Journey to the Well: A Novel (2 page)
Read Journey to the Well: A Novel Online
Authors: Diana Wallis Taylor
“Jacob’s well?”
With her hand paused in midair, Hannah turned and looked closely at Marah, then snorted. “If I should live to see a hundred harvests, God willing, I shall never understand your aunt.”
Hannah reached again for her water jar. “Of course I will come. Your aunt is right. You shouldn’t walk so far from the village alone.”
Marah waited impatiently, anxious to be away lest Reba change her mind and fetch her back to the confines of the house. She thought of the many springs that flowed nearby that fed the village well. Why would Reba tell her to go all the way to Jacob’s well when she felt feverish?
Hannah interrupted as though reading her thoughts. “If Reba feels the water from the well of our father Jacob will make her feel better, let us go quickly,” she said with resignation.
Hannah cared little for Marah’s aunt.
“You do all the work of the household while Reba spends her time in idle pursuits and walking through the street of the merchants,” Hannah said more than once. “She takes advantage of you. And all those aches and pains are in her head!”
“She gives me a home” Marah replied once.
“A home?” Hannah snorted. “And what home have you got, Reba’s? It belongs to a distant kinsman. It should have been yours. You are the only child.”
Marah sighed. It was difficult to defend her aunt to Hannah.
“The Levirate law requires you to keep your land within the tribe, yet Reba claims there was not a kinsman redeemer to be found who could marry you,” Hannah had stated flatly. “And what will be your dowry when you do marry? How will you live when the money from the sale of the house and land is gone?”
Shaking her head with righteous indignation, Hannah looked out at the street leading to Marah’s home and folded her arms. “She brings more sorrow to the house. Have you not borne enough with the death of your parents and then to be saddled with that woman?”
Marah kept silent.
“A selfish woman, that Reba.” Hannah rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Who knows what she will do.”
“I will be all right.” Marah said gently, smiling back at Hannah with trust in her eyes. She understood Hannah’s desire to protect her, for despite prayers and hopes, Hannah’s marriage to Simon had not produced any children. Hannah poured all the mother love of her nature into Marah as if she were her own.
They walked quietly for a time, their sandals making a soft slap, slapping sound in the dust of the road.
“So what is Reba’s ailment this time?” Hannah said.
“She gripped her heart and said she was feverish.” Marah’s winged brows knitted together as she recalled the strange confrontation with her aunt.
“Did you not get water this morning?”
“Reba was to go. I have been forbidden to leave the house.”
“For what reason?”
“I’m not sure. Reba has been acting rather strangely lately, perhaps because she hasn’t felt well. I was cleaning the ashes out of the oven, and she called me in to send me to Jacob’s well. Does the well have medicinal properties?”
“Not that I know of, child.” Hannah chewed on her lower lip. She seemed about to say something and then thought better of it. She glanced furtively at Marah from time to time and then sighed heavily, pursing her lips as they continued in silence. Each was occupied with their own thoughts.
As she and Hannah neared the town gate, some of the village women stopped to watch them pass. They regarded Marah and spoke among themselves.
She decided not to pay attention, listening instead to the barking of the village dogs and soft twitter of the bulbul birds. In the distance she could hear the chirp of tree crickets. As they began the mile-and-a-half walk to the well, Marah felt a sense of adventure. She had never been to Jacob’s well before.
Away from the town they enjoyed the cooler air that began to blow down the vale of Shechem.
“Perhaps someone should have stayed with Reba while I was gone,” Marah murmured. “This pain seemed to come upon her so suddenly. It was different. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been left alone. I offered to get Dorcas, but she didn’t want her.”
Hannah glanced quickly at Marah. “She will be all right, child. We will be back soon with the water she desires. It will make her feel better.”
Marah nodded, reassured by Hannah’s confident tone. “I try hard to do as my aunt asks, but there seems to be no pleasing Reba. Perhaps she will be in a better mood when we return.”
As they walked along in companionable silence for a while, Marah’s thoughts tumbled over one another. “Hannah. How did you feel when you were to marry Simon?”
“So it is marriage that occupies your mind these days!” The tone was teasing.
Marah blushed. “Well, yes and no. I mean, I merely wondered. I know that one day I shall be a bride. At least I hope I shall . . .” Her words trailed off and she looked beseechingly at her friend.
Hannah paused, studying Marah’s face for a moment. “It is in the hands of God.”
Marah looked up at Mount Ebal. The hands of God. Were they like her father Jared’s hands, gentle and loving, yet firm when she misbehaved? Her father had always said, “Doesn’t the God of all the earth know His way?” What was God’s way for her?
She thought of the dream that came to her from time to time. A man, a stranger, reaching out to her. He wanted something and when she tried to get closer he disappeared. Her grandmother had believed in dreams and visions. What did it all mean?
She shook her head.
I am only a maiden. Why would the God of all the heavens be concerned with me?
I am only a maiden. Why would the God of all the heavens be concerned with me?
Blinking, Marah looked back at Hannah who was still speaking.
“. . . If your family has chosen well for you, a marriage can be a good thing. Simon has been a kind and good husband.” Hannah looked off in the distance. “I was fortunate. As the youngest of three daughters from a poor household and plain, I was almost fourteen when my marriage to Simon was arranged.”
“At least you were not a maiden forever!” Marah immediately regretted her words. Only one misfortune was worse than being an unmarried maiden. She knew how much Hannah wanted a child. To be barren was a disgrace. God had closed Hannah’s womb and she sadly bore the stigma of it. Marah looked quickly at Hannah, but her friend did not seem to be offended. Relieved, she fell silent again, and then a possibility entered her mind.
