Signs and Wonders (10 page)

“Seven … Father.”

“So be it. At the end of seven years Rachel is yours. Do you think I should hire that field east of the well?”

“You will need it,” said Jacob. And he ran out of the room to look for Rachel.

For seven years Jacob served Laban as master herdsman, and there was great increase among the cattle. They grew sleek and fat and fetched high prices at the market. Each day Rachel went to the fields, driving her sheep, and they grazed their flocks together. The seven years passed like a week of days because Jacob was so much in love.

At the end of seven years, Jacob went to Laban and said: “It is seven years. I claim my bride.”

“So be it,” said Laban.

Laban prepared a great feast for Rachel’s wedding. All the wealthiest men of Haran were invited, and their wives and grown children. Calves and oxen were roasted whole in great pits, and lambs and fat young goats. Strong wine was served by the barrel. There was music of harp and psaltery, and as they gorged on the rich food, the guests watched jugglers and acrobats and dancing girls. Such feasting and revelry had never before been seen in Haran. All day the guests caroused and far into the night. Then Jacob looked at Laban, who nodded, smiling. Jacob slipped away from the feast and went to his chamber.

It was the custom at that time for the bride to be led to the groom by her father, to be taken to the wedding chamber in utter darkness, and be given into her husband’s bed. After the feast, Jacob entered the chamber, snuffed the candle, and waited upon the bed in utter darkness. He heard the heavy footsteps of Laban and the quick light steps of a maiden. Then he heard the door close, and the heavy footsteps going away, and the rustle of garments falling on the floor.

“Rachel,” he whispered.

She answered nothing, but he smelled the fragrance of her hair. A hand touched his face. He took his bride in his arms.

When he awoke, he looked at the face next to his in the gray light. And it was not the face of Rachel, but of Leah.

He sprang to his feet, roaring in anger. Leah clutched at him, but he pulled away, flung on a single garment, and stormed out of the room, seeking Laban. He searched through the house and found Laban in the counting room, counting money. He seized Laban by the beard, crying, “Liar! Cheat! Where is Rachel?”

Laban was a very strong man. He thrust aside Jacob’s hands and said: “Peace, my son. I do not mean to cheat you.”

“Do you do it without meaning to? Did you not bring Leah to my chamber in the darkness, and usher her into my bed that I might give her what I owe my bride? And in the morning, who do I see lying next to me? Not my beloved Rachel, but that blinking simpleton, Leah.”

“Do not speak so of your wife,” said Laban.

“She is not my wife, coming like a thief in the night with another’s garments and another’s scent. She stole from her sister in the cheating darkness.”

“Even as you stole from your brother,” said Laban. “I have heard the tale of the inheritance.”

“This shall be a darker tale when I finish telling it,” said Jacob. “All men shall know you for a liar and a cheat. Your sister, Rebecca, shall curse you.”

“No,” said Laban.

“Did you not promise me Rachel? Did I not work seven years for her?”

“And you shall have her. But you must take Leah first.”

“Never!”

“It is our custom,” said Laban. “The younger sister cannot wed before her elder sister. Be kind, Jacob. Take pity on the woman. She is past her ripeness and pining for a child. Without one she will wither and die. Give her a week’s husbandly service, then take Rachel. And cherish Rachel, and be merciful to Leah.”

“Two for the price of one?” said Jacob. “Or perhaps you want me to work another seven years?”

“Why not?” said Laban. “I am a man of wealth. Of flocks and herds and wide grazing lands. Gold and silver have I laid up, also. And what is mine may be yours.”

“You were not so prosperous before I came,” said Jacob. “Twentyfold have I increased your flocks, and you know it.”

“I know it,” said Laban. “God smiles upon your labors. Why else would I want you as my son and the husband of my daughters? Take thought, Jacob. You will be as my eldest son and inherit everything here—with no one to dispute your claim. Incidentally, I hear that Esau still bears his grievance.”

“So be it,” said Jacob. “A week with Leah, then I want Rachel—and no more tricks!”

“And you will stay another seven years?”

“It seems to be God’s will,” said Jacob. “He also works in darkness.”

Jacob’s Sons

In a week’s time Jacob took Rachel to his chamber and sent Leah away. He loved Rachel with all the love that was in him. But she did not conceive. The Lord saw that Leah was despised and pitied her. Jacob wanted a son and visited Leah, and God opened her womb. But Rachel remained barren.

