The Gate of Heaven (18 page)

“What…? Stop that!” Laban came out of his drunken slumber with his head splitting, gasping and clawing at his face. “What have you done?” He looked up to see Ziva standing over him. She had a wide-mouthed jar in her hand and had thrown the water in his face. “I'll kill you!” he shouted.

“Shut your mouth, old man,” Ziva spat back. When he reached out for her, she lifted the jar in both hands and cried, “I'll break this over your head if you come any closer!”

“No! What are you doing? What's wrong with you?”

“Listen to me, Laban….”

Laban pulled himself together and listened—not comprehending at first—and then when the truth of what Ziva had said broke in on him, he stared at her. “Leah is married to Jacob?”

“Yes. It's done, and there's nothing to do about it.”

“Why did you do this, you foolish old woman?”

“Leah needs a husband, and she loves Jacob. You know she's never loved anybody else.”

Laban stared at his wife. “You know what you've done? Mehor will kill us all!”

“No he won't,” Ziva replied grimly. She cackled suddenly, a harsh laughter coming from her thin lips. “I've taken care of that.”

Laban struggled to his feet, still wiping his face. He was dripping with the water she had thrown over him, and he stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“There's one man meaner and tougher than Mehor, and that's his father. I went to him and bribed him. He's been paid, and Mehor will do whatever he says.”

“What did he say?”

“He said if his son bothered any of our family, he would break his head. He'll do it too—and maybe worse. You know what a vicious old goat he is. Like a bear.”

Laban took that in slowly and then nodded as he stroked his scraggly beard. “Well, that's good. I'm glad he's out of our way. The man always frightened me.”

“Listen to me now—you're going to have to talk to Jacob. He's going to come to you, and you need to get ready for him.”

“You mean he's going to kill me?”

“Don't be foolish—any more than you can help. He's not going to kill anybody, but he's going to be very angry.”

“Well, you talk to him.”

“I would, but the world is run by men,” Ziva said bitterly. “Now, listen. This is what we'll do, and this is what you must tell him….”

Laban was well prepared for Jacob's visit, but if he had not been, he might have collapsed immediately, for Jacob rushed into his tent with his eyes burning. Laban said nothing at all as Jacob shouted and ranted and raved. Once he even started for Laban as if to choke the life out of him, but Ziva had taught her husband well, and he simply sat there saying nothing until Jacob's fury began to subside. “You crazy old man! You're all crazy! Your wife is worse than you are.”

Laban tried to put a word in. “Listen, Jacob. This isn't all that bad—”

“I've worked for a woman's hand for seven years, and now you give me different one! You think that's not bad? I worked like a slave for you, Laban, and you've given me nothing! I ought to wring your scrawny neck!”

Laban raised his hand in a frightened gesture, for he had never seen such fiery passion, and he actually feared for his neck. “Listen to me, Jacob, just for one minute.”

“What do you have to say, old man?”

Laban hesitated, then said, “I had nothing to do with this. You've got to believe me. It was Ziva's idea. She and Leah cooked this up between them. I didn't know a thing about it until this morning.”

Jacob knew that his new father-in-law was capable of lies and deceit and of almost anything else, but somehow he believed the old man. He stared at him bitterly and finally nodded. “All right. It's done, but I'll have satisfaction.”

“Look, son,” Laban said and tried to smile, “it's a custom in our country that the elder daughter marry before the younger ones.”

“But I love Rachel, and everyone knows it. Don't you feel any sorrow or grief for her? She's been robbed too!”

“It doesn't have to be that way.”

“What are you talking about? We can't undo a marriage.”

“No, but you can take Rachel as your wife as well.”

Jacob stood stock-still. He had been so befuddled with passion for Leah, and then afterward had become so angry with Laban, he had not thought straight. Suddenly he lifted his head. “Yes,” he said firmly, “I must have Rachel for my wife.”

“That's easy enough. We'll make the same arrangement we made with Leah.”

Instantly Jacob's rage rose again. “You crazy old man! You think I'm going to wait seven more years for her?”

“No, no! You can marry her right away. We'll have another wedding—yours and Rachel's. In a week you'll have her for your wife, and I'll give you Bilhah, her handmaiden.” He smiled shiftily and added, “But you must work for me another seven years.”

Jacob stood before the twisted old man and thought rapidly. He knew he could not go home. He had no other place, and he also knew he must have Rachel. He made an instant decision. “All right. I will work for you seven more years for Rachel, but I claim her as my bride within a week.”

Laban sighed with relief. “It shall be done. Now perhaps you'd better go talk to her. She's probably in poor shape.”

Jacob entered the tent and found Rachel stretched out facedown on her bed. He knelt down beside her and touched her shoulder. “Rachel,” he said softly, “come up.”

Rachel did not move at first, and then when she turned over, he saw that her face was red with weeping and her eyes were swollen. The sight of her touched his heart, and he said, “Come. Let me hold you.”

“I can't. You are a married man.”

“Listen to me, Rachel. I knew nothing about this. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, I know,” Rachel sobbed. “It was Ziva and Leah! Oh, Jacob…what are we going to do?”

“It's going to be all right, Rachel.”

“No, no, no! It's
never
going to be all right!”

