Poisoned Honey: A Story of Mary Magdalene (16 page)

I reached under the mattress. “There’s nothing there but the packet of herbs Safta gave me.”

The packet
, chirped Tsippor.
Take a close look
.

I pulled out the packet of coarse linen. It was heavier than I’d expected. I held it up to the light. The stitches closing the packet were not in Safta’s style, or Safta’s thread. Cutting the stitches with a small knife, I dug a pottery figure out of the dried herbs.

It was a woman in ornate dress except for her naked torso, clustered with breasts like grapes. My heartbeat sped up. This was an image of the goddess Artemis of Ephesus, like the figurines I’d seen in the market.

My first thought was to get rid of the nasty thing.
Lunging at the railing, I flung the pottery figure over the rooftops as far as I could. Then I wondered who’d hidden it. Could it have been Eleazar? Surely not, a respectable member of the Jewish assembly! But maybe he was desperate for a son to replace the one he’d lost. I hadn’t become pregnant yet, and Artemis was a fertility goddess.

Down in the courtyard, the gate opened and the servant said,
“Shalom
, master.” Eleazar was home already, and I hadn’t filled the basin to wash his feet. I hurried down the stairs.

Sweating and panting, Eleazar sank heavily onto a bench. Even in the shade, the black paving stones of the courtyard seemed to breathe heat like the inside of an oven.

Chava sat down beside Eleazar and kissed his hand. “Welcome home, Father-in-law. I’m afraid you’ve overexerted yourself in this heat.”

Eleazar grunted and waved his other hand. “I had to consult with Elder Thomas again, and Elder Thomas lives at the top of the city, so I had to exert myself. I’ll soon be in my grave—not that it matters.”

“How can you say such a thing, Father-in-law? If you left us, my suffering would know no bounds.” Lifting his fringed robe from his shoulders, Chava folded it reverently. “I’ll bring a fresh tunic.”

I knelt in front of my husband to untie his sandals. The paving stones scorched my knees through my robe. I washed
the grime from his feet, dried them with a towel, and carried the basin away.

Meanwhile, Chava returned with the clean tunic and helped Eleazar change. “I’ve been wondering, Father-in-law,” I heard her say. “You must have good reasons for allowing magic to be practiced within your walls.”

About to pour the dirty water into the alley, I paused at the gate. Why was Chava hinting about magic? Did she know about the Artemis figurine hidden under the mattress? If Eleazar had put it there, how would he explain that to her?

“Eh?” Eleazar sounded annoyed, not guilty. “What are you talking about—that my brother’s wife casts little charms to prevent gray hair? It’s too hot for your gossip and women’s squabbles!”

“I’m only thinking of you, Father-in-law, and your standing in the assembly,” Chava said in a hurt voice. “Maybe the elders wouldn’t consider a heathen Egyptian amulet as real magic.”

Eleazar scowled. “Amulet? What amulet?”

“The amulet in your wife’s jewelry basket.” Chava’s voice sank to a whisper, but I understood her words perfectly well.

And suddenly I understood her plan. I turned and stared across the courtyard at her.

“Look in her basket for yourself, if you don’t believe me,” Chava went on.

Eleazar puffed his lips out impatiently. But he said, “Very well, bring the basket. Wife,” he called to me, “come here.”

“If anything’s in my basket, it’s because Chava put it there!” I protested. But Eleazar beckoned without answering. I crossed the courtyard again, still holding the basin of dirty water. Meanwhile, Chava hurried up the stairs and returned with my jewelry basket. “Look under the lining, Father-in-law,” she urged.

“Don’t you see what she’s doing?” I exclaimed. “How would she know what to find, unless she put it there herself?”

Paying no attention to me, Eleazar lifted the lid of the basket. He pulled the cloth lining away from the basket and picked up a beetle the size of an apricot half. It wasn’t a real insect—this beetle was carved in polished green stone.

Eleazar’s jaw dropped, showing his yellow lower teeth. He looked as frightened as he did angry, and I was glad in spite of the trouble I was in. He shook the amulet at me. “What is this unclean thing you have brought into my household?”