Leah bore a child and cried, “Behold, a son!” She said: “The Lord has seen my suffering and made my husband love me.” She named the child Reuben, meaning “Behold, a son.”

But Jacob did not change. He loved only Rachel, and visited Leah rarely. Yet the next year she bore another son and said: “The Lord has heard me.” She named this one Simeon, meaning “to hear.”

Jacob loved Rachel with a great love, but Leah gave him sons. In the third year she bore a third son whom she named Levi, meaning “joined,” for she hoped that her fruitfulness would make her husband love her and join his life to hers.

But Jacob could not love Leah; he loved Rachel alone, and visited her sister only when God goaded him to get sons. Leah ripened again under God’s pity and bore a fourth son. When she saw him she said: “Praise God who makes me fruitful!” And she named him Judah, meaning “praise.”

Now, Jacob was torn in two. God was leading him on a dark and twisted journey, and he was following His light without understanding His purpose. Jacob did not know that he had been brought to Haran to beget sons. He welcomed these sons, but he could not love them as he wanted to, because they were not Rachel’s.

Rachel knew that Jacob was torn and felt herself being ripped apart. She said to him: “They say birth pains are the worst pains a woman can suffer, but I tell you, this barren agony is worse. Give me a child, or I shall die.”

“What else can I do?” cried Jacob in a rage. “Am I God Almighty who opens wombs or closes them at his pleasure?”

“Listen, my beloved,” said Rachel. “There is a way. Not the best way, but a thing that has been done. Your grandmother, Sarah, did it when she was barren. She sent Abraham to her handmaiden, Hagar, who gave him the son he wanted.”

“That son was Ishmael,” said Jacob, “the outlaw Ishmael, driven into the desert by Sarah, along with his mother. I know that tale well. It is full of jealousy, rage, and vengeance.”

“The case is different,” said Rachel. “Sarah changed after she bore a son herself. But I am barren and may remain so. And I want a child so badly that I shall enact the ancient rite of foster mothering. Go to Bilhah, my handmaiden. Plant your seed in her. When her time comes I shall be with her and imitate her labor and feel her pains. She will bear the child on my knees. I shall feel a part of this birth, and it will save me from grieving myself to death. Go tonight.”

“So be it,” said Jacob.

He visited the chamber of Bilhah, who was a spirited wench, healthy as a heifer, and very willing to please both husband and wife in this matter. She conceived and bore a son. Rachel imitated her labor and shared her pain, and she bore her child on Rachel’s knees.

Rachel said: “God has judged me and has given me a son.” She named him Dan, meaning “judgment.”

Now Jacob stopped visiting Leah altogether, and Rachel rejoiced. She knew that if he could beget sons elsewhere, he would neglect Leah completely. Therefore she urged him to visit Bilhah again. He did so. Bilhah conceived, and bore another son the same way.

Rachel said: “I have wrestled with my sister and prevailed.” She named the child Naphtali, or “wrestling.”

Then Leah said to Jacob: “How can I bear sons if you do not come to me?”

“You have borne four sons,” said Jacob.

“Your neglect has left me half-dead,” said Leah. “Don’t kill me altogether. Embrace my handmaid, Zilpah, if you cannot embrace me. And I shall know that I am of some use, and have the courage to go on.”

Jacob visited Zilpah, and she bore a son. Leah said: “Another son! A troop!” She named him Gad, meaning “troop.”

Now, Gad was a very sturdy boy, and Jacob knew that he would need warrior sons, also. So he visited Zilpah again, and she bore him another son. Leah cried: “A son again! I am happy!” She named him Asher, meaning “happy.”

Rachel hungered for a child of her own and sought out old wives, asking them for charms and potions. One old woman told her of the magic plant, mandrake, which has roots like little arms and legs and, when pulled out of the earth, makes a sound like a child crying. This plant, the old wife told her, made young wives fruitful—but it was very hard to find.

Rachel spent long hours in the fields searching for the mandrake, but she did not find it.

Now, Leah knew what her sister was doing and told Reuben to go to the field for mandrake.

“Mandrake, Mother?” cried Reuben, laughing, for he was a merry lad. “Do you wish to be more fruitful than you are? How many brothers must I have?”

“Do not jest,” said Leah. “Go.”

