Keepers of the Covenant (19 page)

B
ETHLEHEM

T
he wagon Amina rode in stopped at the top of the Mount of Olives to wait for the rest of the caravan of travelers from Bethlehem to catch up. The climb up from the village of Bethany on the other side of the mountain had been long and steep, but Amina never tired of this view of Jerusalem, spread out on the opposite ridge with the temple perched on Mount Zion. “Isn’t it beautiful, Sayfah?” she asked. She wasn’t surprised when her sister merely shrugged. Amina thought of it as The Golden City. She loved the creamy color of its stones and the way the sunlight made them glow. A curl of smoke rose from the temple’s altar, and Amina anticipated the fragrant aroma of roasting meat and incense. They had come for the Feast of Weeks, celebrating the day the Almighty One gave Moses the Law on Mount Sinai, fifty days after saving them from Pharaoh’s army. Amina had been saved from certain death, too, just like the Israelites.

One of the men in their caravan from Bethlehem began to sing,
“I rejoiced with those who
said to me. ‘Let us go to the house of
the Lord.’”
Others quickly joined him in the familiar tune:
“Our feet are standing in your gates, O Jerusalem
.”
Amina
knew almost all of the songs and loved singing them on the Sabbath and at festivals. Sayfah never sang.

At last the rest of their caravan reached the top of the Mount of Olives, and they all started downhill to cross the valley together. Just outside Jerusalem, they paused again to shop in the local market square at the foot of the ramp leading to the City of David. The bazaar was much bigger than the one in Bethlehem, with Jews and local people and even foreign merchants shouting and haggling as they bartered their goods. The beautiful, exotic wares fascinated Amina and she slowed her steps, linking arms with Sayfah as she slowly limped along. Her sister pulled her to a stop in front of a booth selling painted pottery. “Look, Amina! Those pots are exactly like the ones we had at home, remember?”

Amina saw the longing on Sayfah’s face as she traced her fingers over the glazed design, a longing Amina didn’t share or understand. She was about to reply when a voice suddenly said, “Do you girls like what you see? Are you buying?”

Amina looked up at the owner, then froze in horror.
Her father!

He was older than she remembered, with more gray hair than brown, but he wore the tunic and turban of her people, the Edomites.
It couldn
’t be!
Abba was dead, wasn’t he? Amina whirled away, yanking Sayfah’s arm as she prepared to run from him and disappear into the crowd, dragging Sayfah with her.

“Hey, wait!” he called after them. “You girls . . . Sayfah!”

Sayfah halted when she heard her name.

“We have to run! We can’t let him catch us!” Amina tried to break free, but Sayfah wouldn’t let go. The man was out of his booth now, hurrying after them, and when he finally caught up, Amina was relieved to see it wasn’t their father after all. This man was shorter than Abba had been, but the resemblance was very strong. He was Abba’s brother, Abdel. Their uncle. Amina still longed to run.

“Hey! Aren’t you my nieces—Sayfah and . . . ?” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall Amina’s name. “You look just like your mother, Sayfah—a real beauty. And I would know you anywhere because of your . . .” He gestured to Amina’s crippled leg. “Everyone thought you girls died in the fighting last year.”

“We’re the only ones left,” Sayfah said. Amina glanced around, still searching for a way to escape, and saw Hodaya hurrying back to look for them, leaning on Jacob’s arm. Amina ran to her, clinging like a vine on a trellis.

“What’s going on?” Jacob asked. “Do you girls know this man?” Their uncle had his hand on Sayfah’s shoulder.

“Of course they do. I’m their uncle, Abdel.”

“Is that right?” Jacob asked, looking to Amina for confirmation. She nodded.

“What do you Jews think you’re doing with my nieces?” he asked before Jacob could speak again. “If you’ve made them your concubines, I expect full payment as their next-of-kin!”

Amina spoke up, knowing Sayfah never would. “Hodaya and Jacob were kind enough to take us in and give us a home when we were all alone.”

“Then it’s lucky for you that I saw you today and recognized you. You aren’t orphans, you know. You don’t have to stay with these Jews anymore. You belong with your aunt and me. It’s time to come home to your own people.” He gestured to his booth, then beckoned to them to follow.

