The Gate of Heaven (23 page)

Lomach looked up, too drunk to move. His words slurred together. “I don' hafta pay no 'tention to you. You're no relative. You're just a hired hand.”

Jacob reached down and grabbed Lomach by the hair. The man let out a scream of pain, but Jacob paid no heed. Pulling him to his feet, he held on firmly and slapped his face back and forth three times.

Startled, Benzar scrambled to his feet and yelled, “You can't do that—”

But Jacob stopped his outburst, grabbing him by the hair and banging the heads of the two men together. He shoved them down, and when Benzar tried to struggle back to his feet, Jacob kicked him on the backside. Then he did the same to Lomach, shouting, “You get to work or I'll kill you!”

Laban had come out of his tent at the commotion, and he stood staring at the fracas, petrified. He had never seen Jacob in such a rage. He started to leave, but Jacob whirled and said, “And you, old man, you're not too old to work.” He ran toward Laban, grabbing him by the robe and holding his arm. The old man struggled helplessly against the younger man's strength. Jacob's eyes were filled with rage, and he hollered, “You and your drunken sons can do your share of the work or I'm done with all of it!”

Jacob released him, and Laban staggered backward, staring after his son-in-law in a daze. Lomach and Benzar got to their feet, holding their heads. They staggered over to Laban, saying, “You won't let him do that, will you, Father?”

Leah had come out of her tent during the last part of the scuffle. She was close to giving birth and could not move quickly. Her eyes were cold at the sight before her as she laughed in scorn. “Aren't you three pretty ones! Are you going to let him do that to you?”

Laban shrank from her taunt and muttered, “That fellow is dangerous. He could kill somebody with that rage.”

“The three of you are pretty babies indeed!” Leah spat. She was disgusted with her father and his sons. They were half brothers to her, but she never acknowledged any relationship to them. She was also furious that Jacob had been spending so much of his time with Rachel. She put her hand on her stomach and shook her head. “I don't need another son, and I pray he won't be like my father or those two worthless sons of his.”

Jacob stalked out of the camp and let his rage dissipate. His head swarmed with angry thoughts, mostly at Laban for the way he had cheated him out of his wages for years. The impulse came simply to leave, but as he walked off his anger, he realized he could not do that with Rachel in such poor shape.

Finally he turned and walked heavily back to Rachel's tent. He stepped inside and found her seated on a mat on the floor, just staring into space. Jacob hesitated, then went over and sat down beside her. Putting his arm around her, he held her close and said, “Did you hear that fight I had with your father?” He waited for an answer, but Rachel did not speak, did not even indicate she had heard him. Leaning closer, he saw in the faint light of the tent that she had been weeping. Her eyes were swollen, and he whispered, “Rachel…my beloved Rachel! What's wrong with you?”

Still there was no answer, and Jacob sat there for a long time. Fear gripped his heart as he thought about losing this woman. He knew he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone on earth, and he began to pray to the Almighty, asking His favor.

To Laban's great relief, Jacob went to work the next day. Benzar and Lomach avoided him, keeping their eyes on him from a distance, but Jacob's rage appeared to be gone.

Jacob was ashamed of himself for having lost his temper, but at least it had accomplished one thing: his two worthless brothers-in-law had been frightened into working, at least some of the time.

When Jacob began work at the end of that week, he was met by Laban, whose face had a peculiar expression.

“What is it?” Jacob asked at once.

“It's Leah.”

“Has the baby come?” Jacob was ashamed of his treatment of Leah. He knew he had neglected her lately, but he had been so troubled about Rachel, he could not think properly. Leah was a hard woman to love anyway. Her appeal for him had always been physical, but now even that had passed away. He was actually surprised when she had gotten pregnant again.

“Yes,” Laban said, “and it's a girl this time.”

“A girl?” Jacob said, astonished. After ten sons, the arrival of a girl was indeed a surprise. He shoved past Laban and went into the tent, where he found the old midwife Lamah cleaning up from the birth.

Moving over to Leah, Jacob bent down and put his hand on her head. “Was it a hard time?” he asked gently.

“No, not this time. We have a daughter.”

“Yes. Let me see.” Jacob picked up the baby and saw that her hair was the same chestnut color as his own. “A fine girl,” he said.

“You always wanted sons.”

“We have plenty of sons,” Jacob said, smiling. “This one will be special.” He kissed the baby's forehead and said, “What will we call her?”

“Her name is Dinah.”

