RAISING CAIN
by
James Creager

     I did not know at first why Cain, my brother, killed me.  What was his motive?  What would he have gained?  Was it something I did?  The last question reminds me of  the last conversation with Cain before my life ended.  My name is Abel, and this is my story.

     Two hours had passed since Cain and I made our offerings to the Lord.  I was in the field, keeping watch over my flock.  The sun shone bright with its golden light dancing on the brook.  The song of  the robin filled the air.  When I looked to the right of me, I saw Cain walking towards me.  He said that he wanted to talk.  We talked for an hour about various things.  In other words, your typical conversation.  Anyway, it was then that Cain asked me a question.

     "Why did God accepted your offering and not mine?"

     "What?" I replied looking at him with a raise eyebrow

       "I said . . . ."

       "I heard what you said, but what did you mean?"

     "What. was your offering to the Lord?"  Cain demanded.

     I answered, "The blood and fat of  a firstling from my flock.  And you?"

     "The fruit," he said without looking at me, "of  the ground that I had worked on."

       So that's why, I thought.  Cain had offered the fruit of  the ground which was cursed by God.  His sacrifice was not only bloodless, but. was already curse.

     Cain became furious.  His eyes opened wide.

       "Why didn't you tell me?" he yelled.  "Why didn't you give me one of  your lambs?"

       "Why are you angry with me?"  I asked with concern.  "What is the cause?"

     Cain's eyes narrowed, "You should have provided the lamb, so that I could give it to God!"

     "Cain . . . ." I started to say, but he cut me off.

     "You always get. your way!" he screamed.  "I HATE YOU!"

     Then I got up and walked away.  Having been his brother for nineteen years, I knew that there was no reasoning with him when he was this upset.  I feared explaining to him, why the Lord rejected his offering, for it would only be adding fuel to the fire of  Cain's fury.

     Just give him a chance to cool off, I thought.  Maybe the two of  us can work something out later.

     A moment later, I felt a sharp pain on the back of  my neck.  With my vision blurred, I fell to the ground.  Then I felt something hit me in the back of  the head.  I looked at the object that struck me.  It was a stone that was smeared with blood, my blood.

       I struggled to get up, but someone's hard kick to my stomach forced me back down.  There was another kick to my head.  I was drowning in a sea of  pain.  I rolled over unto my back and looked up at my attacker.

     Cain was standing me, holding a large stone over his head.   His eyes were wide open and full of  fury.

      "Cain . . . ." I weakly pleaded, "no . . . ."

     Cain brought the stone crashing upon my head.  The world around me went black as I closed my eyes for the last time.

     Jealousy is a dangerous thing in the hands of  an enraged brother.