The Sons of Isaac (30 page)

*  *  *

The festivities of the evening were held in the large courtyard and involved Laban’s whole family. His sons were there with their wives and children, along with some of the neighbors. As was the custom, the entertainment was provided by a village juggler, some dancers, and an old woman who sat in a corner with a large drum keeping time for the dancers and providing a background for several singers.

Before the evening was over, most of the women had stepped out into the circle of light and danced their village dance, and then the brothers had also done their traditional circle dance. Jacob, standing in the shadows, felt his heart quicken when it was Rachel’s turn. She stepped out into the circle of light, smiled, and then motioned to someone in the midst of a clump of women. “Leah,” she said, “we must do this one together.”

Jacob was immediately interested. This must be the sister Laban was willing to give for a lesser price. He saw that the girl hung back and Rachel had to reach out and pull her out into the lighted open space. The girl stood awkwardly, shielding her eyes from the light. She was obviously embarrassed by Rachel’s insistence.

“Leah,” the women urged, “don’t be shy. Dance with your sister.”

Rachel laughed and refused to let her sister go back to her place with the women. “Come,” she said, “give me your hand and we’ll show them how well Laban’s daughters can dance the shepherd’s dance.”

With a shrug of resignation, Leah let Rachel take her hand. The old woman beat out a lively, tantalizing rhythm while Rachel moved her feet slowly at first to catch the beat, and then whirled into the dance, pulling her sister along. Everyone began to clap and shout encouragement to Leah until she also began to enter into the spirit of the dance. It was obvious that she did not enjoy either the movement or the attention, but she went along almost as a shadow of her more animated sister.

Jacob felt sorry for Leah. She undoubtedly shone in other areas. He imagined she was a better cook and would be talented at weaving and basket making, but she had not the fire and spark of Rachel. Leah would make a good and competent wife and mother, but it was Rachel he loved.

*  *  *

There was no getting around the bargain he had made. Laban extracted the seven years from Jacob down to the very day. During that whole time, he had made certain that Jacob could only see or speak to Rachel when there were large family gatherings. He also managed to have the two sisters always together so Jacob almost never had a chance to speak to Rachel alone.

Jacob was quite resourceful and took advantage of every opportunity to leave flowers where Rachel would find them or give her a carefully constructed cage of reeds to house a small songbird. He anticipated her needs and was rewarded by her look of surprise and delight. At times she even noticed him and smiled. With such small morsels of joy, he was able to endure the seven years and actually felt it had been a small price to pay for such a prize.

At the same time it was Leah who grew to love Jacob with a hopeless devotion. She was always seeing that he had the choicest bits of meat, the freshest fruit, or the best of Laban’s wine. All of this went without any special notice from Jacob.

As the seven years came to a close and the time approached for Jacob to claim his bride, Leah grew so distressed she became ill. When Laban checked to see what was wrong, she told him that she no longer wanted to live. “I am the oldest and should be the one getting married. I am the one who loves Jacob the best. How can I endure seeing my sister married to the only man I will ever love?”

This bothered Laban. It was indeed true that it was an age-old custom that the oldest daughter should be married first. “But,” he countered, “it’s Rachel that he loves. It’s Rachel he’s been working for all this time. How can I tell him, he cannot have Rachel?”

“Father,” Leah begged, “it’s just that he hasn’t noticed me. If I were married to him I could make him love me.”

Laban began to mull about the possibilities. Maybe everyone could get what they wanted. More than anything he wanted to keep Jacob from leaving with Rachel. He knew that this was exactly what Jacob had in mind.
What if I marry Leah to him and then promise him Rachel within the week if he’ll agree to work seven more years?

To do this he would have to manage many things secretly. He could tell Leah only part of his plan, but he must keep it all from Jacob and Rachel. He would definitely need the help of the old idols in the space under the stairs. The old goat-man could be depended upon to help further any scheme that involved secrets and careful manipulation.

