disgust. “And the Bible cites this sort of scum as being a righteous man.”

Jill said slowly, “I don’t think that’s quite the way we were taught it in Sunday School.”

“Damn it, look it up! They probably gave you a Bowdlerized version. That’s not the only shock in store for anybody who actually reads the Bible. Consider Elisha. It says here that Elisha was so all-fired holy that merely touching his bones restored a dead man to life. But he was a baldheaded old coot, like myself. So one day some children made fun of his baldness, just as you girls do. So God personally interceded and sent two bears to tear forty-two small children into bloody bits. That’s what it says—second chapter of Second Kings.”

“Boss, I never make fun of your bald head.”