“Do you think that Reba will arrange a marriage for me?” She hung her head. “We have very little money.”
Hannah hesitated. “How much do you understand of the sale of the property to that distant kinsman?”
“I know it mustn’t pass out of the tribe of my father. That is the law. Reba said that, out of respect for Jared, the kinsman allows us to remain in the house for a small rent. He was very old and married. As my father’s sister, Reba has no inheritance. Reba had to act quickly and said I must trust her to do what is right.”
Marah paused to see Hannah shaking her head in unbelief.
“That is like trusting a wild dog with a chicken!” Hannah muttered half aloud.
“Reba would do the right thing for us, wouldn’t she?”
Hannah sighed and continued walking. “Yes, child, I am sure she will do the right thing. And she will arrange a marriage for you one day. She is your family now that your father is gone.”
Though Hannah’s tone did not carry a very positive note, Marah was comforted because of her words. Hannah would know.
At the mention of her father, tears came to Marah’s eyes. It had been over a year, and she still missed him terribly, longing to hear his booming laugh and feel his gentle touch.
She looked across the fields for a moment, imagining his tall figure striding through the stalks of grain. He would scoop her up in his strong arms and carry her home when she was small. She remembered candlelit evenings sitting at her father’s feet while he repaired a tool or carved something out of wood.
Then Reba came, with her complaints.
“Jared, when will you fix the roof? Don’t you care if I catch my death of cold?”
“The roof is fine, Reba. I repaired it only last month.”
“Jared, do you not care that I struggle to keep up this house? Marah needs to help me more.”
“She does most of the work as it is, Reba. Aieee, she is only a child yet!”
“She needs to learn her duties.” Reba said sternly, her lips pinched tight and arms folded over her considerable chest.
Marah’s father was no match for her.
He worked his fields and patiently endured Reba’s tirades. Marah recalled that he frequented one of the inns more often as the months went by. Then, two years after Reba had come to live in their home, Jared was found dead in the fields. His great heart had given out. Some men from the village gently carried him home. In her grief, Marah had turned to her aunt for comfort. It was a mistake, for Reba had no comfort to give.
“Now which of the young men in Shechem will you have for your husband?” Hannah asked, breaking her reverie. When Marah just shrugged, she added with a twinkle, “I’m sure there shall be someone, a handsome young man. Probably there shall be a rich merchant passing through who cannot live without you.”
Alarmed, Marah looked at her friend. “I would not wish to leave Shechem. I pray my husband shall be from our own town!”
“Most surely, child, he will be. Perhaps the son of the shammash?”
Marah’s eyes grew wide for a moment and then they both laughed. The shammash, who assisted the high priest, was a strong influence in the community, but his son was an empty-headed young man.
“Perhaps a shepherd?” Hannah murmured with a knowing glance at her companion.
Marah blushed and made a face. She turned and breathed deeply of the smells of the rich earth stirred by a welcome breeze.
Jesse. When had she not known him? When had that moment come between them when the friendship of children had slipped into the shadows? When had they become aware of one another in a way that had suddenly made her shy and him protective? Each day when she took their few sheep to him for watching, they talked shyly, prolonging the time together. One day soon, Jesse would speak to his father.
As Marah pictured Jesse’s father speaking to Reba, warmth spread through her heart and an unconscious sigh escaped her lips. She looked quickly at Hannah, but her friend was looking ahead, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“I shall probably not marry for years!” Marah cried defensively, lifting her chin. Then they both laughed again at the improbability.
The two women didn’t hurry, but walked with purpose. Marah looked over the dry fields and saw the date palms burdened with ripe fruit. As they passed through the narrow valley, she listened to the birds that perched in the groves of olive trees. It was nice to be carefree, even for a little while.
At the point where the road climbed slightly, they paused to rest and savor the view of the Vale of Shechem. With the valley curving behind the mountains, the walls of Shechem were hidden from view. The mountains seemed to give the valley strength, forming a barrier that protected the valley from the cold winds of the north and the hot winds from the south. The waters that sustained the valley poured forth in a benevolent flow from the side of the holy mountain, Gerizim, bringing moisture and balancing the dry air of Palestine.
Marah breathed deeply again, savoring the breeze at this peaceful time of the day. Ahead she saw the well of their ancestor, Jacob, whose men had dug the well to water his flocks and herds. It stood on a windswept hill that formed the crossroads for foot travelers and caravans passing through Samaria from other lands.
Many villagers still liked to come to Jacob’s well to enjoy the walk and the cooler air that blew down the vale in late afternoon. It was a well of tradition more than convenience. Both a cistern and a spring, it was fed by surface water as well as an underground stream.
The well measured seven spans of a man’s hand across. Over the years, the ropes used to raise the water pots from the well had etched deep grooves into the stones forming its rim.
As Marah and Hannah approached the well, they saw three women laughing and talking together. The latest gossip, no doubt.
The women stopped talking and looked up as the newcomers drew near. After showing Marah the ropes to lower her water jar, Hannah exchanged a few words with one of the other women.
Occupied with filling her vessel, Marah paid little attention, knowing that Hannah would share any interesting news.
When she had carefully drawn up the full jar, Marah turned to call to Hannah. The teasing words caught in Marah’s throat as she beheld the startled look on Hannah’s face.
“Hannah, what is wrong? What has happened?”
One of the women, Leah, started to speak. Hannah silenced her with a sharp look and a slight shake of her head as she began to lower her own water jar.
“It is nothing,” Hannah said quickly, and more loudly than necessary.
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