*  *  *

When the day of his wedding feast actually came, Jacob could hardly endure the slow, dragging necessities. He went as in a trance with the sons of Laban to the bath and endured their crude jokes and lively banter. He sat at the feast without noticing the food or that it was Laban who sat beside him instead of his veiled bride. “You are one of us,” Laban said, “my own sister’s son. We do not need such formalities.”

Laban was so jovial and complimentary that Jacob relaxed. He knew that the best wine had been brought out for the occasion, and he didn’t question his uncle’s motive when he filled his goblet again and again. He also didn’t notice that Laban was nervous and kept having whispered conversations with several servants.

At last when the moon had disappeared and the torches gave off only a dim glow, Laban himself escorted Jacob to the marriage chamber. “These old women have seen that the chamber is ready,” Laban said. “You’ll find my daughter already inside waiting for you.” Laban opened the door and nudged Jacob into the dark room, then closed the door.

Laban stood listening for a few moments, and when he heard no unusual outcry, he went out into the courtyard and up to the roof. He sat alone in his usual seat under the grape arbor. He could not help remembering his own marriage to the daughter of Nazzim so long ago. He had not seen her, but he knew very well what he was getting. It was Nazzim’s influence and money he cared about, so it didn’t matter what she looked like in the morning when the veil was removed. The bargain had been a good one. She had given him one son and eventually Nazzim’s wealth.

In the bright light of day, Jacob would also know the truth, if not before then. Laban had to admit that Jacob was being badly tricked. Laban shuddered to think of facing him in the morning. He would, of course, have the goat-man to blame. He would insist it was the old goat-man idol that gave him the idea. “You have to marry the eldest first,” he would insist the idol had advised. “Then if he still wants the other sister, you can give her to him after a week, but only after making sure that he agrees to work another seven years.”

The cunning of the goat-man was unequaled. Laban knew these thoughts came from him because they were so brilliant. “I have never been that clever,” he muttered to himself.

He sighed as he rose and headed for the stairs. In the morning he would not only have to face Jacob but also Rachel. Since his first wife was now living in her own rooms apart from the rest of the family, he had taken Rachel to her for safekeeping. With Barida’s consent he had locked them both in her rooms and wouldn’t let them out until morning.

Barida was now old and bitter since Laban had taken many other wives. She especially hated the mother of Rachel and was ready to do anything that would cause her or her daughters distress. Her eyes glinted with an evil, crafty look as Laban left Rachel with her to be dressed for her wedding night. She winked at him as she handed him the key, and he felt twinges of guilt that he should please her so at Rachel’s expense.

*  *  *

The next morning it was even worse than Laban had anticipated. To his surprise Jacob blamed Leah for deceiving him and hurting her sister. As Laban found out later, Jacob had discovered the trick with the first light of day. Instantly he had yanked Leah’s arms from around his neck and flung her from him in disgust. “How could you do this!” he demanded.

Leah pulled the covering from the bed and fled, wrapping it around her in big clumsy bunches. She was so distraught that she ran to Laban’s room and wept bitterly. “I don’t understand,” she cried. “He did love me, and passionately, until he saw that it was me and not Rachel.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll have to understand,” he said. “The eldest must marry before the younger; everyone knows that.”

“But I thought Jacob had agreed that it should be that way,” she cried.

“No, no,” he said, “we didn’t need to tell him something everyone knows.”

“You tricked him into marrying me,” she charged bitterly.

“You wanted to marry him, and there was no other way. Now you’ve had your wish and you must work out the difficulties.”

The look she gave him was hard, cold, and sorrowful all at once.

“You must understand,” Laban said, “this was not my idea at all. It was the old goat-man under the stairs that hatched this plot.” Without waiting she pulled away from him and ran to the door under the stairs. Flinging the door open, she stared at the ugly little idol. “So,” she said, “it’s you who’ve worked this out. Now you must make him love me.” Somehow she felt this would not be so easy.

*  *  *

Laban found Jacob pacing the floor of the small bridal chamber. Unbeknownst to Laban, Jacob’s wild anger and frustration were tempered only by the guilty thought that this was how Esau must have felt when he had tricked him out of the blessing.
So,
Jacob reasoned,
I deserve this, but how can I live without Rachel?