“Ask
her
that question!” I snapped.

Then my hands, acting by themselves, tilted the basin. They flung the gray water in Chava’s face, drenching her head and shoulders. I let out a horrified giggle.

“Are you possessed?” Eleazar shouted at me.

Chava, sputtering and wiping her face with her shawl, shot me a look of hatred. She said, “Father-in-law, I fear she
is
possessed. I didn’t want to worry you, but this isn’t the first time she’s attacked me.”

The lie struck me speechless, or so I thought. “It won’t be the last time, you snake-woman!” The words seemed to chirp in my ear, but by the expressions on Eleazar’s and Chava’s faces, I knew that I’d spoken them myself.

In a panic, I seized my jewelry basket and ran up the stairs to the roof. I cowered against the railing, my heart pounding so hard that it seemed to push me away from the plaster with each beat. What would Eleazar do to me now?

Down in the courtyard, Chava’s voice went on. “You see, Father-in-law? I’m worried for the honor of your house. As I told you, I’ve noticed other signs. Often she seems to be absent in spirit, or communing with unseen beings. She stares into the air and talks when no one is there.”

“This is not the kind of wife I bargained for,” Eleazar agreed. After a moment’s pause, he said, “Elder Thomas advised against putting her aside, although I have the right. But he might change his mind if he saw this”—he must mean the scarab—“and knew of her uncontrolled behavior.”

“There are families with more suitable girls,” said Chava.

“But
ai
!” sighed Eleazar. “What a lot of trouble! And her
uncle and brother would be angry. Not that they have any right, after all I’ve done for them. Besides, they’d have to hold their tongues if they wanted to keep the sardine business in Tiberias.”

I felt sick. Susannah’s rumor was true—Eleazar had been thinking of divorcing me. So Chava had been civil to me only to keep me in ignorance while she plotted. My visits to the house where the Egyptian woman lived made it easy to cast suspicion on me.

I felt small claws clutch my shoulder, and the invisible sparrow chirped,
Yes, you could become a pitiable creature, like Yael. But you don’t have to let them do this to you. Remember, you have power
.

“Quiet!” I muttered. The sparrow said no more, for the time being.

After my outburst, the household was ominously calm. Eleazar called me to serve the evening meal as usual. We ate on the rooftop, where the air was a little less steamy. Then we prepared for bed. Chava pretended to fluff up Eleazar’s mattress, but I saw her poking under it. “What’s this?” she asked loudly.

“Well, what is it?” I asked even louder. I knew what she was looking for, and I knew it wasn’t there. I smiled as she drew out the packet of dried herbs and felt for the figurine—
which, of course, lay shattered in a nearby alley. It was good to see her blink in disappointment and shoot me an angry glance.

“Will you women never stop bickering?” Eleazar demanded. “I need my rest. In the morning, I’ll decide what’s to be done.”

So all of us went to bed. I suppose I was worn out, because I had barely time to quiet myself and enter my secret garden before I fell asleep. As I drifted off, I seemed to see a group gathering around me, talking among themselves.
This is our chance
, I heard one say.

Sometime later, I opened my eyes. Judging by the stars, it was the middle of the night. I edged off the bed, where Eleazar lay snoring. Chava, too, looked fast asleep on her couch.

A plan was laid out in my mind, fully formed:

If Eleazar were struck with a malady, he wouldn’t have the strength to divorce me.

I knew a curse for bringing on illness. Ramla had explained it to me because it was close to the charm for healing, and you had to be careful not to mix up the two procedures.

The curse was supposed to work best on a moonless night—like tonight.

So I crept down the stairs from the rooftop to the
courtyard. It seemed natural to hear a woman’s cultured voice speaking Greek (which, somehow, I understood perfectly) in my ear.
First, you’ll need a doll
.

Lighting a little lamp with a coal from the hearth, I found a greasy rag. I rolled and tied it into a figure with a head, two arms, and two legs.

