Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (49 page)

All too soon it was June, time for Eliezer to return to Troyes. Abraham and Ibn Bajjah were hoping to apply their lunar model to the inner planets.

“Our progress will be slower without you,” Ibn Bajjah complained. “Can’t you return sooner, after your New Year’s holidays?”

“Let your junior partner attend the winter fair,” Abraham urged. “Then he can meet you here to collect the dyestuffs.”

Eliezer shook his head in frustration. It wasn’t a matter of Pesach’s competence. “I would miss my family too much.”

“So bring them here.” Abraham held up his hand to keep Eliezer from interrupting. “I know. Your son must continue his Talmud studies. But surely your wife and daughter can join you.”

“I’ve tried to bring Rachel to Toledo, but her father is not well.” He sighed with resignation. “The last time she came with me, her mother died while she was away.”

“A wife’s place is with her husband, not her father.” Ibn Bajjah’s tone registered his disapproval.

Abraham was equally doubtful. “You know that a married woman is only commanded to revere her parents, not honor them. Besides which, you told me that your wife has two sisters to care for your father-in-law, both of whom live near him.”

“And you know that I cannot force my wife to change her residence,” Eliezer shot back. “It’s written in her
ketubah
.”

Ibn Bajjah rolled his eyes at this. “If you cannot make her move to Toledo, then leave her in France and take another wife.”

Eliezer scowled. That was easy for Ibn Bajjah to say; he had wives in Baghdad and Toledo. “I have a concubine here, but it’s not the same.”

“What good is a wife if she won’t live where you do?” Abraham bar Hiyya asked. “But surely you can find a way to convince her to move here without forcing her.”

“Why be so attached to this wife?” Ibn Bajjah muttered to himself. “One woman is as good as another.”

Before Eliezer could respond, Abraham’s face brightened. “You don’t need to force your wife to move. Announce that you can only stay in Troyes for the summer, making it clear that you want her to join you here. Then let her decide what to do.”

 

Two months later, as Eliezer traveled over the Pyrenees, through Provence, and north to Champagne, each night he noted the movement of the moon and inner planets. At the same time, he seethed with frustration at thoughts of Abraham and Ibn Bajjah experimenting with new models and improving their calculations without him.

Who knows how far they would have advanced by the time he returned? And how long it would take him to catch up with them?

The days grew longer and his resolve strengthened. He would stay in Troyes only through the Days of Awe. Rachel could accompany him back to Toledo—or not. The decision would be hers.

twenty-seven

“Joheved, could you tell me what you think of the commentary I’ve written?” Rachel put down her spindle to pat the bench beside her. “I tried to remember everything we discussed when we studied this section before I got married.”

Usually Rachel worked on Nedarim with Miriam. But Miriam was away with a woman in labor, while Joheved had come into Troyes for Shavuot and decided to remain in town through the Sabbath. Joheved, who’d been hoping for such an invitation, took her spinning paraphernalia from her belt and headed in her sister’s direction.

First Rachel read the Talmud text:

“I remember that passage,” Joheved said. “It’s from the second chapter.”

“
Oui
. Here’s how I explain it. ‘Conversing’ refers to marital relations, and a
tefach
, as we learn in Tractate Berachot, is the amount of skin a man may expose to urinate.”

Joheved nodded. “I think you should clarify that it is a
tefach
of Ima Shalom’s clothes that her husband is revealing and hiding, until finally they are naked. Otherwise a student might think a man should perform the holy deed clothed, only exposing the smallest portion of skin necessary.”

“Good idea.” Rachel pulled a handful of wool from her distaff, tucked them into the top of her spindle, then lifted it up and let it drop. She waited until the spindle had completely descended, twisting and stretching the fiber as it fell, before winding the yarn onto her spindle.

“I like what you wrote about him seeming to be forced by a demon: that he moves with
koach
, ‘great power.’ ”

“Miriam thought it might mean that he performs the act under the blanket, so a demon can’t see them,” Rachel said.

Joheved scowled slightly as Rachel took an even larger amount of wool and spun it into a heavy length of yarn. But all she said was, “It won’t hurt to put in both reasons.”

“This next passage definitely requires some explanation:

But maybe I wrote too much.”

“I agree that it is important to explain the difference between fear, when the woman is intimidated into allowing an act she doesn’t want, and when she is physically forced or raped,” Joheved said.

“And if a husband hates his wife, he doesn’t care about her feelings, which makes it like harlotry,” Rachel explained. She turned to Joheved. “Do you think I need to say that the husband of an exchanged woman has two wives, and that he went to one thinking he was going to the other?”

“
Oui
. And also that anger doesn’t mean that the couple hates each other, only that they had a fight first.”

Rachel’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not sure about that. Some couples may enjoy relations more after they’ve been arguing.”

“I wonder if drunkenness refers to the husband or the wife,” Joheved said. “We’ll have to ask Papa.”

“Papa says another fault that can create bad children is when one of them is asleep.”

Joheved burst out laughing. “One of them is asleep? Surely this can only be the wife.”

Rachel couldn’t help but giggle. “Actually Papa meant that a man shouldn’t attempt relations when he is too exhausted to fully desire his wife; otherwise he will come to resent her.”

When Rachel stood up to let her spindle drop, twisting her wool into yarn as thick as a fuzzy caterpillar, Joheved couldn’t restrain herself. “Why are you spinning such fat yarn? You’ll use up all the wool and have only half the length I’ve spun.”