“Now I see that you think I have played a cruel trick on you,” Laban said. “Actually I should have told you from the start that we must always marry the eldest daughter before the younger. There was nothing else I could do.”

He waited for Jacob to give some angry response, but when he simply sat and stared at the wall and said nothing, Laban went on. “I’m not as cruel as you might think,” he continued, studying Jacob’s strange lack of response. “You can have Rachel at the end of the week if you’ll promise to work seven more years for her.”

Jacob wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all. He wanted to shout at his crafty uncle, telling him that he had already worked seven years for Rachel. He wanted to say that he would never, never have worked one day to marry Leah. However, he was so overwhelmed with the feeling that he was somehow being paid back for cheating his brother that he said nothing.

Laban took his silence as acceptance and promptly went and told Rachel all that had happened. Rachel had been crying and suspected that Leah had somehow planned all of this. “No, no,” Laban told her, “don’t blame your sister. Blame the old goat-man idol. He’s the one that put the idea in my head. Actually, you will find it is for the best. I’ve arranged for Jacob to have you at the end of this week, but he’ll have to stay and work seven more years.”

Rebekah said sulkily, “You always blame the old goat-man for any crafty thing you want to do. I know that Leah has wanted Jacob. She thinks he’ll love her but he won’t. He loves me and she’ll live to regret this trick she’s been a part of.”

For the first time Laban began to worry about what he had done. He loved his daughters. What if, he wondered, by trying to manage things, he had actually made it very difficult for them to ever find happiness?

At the end of the week of feasting, Laban kept his word and gave Rachel to Jacob. When it came time for Jacob to claim his bride, he found himself in the same bridal chamber, only this time everything was different. A small oil lamp cast shadows on the whitewashed walls. As was the custom, Rachel sat on the colorful, straw-filled mat among many cushions. He could hardly recognize her. The gleam of a golden headpiece nested squarely in her dark curls, and a dancing waterfall of gold cascaded from each ear. Around her neck was a spiral of gold latticework interspersed with carnelian beads.

She sat with her eyes cast down and her hands, lying on her knees, were upturned. Jacob realized at once that while Leah had been forced by the circumstance to come to him very much as one of the local harlots, Rachel came as a true bride. It was unnerving. Somewhere in all the bridal array was his little shepherdess, and it was his duty to coax her out of hiding.

Here was the crux of the mystery that women spent endless time whispering about and men grew silent remembering. It had obviously been designed from ancient times as a challenge to the groom’s ingenuity. He must win her or she had every right to reject him and flee back to the safety of her family. The wise, confident bride did not give in too easily. Their whole future relationship depended on this moment’s going well. The bride must feel totally accepted and adored, while the groom must take pride in having won, with difficulty, a worthy prize.

Jacob sat on the mat beside Rachel and took her hand in both of his. His heart was bursting with the joy of finally getting to sit beside her and actually hold her hand. It was small and soft, and the perfume of her garments was subtle and hypnotic. There was the hint of spring flowers and he realized her wedding dress had undoubtedly been packed in sprigs of lavender.

He struggled to find words that suited the occasion and expressed his feelings. He had worked so hard and waited so long for this moment; he must not spoil it in any way.

He glanced at her and found to his surprise that she was looking at him. He was relieved to see that her face and lips hadn’t been painted in the customary masklike rigidity. Her eyes were rimmed with dark kohl and her lips were touched with crimson, but it was still the dear, familiar face he’d grown to love. She smiled at him, then giggled, and finally fell back among the cushions laughing. Her cap of silver fell off and her bracelets jangled as she tried to fit it back in place. “I have frightened you,” she said as she dabbed at her eyes lest the black kohl streak down her face.

“Of course you frightened me,” Jacob said, laughing.

“I love the fuss and bother of being a bride,” she said, holding out her arms and admiring the jingle of her bracelets and the sparkle of her rings. “Don’t you find me much more interesting this way?”