The Gate of Heaven (34 page)

Demetrius looked up and cursed him, and immediately Masud began slashing at him with the whip. The beating continued until Khalid intervened. “Don't kill him, Masud. We'll get more for him if he's not all marked up.”

Masud struck him twice more, cursed him, and then spat in his face. As he walked away, Demetrius wiped the spittle from his face and turned to the man who had given him the meat. “Thank you,” he said. He picked up the offering, brushed the sand off, and began to eat.

Joseph crept into Dinah's tent, tiptoeing and with his eyes alert. When he caught sight of her, he grinned broadly, and his dark eyes began to dance with merriment. She had her back turned to him and was looking into her bronze mirror. She was primping, as usual, and Joseph moved silently across the rugs that covered the floor of the tent. He made no sound, and then he leaped and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her high up and shouting in her ear, “I've got you!”

Dinah uttered a piercing scream, dropped the mirror, and began to flail with her arms and kick with her feet. Twisting around, she saw it was Joseph and grabbed a handful of his thick hair.

“You beast! You scared me! I'll kill you!”

“You can't. You're too little,” Joseph said, laughing. He grabbed at her hand that was pulling at his hair, and the two wrestled around. He was a strong young fellow, and grabbing her, he pulled her down. He straddled her and grabbed her wrists and pinioned her. He leaned forward, ignoring her yells and whispered, “Happy birthday.”

“Let me up, Joseph!”

“You promise to be nice?”

“No.”

Joseph laughed and came to his feet. He helped her up and avoided her blows as she beat at him. “Happy birthday, Dinah. You're an old woman today.”

“Seventeen isn't old.”

Indeed, Dinah, the daughter of Jacob and Leah, did not look old. There was a freshness about her that reminded Joseph of one of the desert flowers early in the morning when the dew was still on it. Her hair was thick and glossy, brown but with a touch of auburn in it, much like Jacob's. Her gray-green eyes were a beautiful almond shape. They were her best feature, except, perhaps, for her complexion, which was smooth and very pale with only a touch of the olive coloring that her brothers had.

After Dinah stopped struggling, Joseph said, “I hope you're not expecting a present from me.”

“Of course not. Father will give me everything I want.”

Joseph glanced around the tent and laughed. “I guess he already has.” The tent, indeed, was filled with Dinah's robes and sandals and headdresses. A small shelf contained several boxes filled with jewelry, and another set of boxes held ointments and cosmetics. Joseph shook his head. “I wish Father would give me things like he does you.”

“You don't need as many things as I do,” Dinah pronounced.

“What's Father going to give you for your birthday today?”

“A servant.”

Joseph stared at her. “A what? A servant?”

“Yes. I'm going to have a maid of my very own.”

“You can't own maids. A woman can't own servants unless she's married.”

Dinah pouted. “She'll be mine, though. Father's already promised me.”

“I'd hate to be her.” Joseph shook his head and tried to look sorrowful. “She'll probably run away after about a week of your temper.”

“No she won't. She's going to be very pretty, and she'll have to do everything I say—or I'll beat her.” She went and picked up the mirror and studied her face and began arranging her hair again. “A slave trader has come to town, and the sale's today.”

“I'll go with you. I'll pick out a pretty one.”

“You're too young to think about girls.”

“That's what you think. What time is the sale?”

“Late this afternoon, but you can't go. Father and I are going alone.”

“You're not the only one that knows how to work him. I'll bet I could get him to let me go.”

Dinah suddenly laughed. “You probably can. You're as spoiled as I am.”

“Impossible!”

“Well, if you can get him to agree, then I suppose I'll have to put up with you.”

Jacob looked down at the game board that lay between him and Joseph. It was a very ornate game of Hounds and Jackals, much like he had played with his brother, Esau, when he was a boy. This one was made of ivory and had insets of gold and silver. The markers, which were carved sticks with either a jackal's head or a hound's head, had eyes of semi-precious stone. Jacob loved games of all kinds, and now he made a final move and said, “There, I win. You can't beat your father yet, young man.”

“Let's play again,” Joseph said, grinning impudently. “If you lose, you can buy me that bronze knife I've been wanting for so long.”

“What if you lose?”

Joseph laughed. He had a good laugh, and it was often heard, for he was a cheerful young man. He was bright too, brighter than any of his brothers, even at his youthful age. Rachel had bequeathed him her imagination, her quickness, her sense of humor. Jacob knew he was wrong in making such a favorite of this boy, but he could not help it. “Well, what do I win if you lose?”

“If I lose, we'll play again until I do win. You've got to get me that knife, Father. I need it.”

Dinah came in as Jacob was pondering his answer. She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. “Time to go to the sale,” she said.

“Oh, Dinah, I can't possibly go!”

“But you promised, Father.”

