It was nearly dark by the time Ethan and Leah got back to the tent. Ethan paused at the tent entrance and took a deep breath.

What if he’s dead? he thought. He looked over at Leah. She shook her head as though she knew what he was thinking.

The air inside the tent was sour, like the smell of traveling clothes that hadn’t been washed for a week. His father lay on his mat just across from the entrance. His mother lay on the ground next to him. Judging by the drag marks on the floor, Ethan guessed that his mother had moved his father by herself.

“I’m . . . so glad you two are home,” his mother mumbled. She sounded more asleep than awake. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“How’s Father?” Leah whispered.

“The bleeding’s stopped,” his mother said wearily. “He needs rest. We all do. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Ethan limped over to his mat and plopped down on his back. His ankles were throbbing, his shoulder was stiff, and the skin on the back of his head was still tingling. He couldn’t help letting out a groan.

“Are you okay?” Leah whispered, kneeling at the foot of his mat.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ethan said.

“I . . . uh . . . just wanted to say thanks for coming to help me,” Leah said. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her while she talked.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, wincing at a pain in his arm. “After all, family members are like rules —you don’t know how important they are until they’re gone.”

“Huh?” she said.

“Never mind. We’d better stop talking so Father can sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right.”

Ethan closed his eyes. In the distance he heard a sharp crack of thunder. It’s not over yet, he thought, and a shiver ran down his spine.

The next morning Ethan woke to the sound of voices outside the tent. He glanced around and saw that everyone else was up already. Bright sunlight flooded the tent through the open flaps.

Father! he remembered. He tried to get up quickly, but his ankles and shoulder wouldn’t let him. After a couple of tries he managed to pull himself up using one of the tent posts for support. He hobbled over to the entrance, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness.

Outside, his father was sitting on a rock. He still had some scabs and bruises on his face, but most of the swelling was gone. Leah was wiping his face with a wet cloth. Ethan’s mother was standing over the cooking pot, stirring. The smell of fresh manna made Ethan’s stomach rumble.

I guess manna’s not so bad, he thought. Better than sand, anyway.

His father noticed him in the doorway and tried to smile, but the muscles in his face seemed frozen. “Leah told me what happened,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son.” Only one side of his mouth moved when he talked.

Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s not right,” he said. “It’s not right what they did to you.”

His father looked into the distance and shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be in their place,” he said. “They will pay a high price for disobeying the God of Israel.”

There was a long pause, and Leah finally spoke. “Some of the elders came by this morning to see Father,” she told Ethan. “They said that after we left, Moses threw the golden calf in the fire. He told Aaron and his followers that they’re going to be punished for what they did.”

Ethan stared at Leah. For once she didn’t sound glad that the rule breakers would be punished. In fact, she sounded sad.

“I know Melki was your friend, Ethan,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Ethan looked at the flames of the cooking fire. He thought about Uli and Tovar, Orek and Patek, Elizah the Judge and the man with the stripes painted on his face. But mostly he thought about Melki and his family.

I came close to being one of them, he thought.

None of them said anything for a long time. At last Ethan cleared his throat. “Will it always be like this?” he asked. “Will we always wander in the desert? Won’t we ever have a real home?”

His father turned toward him, and his eyes shone. “Someday,” he said. “Someday, Ethan. A land flowing with milk and honey. That’s the Lord’s promise.”

Ethan lifted his eyes toward Mount Sinai. Maybe if God can bring Moses back after that long on the mountain, He can take us to the Promised Land too. Maybe.

“And the new rules?” he asked. “What will they be like?”

“I don’t know,” his father said. “But I do know they’ll be for our good.”

Ethan nodded slightly, remembering the chaos in the camp. I wanted to be free, like those people, he thought. But they weren’t free at all.

He sighed. This was going to take time, learning how to be free. But he had the feeling the answer had something to do with following the God of Israel —not running away from Him.

“Speaking of rules,” his mother said, handing Ethan a bowl of cooked manna. “This morning the men said Moses is going back up the mountain. He broke the tablets that the rules were written on, so the Lord is going to give him new ones.”

Ethan remembered the shattered tablets he’d seen. So those were the new rules.

Leah spoke up. “And I promise not to nag you about them,” she said. “After last night, I can see you don’t need my help to obey.”

“Of course I don’t,” Ethan said, grinning. “As long as there aren’t too many new rules.”

His father chuckled. “And how many is too many?” he asked.

Ethan thought for a moment. “Oh . . . as long as it’s less than ten, I should be okay,” he said.

“Not even ten commandments?” his mother said with a smile. “We’ll see, Ethan. We’ll see.”