Amina’s body trembled so hard she could barely stand. Did he expect them to simply walk away with him after all this time? The thought made her sick. Jacob would surely turn them over to Abdel to be rid of them. And even if Hodaya came to their defense, Uncle Abdel would never listen to her. The men in Amina’s village took no notice of what a woman had to say.

“Just a minute,” Jacob said. “If the girls want to go with you, they’re certainly free to do so. But I think the decision should be theirs.”

“They’re girls!” Her uncle scoffed. “They don’t get to decide where—” He stopped as he seemed to catch himself. “Of course you’ll want to come back to your family, right, Sayfah? Come on.” He still gripped Sayfah’s shoulder and tried to steer her away. Again, Jacob came to their defense, separating Sayfah from their uncle.

“Let’s not discuss this here and now,” he said. “I’m sure the girls must be shocked to learn they have relatives after believing they were orphans for more than a year.”

“What are you talking about? They knew they had relatives. What kind of trick are you trying to play?” Abdel was shouting now, reminding Amina of the fear and abuse she’d endured for the first eight years of her life. She clung to Hodaya, trying not to cry. Again, Jacob surprised Amina by answering quietly and calmly, standing up for them.

“The girls didn’t remember which village you were from and had no idea how to contact you. But listen, we’re on our way to the temple right now, and it’s a holiday tomorrow. We’ll meet you back here in two days. That will give your nieces a chance to decide what they’d like to do. What do you say?”

“What guarantee do I have that you’re not going to steal them away and disappear? How do I know you’re not abusing them? If you’ve taken them as wives—”

“They’re much too young to be anyone’s wives,” Hodaya said, speaking for the first time.

“My mother adopted Amina and Sayfah as her own daughters,” Jacob said.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Jacob stepped toward him, confronting him face-to-face. “Because I’m giving you my word, that’s how. Or you can ask the girls yourself—do you want to go with your uncle now?” he asked, turning to Amina. She shook her head. Sayfah seemed too stunned to reply.

“We’ll return to your booth in two days,” Jacob said firmly.
“We’ll let you know their decision then. Good day.” He gently turned Sayfah around and prodded her up the street saying, “Let’s go, girls.” Amina followed in a daze. Neither Jacob nor Hodaya said another word about the incident as they climbed the steps to the temple.

Amina had been looking forward to seeing the priests in their pure white robes, watching the beautiful rituals, and hearing the Levite choir sing, but now she was too upset to enjoy any of it. Her heart flapped wildly like a bird caught in a net at the thought of living with her uncle. As fear slowly overwhelmed her, she could barely breathe. She didn’t want to leave Hodaya and return to her own people. Ever! But what could she do? She and Sayfah were Edomites, not Jews. Didn’t her uncle have a right to them?

Gradually, the deep, rich sound of the music began to calm Amina. When her panic faded and she no longer wanted to run and hide where her uncle could never find her, she listened to the words of the psalm the Levite choir sang:
“You
are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.”
Amina knew what she needed to do. She would pray to the God who lived in this magnificent temple and beg Him to help her and protect her. Maybe He would save her the way He had saved His people from the Egyptians. The way He had saved her and Sayfah and Hodaya on the Thirteenth of Adar.

Amina closed her eyes, praying silently as the column of smoke from the sacrifice rose to heaven.
Please, Almighty One. Please hear my prayer
and let me stay with Hodaya. I promise to worship
you all my life. To follow all your laws. . . . Please . . .
please . . .

Later they returned to Johanan’s home, where Hodaya and her family always stayed when they came to Jerusalem. Hodaya had grown up in this house, and Johanan, the man who lived here, was her nephew. He and his brother, Joshua, were temple
priests. Hodaya got swept away as she greeted her old friends and prepared for the special meal that began at sunset. But she took a moment to pull Amina and Sayfah aside and say, with tears in her eyes, “I will miss you dearly if you go away and live with your uncle. I will be overjoyed if you stay with me. But you girls must decide for yourselves what you want to do.”

The Feast of Weeks lasted late into the night, but Amina couldn’t enjoy it. She silently pleaded with the Almighty One to rescue her from her uncle the way He had rescued the Jewish people from Pharaoh. Hodaya made Amina feel loved and valued for the first time in her life, but she’d be nothing but a miserable cripple again if she returned to her people. She didn’t have a chance to talk to her sister until later that night, when she and Sayfah were alone in bed. “What are we going to do about our uncle?” she asked, wishing with all her heart that Sayfah felt the same fear and revulsion toward him she did.

