The Gate of Heaven (44 page)

Jacob could say nothing more. He left the tent, bitterness welling up in him. He was walking almost blindly, preoccupied with his troubles and with his daughter's heartache, when Demetrius stepped beside him. “How is she, master?”

“She's torn apart on the inside.” The two walked together, and Jacob said, “I don't know what the right thing to do is. She doesn't want to marry the prince.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No, I can't. But I don't see any other way. No man would have a woman who is not a virgin.”

“They do it all the time,” Demetrius said sharply. “If a man loves a woman, he won't hold her past against her.”

Jacob was surprised. This man was constantly surprising him. “Do you think there are men like that?”

“You're a man like that yourself, master. If such a thing had happened to your Beloved Wife, Rachel, would you have turned from her?”

“No, I would not have.” Jacob suddenly felt ashamed at what he was doing, but he shook his head. “It has to be, Demetrius.”

Demetrius did not answer, but one look at his face and Jacob knew that the tall young man violently disagreed. He bade him good-bye, saying, “Thank you again for what you did for my daughter.”

The bargain was made, along with agreements concerning dowry and mundane things that Jacob and his family were not really interested in. The king agreed to submit all of the men of his country to the rite of circumcision, and Simeon professed himself satisfied. He said little, and Jacob was surprised at this, for he and Levi had been the loudest in their cries for vengeance. Now they seemed satisfied with the agreement of Hamor and Shechem to be circumcised along with all of their house.

“I can't understand Simeon and Levi,” Jacob said to Rachel. “They were all ready to form an army to go wipe out the king—or try to.”

“I don't understand them either,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “But I'm glad they've become more peaceful.”

“They're not peaceful men,” Jacob said. “That's why I don't understand it.”

“It will be all right. Dinah, though, is the one who will never get over the shame of this. She can't bear to look anyone in the face. Have you noticed?”

“Yes. It tears me to pieces, Rachel.” He reached over and took her hand. “You must stay very close to her. Leah's not enough. She needs a tender heart like yours.”

“You know that I love her and will do all that I can, but I'm not sure it will be enough.”

As it happened, Jacob was with Dinah when the news came. He was sitting beside her, speaking of unimportant things. She was silent, answering only when asked a direct question. Jacob heard feet running and commented with surprise, “Somebody's in a hurry.”

Reuben suddenly burst into the tent. His eyes were wide and his face twisted with shock.

“What is it? What's wrong, Reuben?” Jacob cried, coming to his feet.

“It's…it's Simeon and Levi. They've murdered the king and the prince!”

For one instant Jacob could not take in what Reuben was saying. He stared at his tall, broad-shouldered son and could not even speak.

Reuben burst forth then—he who usually spoke so slowly. The words flowed from his lips. “They hired some of the hill people—killers—and this is the third day after the circumcision, and the king and his men were still recovering. Levi and Simeon invaded the palace and killed every man they could find. They were too sore to defend themselves. The king is dead and so is the prince.”

“How do you know all this? It can't be true,” Jacob cried. But somehow he knew in his heart that it was.

“They're on their way back. Simeon came ahead. He's outside now.”

Jacob could not move, and when he looked at Dinah, she was staring at Reuben with an expression such as Jacob had never seen on her. He could not tell what it meant.

Then Simeon came in. He looked victorious, and he came at once to Dinah and stood before her. “Do not worry, my sister. Your shame is avenged.”

Jacob found his voice. “What have you done?” he cried. “You have ruined me, you and Levi! We are so few among these people. We'll all be killed.”

But Simeon merely stared at Jacob. His voice was harsh as he shouted, “Should he treat our sister like a harlot? I have taken much plunder. Our sister's shame is now avenged.”

But Jacob turned to face Dinah, and he saw no joy there. The shame was still in her eyes, and she did not speak.

“Leave us,” Jacob said, and as soon as Reuben and Simeon were outside, he went to Dinah and put his arms around her. He could not speak for a time. He did not know what she was thinking, and finally he said, “That was an evil thing your brothers did.”

“Yes, it will not bring back my innocence.”

“No man will blame you for it.”

Dinah's voice, usually so light and lilting, was dead. “Yes, they will. No man will have me. I will never marry.”

Jacob stared at her but knew that talk was useless.

“I will never marry,” she said again, then turned from him.

Jacob stared at her helplessly. Without another word, he left the tent and saw Levi coming in to join Simeon. Fierce anger stirred within him, rising over his grief. “Levi and Simeon, you will never rule over my other sons! Reuben is the firstborn, but you two—never!” He stood helplessly, not knowing what to do next. His plans for an easy, peaceful old age seemed to be slipping away from him. He began to cry out in his spirit,
O Most High God, show me your tender mercies. Be with my daughter, who needs you so desperately. You have given me the name of Israel. Let me now be a prince indeed
.

