Journey to the Well: A Novel (22 page)

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Authors: Diana Wallis Taylor

BOOK: Journey to the Well: A Novel
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“I think he likes me. When I grow up, I shall have a horse just like this one. Can I come to see him again sometime?”
Haman nodded absentmindedly. “Yes, of course, some other time.”
Marah turned back to Jesse, Elon, and the merchant Ahmal. She did not see where Caleb went until there was a commotion nearby.
Jesse strode quickly to retrieve Caleb from the hands of an angry camel driver. Caleb had come too close to one of the camels and Marah could make out the words “stubborn . . . spits” as the man waved his hands in the air.
“A thousand pardons, my friends.” Ahmal nodded to them and went to say a few words to the camel driver. The man quickly fell silent and sullenly moved away from the scene. Ahmal returned.
“He is one of my men. He was concerned about the boy. That is a mean camel. He is known to spit frequently at those who bother him. If he was not such a good pack animal, he would be made into a footstool!” They all smiled, but Jesse put a firm hand on Caleb’s shoulder, insuring that he would stay close by from now on.
“Do you live here in Shechem?” asked Elon.
“My travels take me many places, too many to stay in one place any length of time. Yet I confess, Shechem is the city of my birth and I think one day I will settle down when I am too old for all this traveling. In the meantime, I have a small house that belongs to my family. I have a steward who cares for it in my absence.”
He spread his hands to include them all. “Would you do me the greatest honor to take supper with me this evening? The fare is simple, but to my liking.”
It was settled, and Marah knew Jesse would not return to the carpenter shop this day.
From Ahmal’s words, Marah expected a small house somewhere in the city. He led them through a few streets and entered a wooden gateway. They came to a small but beautiful courtyard with flowers and shrubs with a fountain in the center. With two stories, the house itself was not small by their simple standards. Tapestries hung on two of the walls and stone shelves in the walls held treasures that Ahmal had taken a liking to on his journeys. An older man, dressed in a simple tunic, came forward to greet them.
“Welcome home, good master. Your message was received and I have prepared for your guests.”
“My friends, this is Eliab, my steward. Were it not for Eliab, I would have a poor welcome and sleep with the camel drivers.”
Eliab smiled at Ahmal. They were master and servant, yet Marah saw they were greatly fond of one another.
“Come, dinner is prepared.” Eliab bowed and indicated with his hand that they should follow him.
“We should have such a small, humble house as this,” whispered Jesse with a wry grin.
The meal was delightful. Ahmal was a charming and solicitous host. He courteously inquired about the carpentry trade and the items that Jesse made. He spoke with Elon concerning his field and the problems of a farmer. He examined the small camel that Caleb showed him proudly and exclaimed over its workmanship.
Marah listened to the men’s conversation and kept an eye on Caleb. The talk flowed over and around her, and with the full meal and sweet cakes for dessert, she was pleasantly full. Glancing at Elon, she saw that he was looking a little tired. It had been a long day for him.
When Haman told an exceptionally funny tale, she could not resist laughing softly. She looked up on one such moment to find Haman’s eyes on her. She glanced at Jesse who was watching Haman, his eyes glittering momentarily. Then, for some reason she looked at their host. He was observing them all, his face bland and unreadable.
Jesse stood up quietly. “We wish to thank you for your generous hospitality, my lord. It has indeed been a wonderful meal. May God bless you abundantly for your kindness to my family.”
Ahmal made the expected protest, extolling the early hour. When they insisted they could not presume upon his gracious hospitality further, Ahmal bowed and reluctantly bid them good night.
Marah knew that the next day her husband would have to work hard to make up for the time missed today.
28
 