“We’ll go with him, of course,” Sayfah replied. Amina’s stomach rolled over at her words. “It’s a miracle we finally found him.”

“But I don’t want to live with him!”

“We have to. We’re betraying Mama and Papa by living with their enemies. The Jews are the ones who murdered them.”

“Uncle Abdel hates me because of my leg. Did you see the way he looked at me today? Just like Papa used to. He didn’t even know my name. And remember how Papa used to tell me I was worthless? The Jews never treat me that way.”

“The Jews aren’t family, Amina. Of course we have to go home. How can you even think about staying here?”

“Please! I don’t want to go back there!” How could Amina make her sister understand the terror that strangled her at the thought of living with their uncle? “Don’t you remember how Abba used to beat us? How we lived in fear of making a mistake and angering him every day of our lives?”

“You’re exaggerating. If he beat us it was because we deserved it.”

“Nobody beats us in Hodaya’s house. Don’t you see the difference?”

“The difference is that we don’t belong here, Amina. I should have died with Mama and the others, but I didn’t. Now my place is with Uncle Abdel. And so is yours.”

“No, please! I don’t want to leave Hodaya! Please!” She began to sob. “Please don’t make me go with him, Sayfah. You can go if you want to, but please let me stay with her.”

“We’re sisters and we belong together, with our own family.”

“Sayfah, please—”

“Stop begging! I’m the oldest, and you have to do what I say.”

“I’ll die if you make me go back with him!”

“And I feel like I’m dying here with the Jews. I still can’t forgive myself for leaving Mama and the others and running away. This is my chance to make it up to them, don’t you see?”

“Sayfah, our parents left me behind, all alone, in our house that night. They never wanted me because I’m crippled. But Hodaya loves me, and I love her. You can go with Uncle Abdel if you want, but please let me stay with Hodaya. Please!”

“We can’t separate now after everything we’ve been through. Our family has been shattered into pieces already. This is the right thing to do, Amina. We’re going home with our uncle.”

Amina lay awake all night, tossing on her mat and praying to Hodaya’s God, promising to serve Him for the rest of her life if only He would save her.
I finally found someone who
loves me, Lord. Please don’t make me leave Hodaya!
I don’t care if Abdel is our uncle, he
doesn’t worship you. And I want to worship you!

Amina couldn’t eat anything the next day and didn’t sleep on the second night, either. Sayfah packed her bag early in the morning as if eager to leave, and she made Amina pack hers, too. When Jacob said it was time to return to meet their uncle,
Amina began to cry. “You poor, sweet girl,” Hodaya said, holding her tightly. “Here, take my hand, and I’ll walk there with you.” They set out together in a drizzling rain. The dreary streets glistened, and the wet building stones turned the color of ripe wheat as if the city wept along with her.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Amina sobbed as they walked. “But Sayfah says I can’t stay.” Would she ever be allowed to come to the golden city of Jerusalem again or worship at the temple?

“Be brave,” Hodaya whispered. “Ask the Holy One to make you strong.”

Much too soon, they reached the market square, which wasn’t very busy on this gray, dreary day. Amina’s uncle stood in front of his booth with his arms folded, as if he’d been watching for them. He stepped in front of them as they approached. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said before Jacob could speak. “Since you say you’ve grown attached to my nieces, I’ll take Sayfah and let you keep the crippled one.”

Amina felt a jolt of shock at the cruel rejection—and yet salvation! She felt Hodaya’s arm around her shoulder, drawing her close.

“Give me the money that’s due me when she’s old enough to marry, and you can keep her.”

Amina began to weep, knowing she didn’t have money to buy her freedom, knowing Jacob had never wanted her. Time seemed to stand still as the two men stared at each other. Then Amina watched in amazement as Jacob unfastened the pouch from his belt and handed Uncle Abdel some coins. “Will this compensate you for your loss?” he asked, his tone scornful. Abdel closed his fist around the coins and nodded. “I’ll pay your bride price, too, Sayfah,” Jacob said, turning to her. “Are you sure you want to go with him?”