“Dinah. A fine name,” Jacob said with approval. He held her up, bracing her back with one hand, and felt a gush of affection. A girl would be better. Someone he could pour his affection on openly. He could not do that with boys, especially as they grew. He laughed and said again, “This one will be very special indeed.”

Leah was surprised at Jacob's pleasure; she had expected him to be disappointed. Wearily she closed her eyes and said, “I expect you will spoil her terribly.”

“You're right about that. What is an only daughter for if not to spoil?” Jacob was surprised at the warmth he felt toward his little girl. He had not known he wanted a daughter, but now he was pleased and excited. “You and I will be great friends,” he whispered. “You will grow up and please your father in everything you do.”

“No woman could ever do that,” Leah said jadedly, closing her eyes.

Jacob shook his head. “This one will,” he said. “She'll be everything a woman ought to be!”

A distant muffled voice spoke to Rachel. She struggled to understand, concentrating on who might be speaking to her. The voice spoke again—this time more clearly, right in her ear.

“Mistress, please let me help you.”

The mist in Rachel's mind cleared away, as if she were coming out of deep sleep. The features of the woman next to her swam in disarray, then pulled themselves together, and she saw the face of Bilhah.

“What did you say, Bilhah?”

Rachel could see that Bilhah was relieved. Her wrinkled brow relaxed, and she reached out and touched Rachel's hair.

“Your hair is so dirty, mistress, and you need a bath. And look at your robe. You spilled food all over it.”

Looking down, Rachel saw that her robe was indeed spotted with dried food. She tried to remember when it had happened but could not. She could not even remember the last time she ate. She touched the food smudges and looked up. “I'm sorry,” she said.

“Oh, it doesn't matter. I can wash the robe—and let me clean your face and wash your hair.”

Rachel touched her hair and found it stiff with dirt, and she pulled at it, not remembering when it was last washed. Events came and went in her mind, and she could not piece them together in a logical time sequence.

“All right, Bilhah.”

The maidservant began to clean Rachel up. She removed her robe and washed her thoroughly with tepid water, then put a clean robe on her and had her lie back while she washed her hair. For Rachel it seemed to take a long time, and she listened to the sounds of children laughing outside the tent.

“Where are the boys?” she asked finally.

“Dan and Naphtali? That's who you hear outside. Would you like to see them?”

Rachel tried to concentrate on the question but could not. In terror, she felt herself slipping away, and she knew that something was dreadfully wrong with her. Random thoughts ran through her mind and memories of faces, especially Jacob's face. She cried out, “Jacob…husband!” But even as she cried, she felt herself going away again to that murky place she hated. She tried to stop herself, but it was as if she had fallen off of some high mountain cliff and was now plunging down. The voice calling her grew more distant as the depths below darkened and she could no longer hear the woman. She had forgotten her name in any case.

“…and she came to herself, and I asked if I could clean her up, and I did, master. But while I was washing her hair, she slipped away again.” Bilhah's face twisted with emotion as she looked down at Rachel. She had such a great love for her mistress, and now she picked at her robe and tears filled her eyes. “What's wrong with her, Jacob?”

“I don't know, Bilhah. Something dreadful.”

Jacob had come quickly at Bilhah's urgent summons and had entered the tent to find Bilhah weeping and Rachel lying down, clean now but with her eyes closed. She did not awaken when he called to her.

“Sometimes she seems to know everything,” Bilhah whimpered, “but at other times it's like she just goes away somewhere. I'm frightened for her.”

Jacob bit his lower lip. “So am I, Bilhah. So am I.”

“She's always been so careful to take care of herself. She loves to take baths and have me wash her hair, and now she doesn't care.”

Jacob did not respond. Everyone could see that Rachel had been growing worse. Some said she was touched with evil spirits, and they refused to even get close to her. If it had not been for Bilhah, who had devoted almost all of her waking hours to taking care of her, Jacob did not know what he would have done. Now sitting beside his favorite wife—the Beloved Wife—he stroked her hair and tried to pray. But the words would not come. He had prayed and prayed until there was nothing left to say. He had fasted, and sleep had left him, but still Rachel had gone away from him.

Finally he arose and said, “I'm going out someplace where I can be alone.”

“Keep praying for her, master,” Bilhah said. “I'm afraid she's going to die.”

“She's not any better, daughter,” Laban said heavily. He looked across at Leah, who was nursing Dinah and shook his head sadly. “Why has this come upon us?”