J
esse rose early to prepare for the day’s travel. He knew where to find the oak tree he needed for a merchant’s recent order. He’d made a heavy cart to bring the wood back to his shop and was hitching the mule he had borrowed from a friend. Haman had not appeared. Just as Jesse thought Haman had backed out of his promise, he strolled into the courtyard obviously dressed for work. Jesse nodded at him with approval.
“Shall we be going, Cousin? The sun rises and the day will be hot.” Haman smiled. “After you, Cousin. I’m ready to work.” Marah came out and handed Jesse a leather pouch with provisions for lunch and a jug of water in a leather sling. He swung the leather pouch and leather sling over his shoulder and touched Marah’s cheek briefly with his hand.
“May God keep you on your journey, Husband.”
“God keep you, Wife,” he said with a smile. “We shall be hungry men after this day’s work. I shall probably be ready to eat for three.”
“You already do, Husband.” She laughed. “And our son is following in your footsteps.” She turned to Haman. “It is good of you to help Jesse.”
Haman waved one hand in a deprecating gesture. “What else is family for, Cousin?” His eyes looked briefly into hers and he turned away, but not before Marah had seen a gleam of something else in their depths.
Marah stepped back from them and turned quickly to Jesse. “Those bandits that plagued our cousin could still be in the hills. You will be careful . . . both of you?” She smiled but looked anxiously at his face.
“We will take the utmost care, beloved. We are two strong men; we’ll be all right.” He looked around the courtyard. “Where is Caleb?”
A sudden squawking of the chickens erupted almost as he spoke, and Caleb appeared, driving the chickens into the courtyard from their coop.
Jesse laughed. “You weren’t getting in the way of that rooster again, were you?”
Caleb grinned. “He doesn’t bother me. I told him he might end up in one of Mama’s stews if he isn’t careful.”
“You will be late for school if you do not hurry, Caleb.” Marah put an affectionate hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, Mama.” He looked a little wistfully at his father. “You are sure I cannot come with you, Papa?”
“I am sure. There will be another time, Son. For now, you must learn from the Book of the Law. Your education is important. You will be of age before we know it.”
Caleb nodded. “Goodbye, Papa. Goodbye, Cousin Haman. Have a good trip.” He waved at them and dashed out of the courtyard.
“A fine young man, Cousin,” observed Haman thoughtfully. “You must be very proud of him.”
“Yes,” Jesse acknowledged as he looked after Caleb. Then, impatiently, “Let us be on our way. We will be doing well if we can return by nightfall.”
Elon appeared from the house and walked slowly toward them. “Ah . . . there was a day when I would have gone with you and done more than my share of the work,” he lamented. Elon stopped and peered at Haman. “You are sure you can keep up with this young giant?”
It had been meant as humor, but Haman’s smile was thin. “He may have trouble keeping up with me, Uncle,” he replied with a smirk.
Jesse pulled on the reins and the two men followed the cart out of the courtyard and were soon out of sight. Marah stood looking after them, as a strange feeling of apprehension came over her. Why did she feel so restless this morning? In spite of his wit and camaraderie, Haman disturbed her. She didn’t know why. Haman admired her, she knew that, but she had caught a glimpse of something deeper than admiration from time to time. It was there in his glance even this morning—desire.
There was much to do today, and with resolve she shook off the heavy feelings and turned to the house.
29
 
