The Handmaid and the Carpenter (9 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nazareth

Joseph

HEN MARY AND JOSEPH HAD ARRIVED BACK
in Nazareth and were nearing their own house, a group of children came running toward them. “They want to see the baby,” Mary said, smiling, and she began loosening the clothes around the baby’s face. But the children did not want to see the baby; rather they wanted to tell Mary and Joseph that there were strangers waiting for them. Men from the city called Saba in Persia, wearing fine robes! And hats! And rings! They had followed a star, they’d said, that had stopped here, directly over the house of Mary and Joseph. They had brought gifts for the baby. Could they see? the children asked. Could they see what the men had brought?

Joseph kindly waved the children away, saying that they should come back tomorrow. Then he drew himself up and walked toward the house, pulling hard on the donkey’s lead to make him move more quickly. He strained to see in the gathering darkness who was at their door.

THERE WERE THREE
camels kneeling in the dirt outside Mary and Joseph’s house. They wore bridles decorated with silver and gold, with tassels and bells; and the camels’ saddles, resting on top of ornate rugs, were heavily loaded. Beside the camels sat three men, dressed in fine, heavy robes of purple and blue. One man was young and beardless, stout and ruddy-complected; one was an ancient white-haired man with a long beard that flowed halfway down his chest; the third was black-skinned and so tall he would need to bend, should he come into the house. They wore caps, as the children had said, and Joseph saw on their hands the many rings, as the children had also described—gold, with large stones of red, green, white, and blue. Also, the men wore multiple gold bracelets that jingled musically as they stood to greet the couple and their baby.

Joseph took the last few steps toward them warily. He helped Mary off the donkey and bid her go inside. She hesitated, but did as he had asked. He closed the door tightly behind her, then turned to face the men and asked, “Why are you come here?” His voice betrayed his nervousness, and he drew in a deep breath, that he might calm himself.

The old man spoke first. “I am Melchior,” he said. His voice was dry, parched-sounding. He pointed to the black man. “And this is Balthasar.”

The black man put his hands together under his chin and bowed. In one of his earlobes, a ruby sparkled. He spoke in a low voice and with an accent Joseph could not identify. “I bring you greetings and salutations.”

Joseph said nothing. The old man pointed to the younger man. “This one is Gaspar.”

“We have traveled long to see you!” Gaspar said. “We are come to see the child born unto your wife, for he is the King of the Jews!”

“Who has told you this?” Joseph asked irritably. Again these strange assertions!

Melchior raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “We are acquainted with exiled Jewish priests who live among us, and we know well of the prophecy: the birth of the Christ child. We have followed the star.”

Gaspar spoke again. “It is the messianic star!” He pointed to the sky. “Look, you can see it hovering there. On the night of your child’s birth, Jupiter, which represents kingship of the world, and Saturn, which is associated with Palestine, came close together in the constellation Pisces. This accounted for that most unusual brilliance. And when such an event occurs, it signals the birth of someone great.”

“We traveled first to Jerusalem,” said Melchior. “There we asked the people, ‘Where is he that is born King of the Jews?’ We told them that we had seen his star in the east and had followed it, that we might find the babe and worship him.”

Balthasar continued, “Hearing of this, Herod called for his chief priests and his scribes, asking where this child was to be born. They told him of this same prophecy, that from Bethlehem in Judea would come a ruler who would be shepherd to the people of Israel.”

Gaspar spoke more quietly now. “Herod called to meet with us secretly so that he might learn the time the star had appeared. When we told him, he bid us find the child and report back to him, that he might come to worship him as well. But we are come to tell you grave news!” He ceased talking when the black man turned to look reproachfully at him.

“You must be frightened by our appearance,” Balthasar told Joseph, “and more so by our eager companion’s revelations. But we are here only to pay our respects to the Christ child, and to offer gifts.”

“But how do you come to believe all this of the infant?” Joseph asked. “By what means do you arrive at this fantastic conclusion?”

Balthasar answered him. “As we have explained, it is the prophecy, which is well known to many. Moreover, we are skilled in dream interpretation and at divining both the past and the future. Gaspar is also an astronomer and a mathematician.”

“Herod means to kill your son,” Gaspar said, and this time he was not rebuked.

Joseph looked into their faces, one at a time. “Come inside,” he said.

THEY FOUND MARY
just inside the door, holding Jesus. When the wise men saw the baby, they fell to their knees. Bewildered, Mary looked to Joseph.

“They are wise men,” he told her.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

Inside the house, Joseph could smell the visitors; mixed in with the scent of camels and the dust of travel was an exotic fragrance, like a rare perfume. The men exuded a kind of power but also a great gentleness—even the loud one, Gaspar.

The men rose, and Balthasar pulled from his robe a velvet sack. He opened it and spilled out onto the earthen floor many pieces of gold. “That you may have enough for your journey, for you must escape from here.”

Mary stepped back, startled, but Joseph felt rooted to the spot.

Melchior showed them his offering of frankincense, and Gaspar his of myrrh.

“Myrrh!” Mary said, and Gaspar spoke quickly, saying that in addition to being used to anoint the dead, myrrh might also be used as a painkiller.

“We cannot accept these gifts,” Joseph said.