Instead of bristling at being caught misbehaving, Rachel replied calmly. “Most spinsters believe as you do, that the longer the yarn the better. But thin yarn is too weak for warp threads and can only be used for the weft.” She shook her head. “If the weavers’ family and mine didn’t spin it, we’d never have enough warp yarn for our looms.”

Joheved was immediately intrigued. “Tell me more.”

“The warp threads, which run the complete length of the broadcloth, must be strong enough to withstand being pulled taught on the loom.”

“Of course.” Joheved nodded slowly. “And to support the entire material.”

“Sometimes, when we don’t have enough thick yarn spun, we have to wind several thin threads together.”

“But that must be inefficient.”

“
Oui
,” Rachel replied. “Not only do those who spin the thin threads waste their time, but also the one who winds them.”

Joheved took some wool and awkwardly tried to spin a thicker yarn. “Oh dear. If I have to think about what I’m doing, I won’t be able to study Talmud and spin at the same time.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the gate opened and Zipporah stumbled in. “It took almost an entire day and night, but Menachem’s youngest child is safely born,” she announced, followed by a large yawn. “Get ready for a brit next week.”

Joheved jumped up to assist her exhausted daughter-in-law, leaving Rachel to bask in the knowledge that, for the first time, she and Joheved had studied Talmud together without Miriam. And Joheved had treated her as an equal.

A week before the Hot Fair opened, Rachel received a message from Guy that a group of pilgrims had arrived from Spain. Those desirous of making a pilgrimage had to obtain permission from their bishop, which meant that Guy was well informed on their comings and goings.

She hurried to the local hospice, where a burly priest eyed her lewdly before handing her several letters bearing a Hebrew recipient’s name. One of them was in her husband’s hand, addressed to Shemiah, as was the custom in Sepharad, where women’s names were never mentioned in correspondence.

Rachel quickly scanned the short missive, which said he might be delayed, but gave no reason. “Do you know if the man who wrote this was ill?” she asked.

“I didn’t see him myself, but when his wife gave me the letter, she assured me he was well,” the priest replied. “In case any of his relations should ask.”

“His wife?” Rachel managed to choke out. Surely the pilgrim was mistaken. “But he already has a wife in Troyes.”

“
Non
. I’m sure the woman said she was his wife. I’ve heard it’s quite common for the Moors and Jews there to take more than one.” His tone sounded more envious than critical.

Stunned, the only thing Rachel could think of to ask was what Eliezer’s “wife” looked like.

“She was an unusual creature, taller than most men, with skin as black as soot. That’s why I remember her so clearly.” He closed his eyes and nodded appreciatively. “Yet not at all unattractive—quite the opposite in fact.”

Rachel walked home in a daze, her fury rising as she suspected what really lay behind Eliezer’s sudden interest in new positions for using the bed. By the time night fell, she was determined to divorce the lying, traitorous dog as soon as he stepped foot in Troyes. But in the morning, she had calmed sufficiently to realize that she needed more evidence than the word of a lecherous priest.

So she attended services at the New Synagogue, near the fairgrounds, where she was more likely to find a merchant from Toledo. There she enlisted Simon and Nissim’s aid, telling them only that Eliezer was delayed and she wanted to make sure he was well. After a short consultation, they pointed out two swarthy men, one with a bushy beard and the other wearing red hose.

Her stomach tight with anxiety, Rachel approached the bearded one, asking what color fabric he thought would best suit Eliezer’s new wife. The fellow scratched his head and admitted that he had never seen Eliezer’s concubine and that she should ask Yusef. He indicated his compatriot with red hose.

Part of her wanted to go home, lock herself in her room, and cry her eyes out. But another part pushed her to question Yusef, to find out the truth, no matter how damning. So she took a deep breath and, putting on her most innocent expression, asked, “I’d like to get some nice woolens for Eliezer’s new concubine.” This was easier to say than wife. “What color would you recommend?”

“Let me think.” Yusef looked at her as if it were the most natural thing in the world for one wife to buy clothes for the second. But then where he came from, no man took another wife or concubine without the first wife’s permission.

“Red would suit Gazelle admirably, but it wouldn’t do for a concubine to wear kermes scarlet.” He shook his head. “Far too luxurious. But you can undoubtedly find some excellent cloth dyed with madder. Remember that with her height, you’ll probably need a third more fabric than is usual for a woman.”

“
Merci
. You have told me all I need to know.” Rachel hurried off in the opposite direction. She didn’t care if she appeared rude. She had to end this conversation and get away from this man who had put a name to her worst fears.

“Glad to be of help,” Yusef called out after her.

Desperate to avoid anyone she knew, Rachel headed to the nearby Paris Gate and left the city. As she strode past the lush wheat fields, conflicting voices warred within her mind.

My husband, who says he loves me, has taken another wife. How could he betray me like that?
But she’s not a wife, only a concubine, a maidservant.
Her status doesn’t matter; she lives with him and shares his bed.
He’s a man, with a man’s normal urges—would I prefer that he visits harlots?
How dare he do this to me? I’ll divorce him.
Non! Make him divorce her.
Nobody needs to divorce anyone. Once I’ve hired a fuller Eliezer won’t need to go to Toledo anymore.

Slowly her rage cooled. Instead of confronting him as soon as he arrived, she’d wait and see what he said. And she’d redouble her efforts to find a competent fuller.