His prayer seemed feeble and the future looked grim. Jacob, the son of Isaac, the grandson of Abraham, turned away, and tears coursed down his cheeks as futility washed over him.

The wind in the branches above Demetrius's head made a soft sound like the tearing of cloth. Lifting his eyes, Demetrius watched the colors of the land run and change along the horizon, touching the low-lying peaks to the east. As the sun dipped westward, it touched the ragged rim on the foothills, and the livid red ball seemed to break, spilling out against the humpback mountains. The light began to break up, creating a fan-shaped aurora against the blue, and then it began to fade. Soon the blueness of twilight trickled down from the heavens, and after that the heat of the earth would pass away and the stillness of nightfall would come.

Demetrius dropped his head and started to doze, his chin resting on his chest, but a sharp pull at the line tied around his index finger brought him back. He sat up straight, coming alive as he always did when he caught a fish. The line straightened out and then ran madly as the fish tried to escape. Demetrius hauled it in and, as he pulled it out, laughed softly. “You'll make a fine supper tonight.” He carefully removed the fish from the bronze hook, pulled up a sack anchored at his feet, and dropped the fish in, then let the sack settle back in the water. He had discovered when just a boy that keeping fish in this manner kept them fresh much longer.

Glancing over, he smiled at Joseph, who was lying flat on his back in the shade of a tree. His mouth was open, and he snored slightly. “You're going to catch flies that way, but no fish,” Demetrius murmured, then rebaited his hook and cast it out again.

Catching the fish had driven away his drowsiness, and as he waited for another fish, he thought of Joseph and how fond he had become of the young man. He'd had opportunity to study all eleven of the brothers and had reached the conclusion that Joseph was the best of them all—with the possible exception of Judah. These two were his favorites, and he was not surprised that Jacob seemed to have the same feelings.

He doubled up his legs, reached around and grasped them, then put his chin on his knees. The sun reached long fingers of light through the trees across the river and was now touching the earth with gentleness instead of a scorching power. The strong but pale light pooled between the trees, and he took pleasure in the sight. He had learned to love the desert—which he had never expected to do when he had first been forced into slavery. He knew that part of his love was the affection he had come to feel for Jacob. The old man had become very close to the heart of Demetrius. Jacob loved to talk about God, and Demetrius loved to listen. Now, for some time, he sat there amid the sounds of the late afternoon, thinking of all that his master had told him about his God.

Another thought brushed against his mind. He thought of the small hoard of money he had managed to save. It had come from different sources. He had managed to save bits of silver from some of the metal working he had done, which he had sold to passing traders. He had done extra work more than once, for which Jacob had rewarded him, and he had carefully kept the money. It was well hidden, buried in the tent he shared with some of the other men, underneath the pad he slept on.

I could have gotten away before this. What am I doing here? Why haven't I made a run for home?

For a time he struggled with this question. It was not that he did not love his home, for he had a poignant longing to see it and be among his own people again. But something had kept him here. One thing was clear. He was fascinated by the God of the Hebrews. He knew well that he could never go back to worshiping the gods of his ancestors. They seemed foolish to him now, and his will had become fixed on finding the God of the Hebrews for himself. Perhaps on even hearing Him speak to him personally, as Jacob and his ancestors had heard Him!

But as Demetrius sat there mulling over these things, another thought came that he kept trying to push away from his mind. But it would not leave. He knew that Dinah had something to do with his remaining in Canaan. She had never recovered from the attack of Shechem. The young woman he had known before was gone, replaced by a woman marred with sadness. She kept to her tent almost entirely now, and he missed her lively eyes, her songs, even the way she had of trying to boss him around.

I've come to care for her…. But I'd care for any woman who got hurt
.

A tug on the line pulled his thoughts away, and he drew the line in quickly. It was a small fish, not worth keeping, and he unhooked it. He almost tossed it back, but then humor danced in his eyes. Getting up, he tiptoed to where Joseph lay with his arms flung out, his mouth open as he snored. Carefully Demetrius pulled the neckline of Joseph's robe open and tossed the fish in, then jumped back and watched as Joseph reacted.

A long muffled cry rent the air, and Joseph jumped up, beating at his chest. He danced around wildly, slapping at his clothes, and Demetrius laughed as the fish fell out.

Joseph stared at the fish that flopped along the ground, then whirled to glare at Demetrius. “That wasn't funny!”

Demetrius shook his head in mock amazement. “I didn't know you could move so fast, Joseph.”

“I ought to shove this in your ear,” Joseph said. But he picked up the fish and threw it back into the water instead. Then he began to laugh but warned Demetrius, “Wait until I catch
you
asleep! I'll drop a worm down your throat while you're snoring.”