Jacob saw that reasoning with her was impossible. He pulled her across his lap and held her. With his left hand he supported her and with his right hand he pushed back her silky black hair, then wiped the tears from her face. “Don't cry, my little moon!”

“How can I help it? My life is ruined.”

“No, it's not ruined.”

“I hate Leah and that mother of hers!”

“I can understand that.”

“You mustn't be doing this.” Rachel pushed at him, and her eyes were filled with tragedy.

“Rachel, I've loved you ever since I first saw you,” Jacob said quietly. He felt her trembling, and he smoothed her hair with his free hand. “In my sight you're the most beautiful creature the Lord ever made, and in one week you and I will be married. You and I will be husband and wife.”

Rachel grew absolutely still. Her eyes flew open, and her lips parted. “You…you mean it, Jacob?”

“Of course. I've just been talking to your father. It's all settled. I'll work for seven more years, but we'll be married. We'll have another wedding in a week, and you and I will be one.”

“But what about Leah?”

“She will be my wife too.” Jacob then kissed Rachel and felt a great wave of tenderness. “She will be my wife…but you, Rachel, will always be the Beloved Wife. It's the title I give you, and you will always be the one closest to my heart.”

With a short, passionate cry, Rachel threw her arms around Jacob's neck and put her face down on his chest. He held her as he would a child and stroked her back. “Don't cry. We're going to be happy, and you will always be the Beloved Wife.”

A flight of dark birds divided the air over Jacob's head, forming evanescent shapes in a beautiful pattern. He paused, fascinated, and stared up into the sky as it turned crimson over in the west. When the birds disappeared over the horizon, he continued to walk rapidly toward the flock of sheep that fed at the base of a low hill ahead of him. When he was close, he called out, “Hello, Nomar.”

“Hello, master.” A young man approached and stood before Jacob. He was no more than sixteen, but bright-eyed and lean as a skinned rabbit. “Are you a father yet, master?”

Jacob smiled briefly. There was no privacy among the people, and everyone he had met had asked him the same question. “I wasn't when I left home this morning, but any day now.”

“May you have a beautiful boy and many of them.” Nomar smiled.

“Thank you, Nomar.” Jacob put his hand on the young man's shoulder. He was the best of his hired herdsmen. The young man had come into the camp one day starved, dirty, ragged, and half dead. Laban had ordered him out, but Jacob had overridden that order and fed the boy. He had made a herdsman out of him and now could see in him the promise of a fine man to come. “How are the sheep?” he asked.

“Four ewes gave birth last night,” Nomar said proudly. “I had to help with one of them, but the lamb is fine. You are richer now, master.”

Not me. Laban is richer
. Laban never gave him anything. Still, he did not need to say this to the boy. “When you come in tonight, I'll have Rachel fix you some special cakes as a reward for helping that new lamb into the world.”

Nomar's eyes lit up. “Thank you, master. I look forward to eating them.”

“Come in as soon as you are relieved.”

Jacob turned and began jogging toward the hill that lay before him. He wanted to hurry home to Rachel, as he did every day. Life had been hard trying to keep his two wives happy. He loved Rachel more than he could have ever imagined loving a woman. She satisfied the deepest needs of his heart, filling his eyes with her beauty and his ears with her stories and songs. Rarely was she far from his thoughts.

Leah, however, was another story. She still had the power to draw him into bed with her wiles, but since she had become pregnant, she had become difficult to live with. It was impossible for Jacob to conceal his preference for Rachel, and Leah had begun taunting her younger sister with her lack of a child. She did this openly and with scorn, and Rachel had no answer for it. Jacob had taken Leah aside twice already and threatened her sternly that she must never do such a thing again, and Leah had behaved—but only for a time.

These thoughts troubled Jacob as he increased his speed. He was pleased that he had grown tougher and more physically able over the past years at Paddan Aram. He gloried in his strength. As the camp came into view, he saw Rachel's tent. She had dyed the hides a light sky blue, and anyone coming into the camp saw it instantly. It stood out among the tents for its beauty, exactly as Rachel stood out among women for her beauty. Men's eyes could not miss the tent, nor did they ever miss seeing the beauty of Rachel.

As he came into the camp, he saw that Rachel was waiting for him. She came running quickly, and when she stood before him, breathless, her eyes were wide. “Leah is with the midwife. Her time has come.”

Jacob forgot everything else and broke into a dead run toward Leah's tent. He halted by the tent flap, where an old woman was stepping out. “Lamah, how is she?” Jacob said anxiously. “Is the baby here?”

The old midwife glared at him. “Where have you been?” she squeaked. “No time for a husband to be running off!”

“Is the baby here?” Jacob demanded.

“Not yet but soon.” The old woman turned without another word and disappeared into the tent. Jacob fidgeted, unable to stand still. He began to pace, and soon Laban came by and said, “A son, you think, boy?”

“I hope so,” Jacob said shortly. He had little use for Laban, for the old man cheated him constantly. Jacob continued to pace, saying no more, and Laban shuffled away.

The wait was agonizingly long. Four hours after Jacob had arrived, Rachel brought him some food. While he ate she said, “It will soon be over, and you will be a father.”