Journey to the Well: A Novel (15 page)

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Authors: Diana Wallis Taylor

BOOK: Journey to the Well: A Novel
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“They are my wedding coins, my dowry. The shammash told me that my dowry may return with me.” She waited patiently as he looked at the coins and nodded.
Marah went to her pallet and retrieved the small bag with a few coins in it, handing it to Adah.
“What is this? They are not part of your headband.” Adah looked puzzled.
“They were given to me by Shimei from the sale of the sandal shop. They were to provide for Athaliah and me, to be used to care for her.”
Adah glanced at her husband. “Yes, you no longer need them to care for my sister.”
Adah tucked the small pouch into her girdle.
Hannah went to the table. “You will want your mother’s candlesticks.” The look on her face dared Adah to comment.
“I will get the animals, Marah.” Simon turned to go out the door.
Zerah looked up. “What animals are hers? How do we know which ones belonged to my wife’s sister?”
Simon couldn’t contain his irritation. “Anyone in the village can tell you exactly how many chickens, goats, and sheep Marah brought to Zibeon’s pens with her marriage. Every woman in the village counted them. Do you wish me to call in the neighbors to verify Marah’s animals?”
“That will not be necessary . . . will it, Zerah?” Adah nodded meaningfully at her husband. “We only wish to do the right thing by my sister and my nephew.”
Simon glared at Zerah. “It is hoped that the rest of your business in our village can be completed in a friendlier manner.” He turned to Hannah. “Come, Wife, you and Marah can assist me. We are not needed here.”
Marah picked up her small bag of belongings that contained the bill of divorcement and dropped in the necklace of coins. She took a last look at what had been her home for almost two years. Carrying the candlesticks, Hannah put an arm around her shoulders and led her from the house as Zerah and Adah watched.
Simon led the remaining goat and Hannah and Marah each carried a basket of chickens. Neighbors had gathered in the courtyard, some in sympathy with Marah and some out of curiosity. It was a sad procession that left the courtyard and wound its way to the house of Simon and Hannah.
PART IV
 