“It's my hip,” Jacob said. He tried to move, and pain etched its mark on his face. “It's very bad today. I just can't.”

“Is it the hip you hurt when you wrestled with the angel of the Lord?” Dinah asked.

“Yes,” Jacob said. “I can never forget that time. This hip of mine is a reminder.”

“I wouldn't think an angel of the Lord would hurt you.” Joseph's eyes conveyed puzzlement as he spoke. “God doesn't hurt people, does He?”

Jacob studied Joseph for a moment, then said, “Yes, He hurts people. Or He allows us to hurt ourselves. Most of the pain comes because we either make a bad choice or else God is trying to keep us from making a bad one.”

Joseph leaned forward, his eyes clear and his features intent. He loved to hear Jacob speak of his encounters with the almighty God and would have asked for more, but he could not, for Dinah interrupted.

“Father, please! This will be the last chance. There may not be another trader along for a year, and you promised me.”

Joseph leaned back and watched. A smile turned the corners of his lips upward, for he well knew what would be the outcome of this. Jacob would protest, and Dinah would hug him and play with his beard and stroke his hair. She would look up into his face and give him a mournful expression. Then in the end Jacob would give in. He always did!

Finally Dinah said, “You can just give me the money. Joseph and I can buy the servant.”

It took a little more persuasion, but finally Jacob threw up his hands. “All right. You'll worry me to death if I don't. Joseph, you make sure she buys a suitable servant.”

“You can count on me, Father,” Joseph said. He winked at Dinah. Both of them knew he would have little say in the matter, but his words reassured Jacob.

Jacob got up and moved painfully to get the box that he kept the coins in. He counted out several of them and said, “This is all you get.”

“Oh, just a little more! I want to get a nice servant.”

Jacob tried to resist, but in the end gave in.

Dinah kissed him, and as the two left the tent, Joseph said, “I'll look after her, Father.”

They went at once to Dinah's tent, and Joseph said fervently, “I wish I were a spoiled girl.”

“You're spoiled enough as it is. Come on. We've got to hurry.”

After Joseph and Dinah left Jacob's tent, Leah—who had sat quietly during the commotion—approached Jacob. “You spoil that girl, Jacob. She'll make life miserable for a husband. She'll expect him to give in to her like you do.” Dinah was her only daughter, and she was proud of her, but she could not resist giving Jacob a hard time.

“No, I don't spoil her. I just like to give her nice things.”

Leah sniffed. “You do that all right! She can twist you around her little finger, that girl! I wish I could handle you that well myself.” Then a sour expression twisted her mouth. “Only she can manipulate you the way Rachel can.”

Jacob said, “Well, Leah, I did promise her a servant. You had one when you were her age—Zilpah—and Rachel had Bilhah when she was no older. It's only fair.”

“You should have insisted on my going with her.”

Jacob knew he should have but said, “I didn't think of it. Don't worry. She's got a lot of sense. She'll make a good choice.”

Dinah looked at the four female slaves, all of them older women, beaten down, and not at all pretty. “I can't buy one of those!” she cried, turning to Joseph. “I want a young, pretty girl.”

Joseph shrugged his shoulders. “Men buy the young, pretty ones. They go fast.”

Dinah was furious. She had her heart set on a servant girl, and she very rarely was disappointed. “Maybe they've got some hidden somewhere in those tents over there.”

“You can ask,” Joseph shrugged. “Maybe they have.”

Dinah had been watching the master of the slaves. She approached him and said, “Pardon me, sir.”

Khalid bowed low. He recognized the richness of Dinah's clothing and the jewelry sparkling in the afternoon sun. “What can I do for you, mistress? You need, perhaps, a good slave?”

“Yes, but I need a maid. A young, pretty woman.”

“Ah, mistress, I regret that those are not available.”

“You don't have any that you're holding back?”

“If I did,” Khalid grinned, “I would certainly bring her out now. But I don't have any such thing. They go very fast, you know.”

Dinah said, “Thank you,” and turned and walked away. Joseph joined her, and they started down the line. They had not paid attention to the male slaves earlier, but suddenly Dinah stopped. “Look at that man.”

Joseph turned and saw she was pointing to a tall man who was standing stiffly. His ankles were chained and his wrists also. “He doesn't look like the others, does he?”

“I've never seen anyone like him. His skin is so fair, almost as fair as mine.” Dinah moved closer until she stood right in front of the man. “Look at his eyes. They're blue—almost like the sky.”

Joseph was not impressed. “He's been whipped. Look at those marks on his chest and probably on his back too. And he's pretty stringy.”

Dinah was walking around the man, studying him as she would an animal she intended to buy. He was dirty, and the whip marks were abundant and some of them had started to fester. “He stinks,” she said, “but he looks like he'd be strong if he were fed well.” She reached out and punched the man's chest and felt the firm muscles.