T
he two men walked in silence for a while as the mule plodded steadily along.
“We have had an unusual number of caravans this month,” Haman was saying. He did not receive a response from Jesse and sensed that his cousin was preoccupied with something. He tried again. “What will you be making from this tree?”
“A chest.” No more was offered and Jesse’s brow was creased with a frown. Haman glanced cautiously at his cousin. Somehow Haman sensed that the thoughts that occupied Jesse’s mind did not concern carpentry. Perhaps he had been a little too open in his admiration of his cousin’s wife. He’d had more than his share of successes, even with the wives of other tradesmen. Marah was different. She was truly in love with her husband, and always when he came, Elon or Caleb seemed to be around. He had his comforts, but he found himself more and more occupied with thoughts of Marah. She was beautiful and he loved to watch her body as she moved about the house. He found himself obsessed with thoughts of her at night, yet he knew she would not look at another man.
“We are nearing the place I am looking for,” Jesse spoke suddenly, bringing Haman back from his preoccupation.
Haman made an effort to joke lightly. “Good. We will see who is the stronger man.”
Jesse stopped and looked at Haman. “Is that why you came today? You want to prove yourself to me?”
“A thousand pardons, Cousin. I came only to help. Does something disturb you?” Haman asked casually.
“Something disturbs me, Cousin. That is why I agreed to have you accompany me. We can talk more to the point when my family is not around.” Jesse’s eyes smoldered with resentment. “I would have you pay more attention to my father, your uncle, and less attention to my wife!” It was out in the open. Jesse waited for Haman’s response.
“Cousin, Cousin, forgive me if I have offended you. I admire anything beautiful, whether it is an animal, an item of trade . . . or a woman.” He shrugged casually. “It is only my way.”
“Then perhaps you need to change your way in regard to Marah. Do I make myself clear, Cousin?” The last was spoken in such a way that Haman did not mistake the veiled threat.
Haman grew hot. How dare this poor tradesman tell him what he could and could not do? No man ordered Haman about, unless a purse of gold accompanied his words. He would show Jesse who was the better man, in one way or another. Yet being a man who lived by his wits, he saw no point in forcing further confrontation. He would bide his time. With a forced show of humility, Haman looked innocently into Jesse’s eyes.
“Truly, Cousin, forgive me if I have caused you offense. Perhaps I have envied you your family, having not had one of my own. I shall take pains to treat your family with the utmost respect.”
Jesse hesitated, but Haman’s sincere plea won him over. “Then I too apologize for my jealousy. We shall forget the words were spoken.”
Haman nodded. “Let us indeed forget this incident.”
They walked on, climbing the slope of the mountain, and as they talked about many things, Jesse smiled at Haman’s stories as usual. Yet, underneath, Haman’s anger raged like a fire barely held in control.
Jesse stopped at the base of a large oak. “This is the one. It will take both of us with all our strength on the double saw to cut it down.”
Sweat ran freely down their faces and bodies as they pushed and pulled the large saw. Each man gave his best effort in silent competition broken only by an occasional grunt. Haman proved more than equal to the task. At last the cut in the tree was almost sufficient for they heard a “crack” and the big tree shuddered.
“Which way will the tree fall?” Haman asked, studying the tree.
“Toward the cut. It will fall this direction.” Jesse indicated with his hand. “Before we finish the cut, we must make sure nothing is in the path of the tree.”
He let go of the saw and turned to glance around. There were only a few small rocks, but just then, the mule that had been grazing a distance away wandered toward them. She was right in the path of the tree. With an exclamation, Jesse strode toward the mule. He had nearly reached her when his foot caught in a hole made by a small animal, and he sprawled on the ground. “Ahhhhhh!” He drew his breath in with the pain. Haman hurried to his side.
“What happened?”
“I caught . . . my . . . foot . . . in a hole.”
“Here, let me help you up.” Haman reached an arm around Jesse’s broad shoulders and lifted with all his might as Jesse tried to stand.
Jesse fell back to the ground and groaned with pain. “I . . . cannot. My ankle must be broken. Haman, get the mule. I can hang on to her bridle and between the three of us we can get to the cart.”
“You cannot move?” He looked at Jesse, lying helpless on the ground. Just then the tree began to crack and snap. As Haman watched, frozen in place, the great tree groaned and began to fall toward them.
“Haman, the tree, help me. Pull me out of the way!” Jesse reached out toward Haman.
Haman looked quickly at his cousin. There were only seconds. If he tried to help Jesse, he might be crushed by the tree himself. If he did nothing, the tree would surely crush Jesse. He took hold of Jesse’s arm and tried to drag him out of harm’s way. But Jesse’s size, which was usually an asset, was now a disadvantage.

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