I propped the rag figure on the bench where Eleazar usually sat to have his feet washed. I pronounced the curse: “
Abrasax
. Let the words of his mouth forsake him.”

That was all I meant to say, but then the voice asked,
What if Eleazar writes out his wishes? Chava couldn’t read them, but Elder Thomas could
.

My voice whispered on, “
Abrasax
. Let the strength of his right hand also forsake him.”

The dirty rag figure pitched forward off the bench, as if an unseen finger had pushed it, and landed on one side. Drawing in my breath sharply, I put a hand to my mouth. What had I done?

Quickly I picked up the rag, untied it, and tucked it into its corner by the oven. Then I hurried up the stairs. On the rooftop, nothing seemed different. Eleazar was snoring as loudly as before. Chava, too, was still asleep. Somewhere in the neighborhood, a rooster crowed.

I waited for a moment, then unrolled a mat and lay down
beside Eleazar’s bed. The woman’s voice that had directed me through the curse was silent. As far as I could tell, nothing had happened.

“Father-in-law! What is it? Speak to me, dear Father-in-law! What’s the matter?”

Chava’s cries woke me up from strange dreams. In the light of dawn, I saw Chava bending over Eleazar’s bed.

My husband was making donkeylike noises. “Aa-ee. Eh-oh-a.” Waving one arm, he repeated the noises, louder, as if he expected Chava to understand him.

I scrambled to my feet. At a gesture from Chava, I helped her raise Eleazar to a sitting position. His eyes rolled, and he kept trying to speak, but only donkey noises came out of his mouth. The right side of his face sagged, and his right arm—the one I was holding—hung limp.

“Let him down gently! Bring water!” cried Chava. “Run, tell Hiram!”

Eleazar’s cousin Thomas, the elder of the synagogue, came as soon as he heard the bad news. His silver-clasped belt was on crooked, and the silk tassels of his coat were tangled. I was surprised to see him distressed; I hadn’t thought he cared much about Eleazar.

Now I was sure that this wise, pious, important man would know at once who was to blame. When his glance fell on me, I felt sick with fear. But Elder Thomas paid no further attention to me, except for a general nod of greeting to all us women. After questioning Hiram about what had happened, he climbed up to the roof, where his cousin lay in bed.

Eleazar tried to speak, but Elder Thomas hurriedly hushed him. “Rest, cousin! Save your strength, and soon
you’ll be hopping around again like old times, when we were boys playing by the lake.” He recited the prayer for the sick: “May the One who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, bless Eleazar bar Yohannes with healing….”

As he left, Elder Thomas seemed more worried than before. He muttered to himself, “Shame on me, for letting the old man climb the hill in the heat! It was too much for him.” To Hiram, he pronounced, “I will send my physician.”

I was frightened all over again when the physician, a learned Greek, arrived. Surely he would detect the signs of a curse on Eleazar. But the physician only questioned Hiram about Eleazar’s activities the day before. When Hiram told how his half brother had walked all the way to the top of the city in the heat, the physician shook his head gravely.

Like Elder Thomas, he ignored us women, except to prescribe broth (“I knew that already,” muttered Chava) and absolute quiet for the stricken man. For now, Eleazar was not to be moved, so the serving man adjusted the awning on the rooftop to shade his bed. The Greek also advised Hiram to take his brother to the mineral springs at the Tiberias spa, when he was well enough to travel in a litter.

After the physician left and Hiram went off on a matter of business, I wandered around the house in a daze. No one had any idea how powerful I was! Elder Thomas, the
Greek physician, Hiram, even Chava, who’d accused me of witchcraft—none of them realized that I’d actually harnessed the forces of the unseen world! The idea made me giddy. I wanted to laugh out loud.

All that day, Chava hardly left her father-in-law’s side. Hiram’s wife and the cousin tiptoed up to the roof, offering to help, but she waved them away. Chava sponged Eleazar’s forehead, adjusted his pillows, and lifted his head to spoon broth into the good corner of his mouth. Every once in a while, I climbed to the top of the stairs to observe them. My husband, struggling to move, reminded me of a crushed wasp flailing its legs.