Jesse
 
16
 
S
imon patiently pushed on the roller to smooth out a portion of the clay roof that had been damaged by the recent rain. Marah and Hannah wove small branches to repair the shelter that protected Marah’s pallet. They worked quickly for the barley was rich and ripe for harvest and soon they would be busy in the golden fields.
For several days Simon noted the weather and the crops. Each farmer wanted to choose the most favorable time to harvest.
“It should begin after this Sabbath,” Simon said, studying the sky.
“My lord, is it not too early? What if we have more rain?” Hannah asked.
“Better two days early, than two days late,” Simon responded in his practical way, quoting a well-known proverb.
Hannah shrugged. Marah shook her head slowly and smiled at her. The two years had passed quickly since Marah had come to live with her friends, yet with each month that passed, she became increasingly aware that she needed to consider the direction of her life. She could not live with Hannah and Simon forever, yet what should she do?
Marah thought of the strange family that Shimei’s bill of divorcement had released her from. Zibeon with his temper; poor Shimei and his sad face; Athaliah and her madness . . . then there had been Athaliah’s sister and brother-in-law. How they had tried everyone’s patience.
Adah complained to anyone who would listen. The neighbors, who dutifully brought in food for the week of mourning when the law forbade cooking, ignored her remarks.
There was no other relative to step forward and buy the property, Shimei would not return, Marah no longer held any claim, and Zerah had no wish to remain in Shechem. They disposed of what they could and sold the house to a man in the village. Simon witnessed the signing of the deed and the exchange of money, which was carefully counted out in the presence of the witnesses. He came home shaking his head. It was always a sad day when property that had been held in a family for generations passed into the hands of others.
Marah knew she should marry again, but whom? Marah laughed to herself when she thought of the two unacceptable suitors who had courted her. The son of the shammash accosted her one day when she was leading the sheep to the shepherd. She had noticed Shelah eyeing her furtively as she went about her tasks. He appeared wherever she went and twice she found him hanging around the courtyard gate. He finally asked for her in marriage, and was turned down by Simon with Marah’s prompting. Crestfallen and lovesick, Shelah followed her around the village. The more she ignored him, the more determined he became. Then, one day when she came by with the sheep, he suddenly jumped from behind a rock where he had been watching for her. As he grabbed her, they struggled. The heavy staff fell to the ground. Shelah tried to kiss her and press her to the ground. She pulled herself free and instead of running away, she snatched up the staff that she had dropped and in a fury began to beat him with it. He was so surprised he covered his head from the blows with his arms and ran back to the village. When word got back to the shammash, Shelah was quickly sent to relatives in another village to avoid the shame and gossip. Marah felt sorry for him, and for a time feared the shammash. Yet when he passed her in the marketplace he did not look at her and she lowered her eyes respectfully.
Hannah was outraged by the incident. “Simon, what is a young woman to do if she cannot walk near our village without fear for her own safety? If the son of the shammash tries to accost her, then who else will it be?”
Simon listened quietly and then turned to Marah. “From now on Dibri must come for the sheep each day.”
Marah felt she would be all right, but there was a note of authority in Simon’s voice and Marah nodded respectfully. Secretly she was thankful for their concern and protection.
One evening when Simon returned from his field, there was a knock at the door.
Peninnah the matchmaker stood smiling on their doorstep.
“I would like to speak with Simon,” she said, brushing by Hannah when she held the door open. “Oh, and peace be with this household,” she added hastily.
“Peace to you, Peninnah.”
Peninnah hurried over to Simon. “There you are,” she gushed, as though just discovering him, “I have a proposition for you.”
“You have a proposition for me?” Simon looked at her patiently as Hannah pursed her lips and waited.
“It concerns the young woman you have so generously taken into your home, out of the kindness of your heart. Poor girl, with all she has been through, but now I have the solution to your problem.” She beamed at them all.
Simon cleared his throat. “Our problem?” He turned to Hannah. “She has a solution to our, ah, problem.”
“An offer of,” and Peninnah paused for effect, “marriage!”
Simon turned solemnly to Marah. “She has an offer of marriage for you.” He turned back to Peninnah. “Do you wish to speak to Marah? She can speak for herself in this matter.”
Peninnah seemed uncomfortable. “Well, it is just that I am used to, well, to speaking with the parents of the bride-to-be. Of course, yes, there have been some occasions when I have been most helpful in bringing others, in Marah’s position, into a very suitable marriage.”
Marah nodded and waited.
“Very well, I present an offer of marriage and a home from a most eligible man, a widower. A fine man, in need of a wife most urgently. He has chosen Marah.” The last was stated with a flourish of her hand.
“Does he have a family?” Marah inquired. “A mother, father, children?”
“No parents to care for, God be praised, but less for you to do. Children? Yes, lovely children who need a woman of compassion to care for the home.”
“How many children?” Marah was prompted by Hannah’s mouthed urging behind Peninnah.
“Praise God, it is so wonderful. He has four, a family already, for a poor woman who has none of her own.”
“Four?” Marah kept her voice even and rolled her eyes at Hannah when Peninnah turned for a moment. “How old are they?”
“The oldest is eleven, a fine boy, then a girl, eight, another little girl, five, and a dear baby boy, just a year old. Just think, with no children of your own, praise God, a lovely family.”
“Could this be the family of Korah the potter?” Hannah had opened her eyes wide at the description of the children.
“You know him?” Peninnah had whirled around. “The very same. What could be better? Korah needs a wife, and Marah needs a husband.” She beamed at them again. “Now,” she began briskly, “shall we settle the arrangements?”
Marah thought quickly. She did not wish to offend the matchmaker who carried tales all over the village. Marah knew of Korah, as did everyone in the village. His children were dirty and whined a great deal. He did not rule his own house as the Book of the Law commanded. He did not take the laws of cleanliness as seriously as he should and was sometimes avoided by the other men on the Sabbath. She shuddered inwardly.
“You are most kind to come with such an offer, Peninnah,” Marah said, choosing her words carefully. “I will consider this matter carefully.”
Peninnah sniffed. “Beggars cannot be choosers. You need a husband. He needs a wife. You cannot expect to burden yourself on others forever.”
Simon gently but firmly took the matchmaker’s arm and guided her outside the doorway.
“We will discuss your most generous offer. If Marah agrees to accept, we will let you know at once. May God bless and keep you.”
As he was closing the door, Peninnah called over his shoulder, “Don’t wait too long. Another woman may take this opportunity and it will be too late. This may be your last chance.” Peninnah took herself off down the street like a ship in full sail.
Marah stood quietly, feeling wretched. “Perhaps she is right, Hannah. I cannot stay here forever. Sooner or later I must marry again. There aren’t that many eligible men left in Shechem.”
Hannah took her by the shoulders. “You have spent too much time today in the sun. Simon, tell her she is welcome. Tell her she can wait to make a right choice. Tell her she doesn’t have to marry a man like Korah, with those four horrible children!”
Simon waited patiently through his wife’s tirade. He shrugged. “So I am telling you, Marah, wait.”
“Tell her she is like family.”
“You are like—” Simon stopped and looked at Hannah. “You have already told her. She is not deaf. She knows this.” He turned to Marah, putting a fatherly hand on her arm. “You know this?”
Marah nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. They would not press her or urge her to leave. She was not a burden to them. In time, she knew she would marry, but it would be in her own time. With a grateful heart, Marah turned to help Hannah with the evening meal.
17
 
W
ord came that Dibri was ill and could not come for the sheep. Hannah was busy with the washing and Simon was repairing a sickle. The harvest would begin tomorrow. There was no one else to take their few sheep to the shepherd, so Marah put on her shawl and reached for the heavy staff she had used before.
“I don’t feel right about you taking the sheep alone.”
Marah laughed. “I’ll be all right, Hannah, it’s a fair day and I’ll take a stout staff to drive off any animals.” The emphasis on the last word was not missed by Hannah.
Hannah was still anxious. “Should I send Simon to walk back with you when he returns?”
“Oh Hannah, if I am not back within a reasonable time, send Simon, but really, I shall enjoy the walk this morning.” Marah smiled and began to speak softly to the sheep. They knew her voice and willingly followed her down the path.
The warm sun felt good on her back as she led the small flock toward the hills where the shepherd would oversee them for the day.
What could happen to me on such a day?
she mused as she walked.
The sheep were suddenly restless, milling around and bleating. Looking around for some sign of danger, Marah saw a young child sitting in the dirt in the road in front of her. He held a small stick and great tears rolled down his cheeks. He looked up at her hopefully, but as she approached, his face fell. Obviously she was not the one he had hoped to see.
There was a low growl and she looked on the hillside to her right. A fierce-looking wild dog was eyeing the boy and the sheep. When he saw her, he bared his teeth. Though her heart pounded with fear, Marah quickly picked up a good rock and bravely hurled it at the dog, striking its soft muzzle. She shook her staff menacingly at him and shouted loudly. The dog hesitated a moment and then, with another growl, loped away. Marah let her breath out slowly. When she was sure the dog was gone, she turned to the little boy.
“Are you lost?” she inquired, gathering the small child in her strong arms to comfort him.

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