The men were harvesting wheat. Reuben went with them as they harvested, and searched the ground where they had passed. Reuben was red-headed like Esau, and, like Esau, had a hunter’s eye. He spotted two mandrakes and pulled them, screaming thinly, from the ground. He took them home to his mother.

Then Leah said to Zilpah, her handmaid: “Gossip with my sister’s maid, Bilhah. Let it drop that Reuben has found a mandrake.”

Zilpah did so, and Bilhah ran to Rachel, crying, “Mistress, mistress, Reuben has found a mandrake!”

Rachel went to Leah and said: “I have never asked you for anything, but I do now. Give me, I pray, the mandrake that your son has found.”

“You do not ask,” said Leah. “You take. You took my husband. You shall not have my mandrake.”

“Please.”

“Beg and plead all you like. You shall not have it.”

“I must have it. I’ll give you something you want.”

“You have nothing I want.”

“I have everything you want. I have Jacob. He is entirely mine, but I will let you have him for a little while if you give me the mandrake.”

This was a bitter thing for Leah to hear. But she wanted Jacob so much that she listened.

“Well,” said Rachel, “make up your mind. Your mandrake will hire my husband for three nights.”

Two desires wrestled in Leah: to have Jacob, and to deny Rachel. But a thought came to her: “When he visits me, I conceive. If I bear thrice more—and she remains barren despite the mandrake—then he will know that no charm can make her ripe and may begin to love me, the mother of sons.”

“Take the mandrake,” said Leah. “And see to it that you keep your part of the bargain.”

Leah was visited by her husband that night, and she conceived. She bore a son and named him Issachar, meaning “hire.” Rachel remained barren.

Jacob visited Leah again, according to agreement; again she conceived. And again she bore a son. “I am a despised bride,” she said. “But God has given me a rich dowry. Jacob will surely dwell with me now that I have given him six sons.” She named this one Zebulun, meaning “dwell.”

Jacob visited Leah again on the third of the appointed nights. She conceived. The child she bore this time was a girl. Leah did not love this one; not because it was a girl but because it was beautiful and reminded her of Rachel. “God has judged me for bribing Rachel with the mandrake,” she said to herself. She named the girl Dinah, meaning “judged.”

But Jacob’s love never swerved from Rachel, though she bore him no child. They cherished each other as in their first days together.

Then God pitied Rachel and opened her womb. In wonder and joy she told Jacob that she had conceived, and he wept for happiness. She labored and bore a son—a beautiful child with skin like a sun-warmed apricot and his mother’s gem-green eyes. And Jacob who had sired ten sons now knew for the first time the wild protective strength of true fatherhood. His ten sons together counted for less to him than this last son who was Rachel’s.

“God has taken away my reproach,” said Rachel. “A son of our own has been added to our love by our love.” She called the boy Joseph, meaning “added.”

Jacob Becomes Israel

By this time Jacob had served Laban for fourteen years. He went to Laban and said: “It is time to leave. I will take my wives and children and go back to Canaan.”

“So soon?”

“Soon? Fourteen years?”

“Too soon,” said Laban. “I still need your labor, and you need my wage. If you leave now you shall take nothing—except two wives, two handmaids, eleven sons, and a daughter, all of whom will have to be fed on the long journey. How will you feed them?”

“Do you mean that after fourteen years you will pay me nothing out of that flock that I have increased fiftyfold?”

“You have had your wage,” said Laban. “Leah was your wage for the first seven years, Rachel for the next seven years. That was the agreement. I promised nothing else.”

“My children are your grandchildren,” said Jacob. “Would you let them starve?”

“If their father chooses to leave them in need, what is a grandfather to do? A father’s will prevails. Come now, be sensible. You have worked off your bride fees. Now work for a wage. I will pay you generously.”

“Forgive me, Laban, but I do not trust your generosity. If you wish me to work for you one day more, we must have an exact and binding agreement.”

“Speak, then. What do you want?”

“With God’s help I will increase your flocks and herds as I have before. Give me half the increase.”

“Half? Equal shares? Impossible.”

“A third.”

“Out of the question. How about one in every hundred of the increase? If you work diligently and stay lucky, you can leave here after some years with a nice little flock of your own.”

“Laban, farewell,” said Jacob. “Tomorrow I take my wives and children and leave for Canaan. God brought me here and will take us back.”