by Ray Ball, PhD
In memory of Jan
During her funeral, which I could not attend,
I wondered why there are so few Moveable
Feasts. She told me once, while we were doing
something mundane, like getting frozen
yogurt at TCBY, that one of them is the day
of St. Sarkis. That Christian general who marched
to Antioch, but realized he could not serve
an emperor apostate. So he fled from the city,
running with footfalls lighter than a sprinkling
of flour in the dark of night through the lands
of the ring-headed dwarf snakes. Offered
his fealty to another, the Zoroastrian crowned
in utero. A destroyer of lands who insisted
that Sarkis submit to a trial by fire to prove
the legitimacy of his faith. When he refused,
his son was murdered before his eyes. Light
poured from his martyred bones. Bright relics
illuminated again in medieval manuscripts
decorated by monks. Footprints appearing
in flour spilled like the dust of the desert
on the kitchen floor. Before her cancer
cells multiplied and spread, in spite of trials
of burning chemical fire, she mixed the dough
for salty biscuits sixty-three days before Easter.
Ray Ball, PhD, is a history professor and Pushcart nominee. She is the author of two history books, and her creative work has recently appeared in Coffin Bell, Ellipsis Zine, Moria, and UCity Review. Ray serves as an associate editor of the literary journal Alaska Women Speak. You can find her hiking and running Alaska’s trails, researching in the Spanish and Italian archives, or on Twitter @ProfessorBall.
Image of St. Sarkis from Welcome to Armenia‘s “Captain St. Sarkis.”
(And don’t miss Ray’s found poem The quality of protecting about coconuts, people, and the Indies. – Elephants Never)