“We cannot,” Mary echoed.

“We bid you take them,” Balthasar said. “We have journeyed far to give them to you.” He looked at Jesus, lying still in his mother’s arms. “Blessings be upon him,” he said. He moved one step closer, then another. Mary stood still, but her arms tightened around Jesus.

Balthasar stopped and held up his hand. “I shall come no closer. I mean only to admire the gift you have brought forth into the world.”

Now Mary softened, and tilted the baby slightly toward him.

Joseph stood watching, wondering if this were a dream. He had heard of wise men from the east, but that they were here in Nazareth! Come to visit them!

Everything about these men was different: their dress, their speech, their movements and ways of speaking. They were like the very wealthy people Joseph sometimes saw in Sepphoris, who were
separate
by virtue of their station, by their very being. Yet these men were more exotic still. It was as though if he were to reach out and touch them, they still would not be touched. Looking at them, he could almost hear a strange kind of music, winding and enticing. They did not belong here in this humble village they had journeyed so far to find. Joseph tried to imagine how they traveled, where they stayed, to whom they spoke along the way. How many people now knew of the birth of Jesus? What could it mean?

Had Mary brought all of this on them, with her strange yearnings and desires, with her dreamy discontent? Why could she not be more like a normal girl, content to sit in the courtyard or go to the well with her mother and her friends, content to gossip and laugh and care for her family, to attend weddings and funerals and help with the harvests? Most important, why could she not have been pregnant at the proper time by the proper person? Ever since she had come back to Nazareth as an unwed mother, his world had been turned upside down. Would these odd and difficult occurrences never end? Would he and Mary never enjoy the life he had wanted for them, a life that would properly emulate that of their parents?

The three wise men had gathered now around Mary and Jesus, and they gazed with adoration at the baby. It was enough! He would no longer cooperate with the strange things being thrust upon him. This was his house, and he was the master of his own house! “I fear your presence here may attract unwanted attention,” he said. “I must ask that you leave now.”

They all turned to him, the men and Mary. Then Balthasar said quietly, “Yet you were already in danger, without us. I tell you once more, we are come only to pay our respects.” He stepped back from Mary and nodded to the other two men. “But we shall go. For we ourselves must also flee Herod.”

Gaspar said, “We were warned in a dream not to go back to Jerusalem but to return home by a different route.”

Joseph put the gold back in the sack and held it and the other two sacks out to the men. “I shall ask you again to take back your gifts.”

None of them moved to take the sacks. Finally, Melchior said, “Peace be with you,” and they bowed and departed.

Mary and Joseph stood at the door and watched them mount their camels. On a command from one of the men, the camels rose, and then the men headed off into the night, their heads bobbing from side to side in their slow ride. Joseph could hear the bells on the camels fade away until they could be heard no more. He closed the door, dropped the sacks onto the floor, and turned to Mary. “We shall not go.”

She began to weep, and Joseph did not know if it was from fear or joy.

“We shall stay here in our home,” he said, hesitantly now.

“Oh, Joseph,” she said. “I am so relieved to hear you speak those words! It is well known that the wise men have supernatural vision and that their words must not be taken lightly. Yet even more than their warnings, I fear leaving here again.”

“Come,” Joseph said. He helped Mary to lie down on her pallet, Jesus in her arms.

“Too many strange things have happened!” Mary said. “I want only to raise my child in peace!”

Joseph closed his eyes in gladness to hear her say such things. “And you will,” he said. “Rest now, we are home.”

He sat beside her, stroking her hair and waiting for her to fall asleep. Then he crept quietly from the house to go to the well for water to fill the cistern, that they might have what they needed in the morning.

When he returned from his walk through the silent village, he lay beside Mary, who slept deeply. He thought of all that had come to pass since they journeyed to Bethlehem. He looked about his house, gratified to be inside its familiar walls. In a few days he would be back at work erecting fine buildings and then coming home to his family. He closed his eyes and slept.

IN THE MIDDLE
of the night, Joseph awakened in a panic. He shook his wife’s shoulder. “Mary! Awake and arise! We must go to Egypt!”

“Joseph?” she said sleepily.

He stood and pulled at her arm. “Arise, quickly! We must leave now!”

She sat up, confused, the child asleep in her arms. She spoke in a whisper. “Joseph! Awaken yourself; I fear you are dreaming! Joseph! Are you awake?”

He knelt down beside her. “Mary, I have had a most vivid dream of warning!” He did not want to tell her what he had seen in his dream: babies being slaughtered by the hundreds. “I have been instructed to go to Egypt.”

“Egypt!”

“Yes, and we must leave immediately.” He rose and began gathering items for their journey. Things only just unpacked were now tossed again into sacks. He packed bread, cheese, olives, nuts, and oranges. He filled one goatskin with water, then another. “Make haste!” he told Mary, who sat unmoving on her pallet.

“I shall not go with you,” she said.

He stiffened. “Do not argue with me.”

She began to weep. “We must cross the Sinai to get to Egypt! You yourself have told me no one crosses the Sinai without an army or at least a caravan. And it is night, besides!”

He tried to make himself sound calm and reasonable. “I cannot say strongly enough the urgency with which we must attend to this. The child’s life is in danger. We must go. Now.”