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Thicker Than Mud
Jason Z. Morris
Thicker Than Mud
Copyright © 2019 Jason Z. Morris. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.
Resource Publications
An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers
199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3
Eugene, OR 97401
www.wipfandstock.com
paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-8724-2
hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-8725-9
ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-8726-6
Manufactured in the U.S.A. October 22, 2019
To my Marilyn, my wife, with all my heart,
and, with immense gratitude, to my parents, Eric and Willa Morris.
Adam digged
—shakespeare, hamlet, act v, scene 1
Acknowledgments
I am truly grateful to my terrific friends, family, and colleagues who offered their support and their insights, who shared their expertise with me, and who read drafts of this book: Frank Boyle, Lenny Cassuto, Christy Coch, Bill Cummings, Joyce Cummings, Anne Hoffman, Karina Martin Hogan, Ben Hollister, Eve Keller, Anna Kruyer, Jillian Leitman, Max Leitman, Karen Lightfoot, Matthew Maguire, Zese Merion, Eric Morris, Marilyn Morris, Nate Morris, Sonia Morris, Willa Morris, Simon Rosenbach, Allison Koweek Schnipper, Michael Scharf, Eden Stevenson, Jon Swartz, Carl Tramontana, and Nancy Tramontana. I am indebted to all of you. I am grateful also to this book’s copy editor, Julie Fifelski, and to all the people at Wipf and Stock who helped bring this book to fruition. I want particularly to thank those doughty souls who read multiple, early drafts: Marilyn, mom, and Karina. Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the students and faculty at Fordham who continue to inspire me with their dedication to learning, teaching, and scholarship, and their work in the service of others.
Chapter 1
The dun-colored sediment of Tel Arad was so dry it was almost powder, and even though Adam dug with slow precision, he was covered in dust. It clung to his work boots and his legs. It coated the roof of his mouth.
The heat pressed on him from below as well as above: as the sun’s rays poured down through the cloudless sky, those that missed Adam’s back caught his face and neck after reflecting off the clay. Adam put down his spade and pulled three water bottles out of his pack. His student Maggie was digging on her knees, her back toward him, so that he could see the map of the Belmont College campus under the Jesuit coat of arms on the back of her t-shirt. Adam had seen the shirt many times over the summer, but he still smiled at the caption: “Because God so loved the Bronx…”
He called out to her, “Maggie, it’s a furnace out here. Take a water break!” He tossed her one of the bottles when she turned to face him. “You should go back to the tent,” he said. “You still have time to grab some lunch and get to the afternoon lecture.”
Maggie glanced at Adam over the wire frame of her sunglasses with a look of perfect resolve. “I’m not afraid of the heat, Professor Drascher,” she said. “We have heat in Puerto Plata, too. And my skin won’t burn. Not as easily as some.” All summer, she had been mocking his twice-a-day slathering on of suntan lotion. “Besides,” she said, “I just know the second I leave, you and Dr. Renaud are going to find something and then I’ll be kicking myself.”
Claudia Renaud sat cross-legged, her notebook and pen on her lap, as she pulled the loose strands of her sun-bleached hair off her tan, graceful neck and back into a ponytail. She looked up at the mention of her name and she caught Adam’s gaze. Her eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue. “You were the same way on your first dig, Adam,” she said. “You still are. Evidently, we all are.” She wiped at her forehead with her red plaid neckerchief. “Toss me one of those bottles and let her work.”
Adam walked over and handed Claudia a bottle. He had known her for over a decade, ever since he was one of her star-struck students back in the first year of his Ph.D. in archaeology at Fletcher University. Claudia had been fairly new then, but she already outshone everyone else in a department full of luminaries. Adam had been spellbound, he remembered, as she told her class about the lost world she was bringing to light in the Judean desert.
There were still moments like this one—too many, Adam chided himself—when he would catch himself seeing Claudia as he had seen her that first day. He turned away and drained his bottle. “All right, Maggie,” he said. “You can stay through the lecture if you can listen while you work. Dr. Renaud and I can probably teach you something while we all roast.”
“Maybe we should start with a quiz,” Claudia said. “I’d like to see how well Dr. Drascher has taught you.”
Adam smiled at the mischief in her tone, but he wasn’t sure if Maggie could hear it. Claudia had always had a gift for provocation and for courting controversy, which went a long way toward explaining how she had become an academic celebrity. The high-end journalists knew Claudia was always good for a quote, and the few people Claudia failed to charm, she could incite.
Adam gave Maggie an encouraging nod. Maggie was the best student Adam had taught at Belmont. She would be applying to graduate school in the fall and Claudia’s letter could get Maggie in anywhere if Maggie impressed her enough.
Maggie finished her water and picked up her spade. “Ask away,” she said. “I’m not scared.”
“That’s a good beginning, then,” Claudia said. “We’ll start with an easy one. What do you expect to find here? Coins with Alexander’s face on them? A Roman dagger?”
Maggie raised an eyebrow as she dug. She shook her head and brushed her straight, black hair out of her eyes. “Much too recent,” she said. “Alexander died in what? Three hundred BC? Three-fifty? The Romans were long after that. The upper layers of dirt must have been carted away before we got here, right?” She waited for Adam to nod confirmation before she said, “You and Dr. Drascher focus on the monarchy, between about 1000 and 600 BC. We’re digging down around… was it seven-fifty, Professor?”
Claudia gave her an approving glance. Adam smiled his encouragement.
Maggie scratched lightly at the dirt as she framed her answer. “Amos was prophesying then,” she said. “We were reading about it just before the midterm. Assyria would crush the Northern Kingdom before too long, but here in Judah things were okay, right?”
“Good!” Adam said.
“All right,” Claudia said. “You have the context. Go on. Say you got really lucky. What might you expect to find here?”
Maggie looked up at her. “A cup? A piece of jewelry?” She caught Adam’s eye and she laughed. “Those are pretty safe answers, aren’t they? I wouldn’t
