Mary Magdalene

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  Nathan gently put Mary down and they followed Eliab, who gently put Jared on his bed. Rachel sent Amos to bring Merab. Word had already gone through the neighborhood, and in a short time the healer hurried in the courtyard with her goatskin bag. Rachel led her in to examine Jared’s wound.

  Eliab stood silently with Mary and Nathan, waiting the healer’s word on Jared’s condition. Beriah, Levi, and Amos waited in the courtyard.

  Merab looked up at Rachel. “It is clean. I don’t believe any serious organs were touched. I will make a poultice to stop the flow of blood.”

  Eliab would not move from the room, his dark eyes never left Jared’s face.

  Nathan went out to tell the men what the healer had said.

  Mary listened to her father moaning and watched Merab give him a potion to make him sleep.

  Rachel tenderly touched Mary’s face. “You are both safe. For that I give praise to the Most High God, blessed be his name.”

  Mary hung back in the house, aware of her appearance, as her mother went outside and put a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Thank you, Nathan. I shall be forever grateful to you.” She turned to Amos and Levi. “Thank you all, for the return of my family.”

  Beriah nodded. “It is good they are safe, dear lady.”

  Nathan stepped back, his face suddenly crimson. He caught sight of Mary, and with a tear-streaked face, she thanked him with her eyes. He smiled back at her and then, with his father and the other men, left the courtyard.

  Once in her own room, all Mary wanted to do was cry. The stress of her last hours had built up a torrent inside. Her mother knelt to embrace her and murmured over and over, “You are safe now. You are safe now.”

  Rachel and Huldah helped Mary out of her dirty garment. The two women washed her and slipped a clean shift over her head. Rachel gently combed Mary’s matted hair.

  “I’m glad she will be all right.” Huldah smiled down at Mary and put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. Mary’s mother covered the hand with her own.

  “Thank you,” Mary whispered, as Huldah nodded and slipped out of the room, leaving Rachel alone with her only child.

  Mary shivered. “Abba found me, Mama. I knew he would. I prayed very hard. They hurt him.” She began to weep again. “Is he dead? Is Abba dead?”

  Her mother stroked her hair. “No, child, he is not dead. He will recover.” Her mother’s face became serious. “They did not hurt you, Mary—in any way?”

  She understood what her mother was asking and shook her head. “No, but I was afraid. One of the men kept saying terrible things.” She shivered, remembering. “He kept talking about selling me to a brothel—” The man’s words flooded into her mind and terror overwhelmed her. “Hold me, Mama! Hold me!”

  Rachel let out a cry of outrage. “My poor child.” She wrapped her arms around Mary. “Did you hear anything that would tell us why they took you?”

  “Only that they were waiting to be paid gold.” Mary whimpered. “Mama, they took me so my father would come. I think they were supposed to hurt him.”

  “They did indeed hurt him. He was wounded, but he will live. We will find out who did this. Rest, child, you are safe now.”

  Mary shrank against her mother and looked toward the window. “But what if they come back?”

  “The men who took you are gone. They will not bother you again.”

  Shivering, Mary bit her lip. “Will you stay with me, Mama? Please don’t leave me alone.” She began to whimper again and large tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Rachel brought a low stool to the side of the bed and sat down, and stroking Mary’s forehead gently, she assured her, “I will stay. Go to sleep.”

  And Mary slept, fitfully, hearing the man’s cruel words as her mind played the terrible scenario of her kidnapping again.

  8

  Sometimes Mary thought back about the kidnapping. Her father did not wish to discuss it. When she asked questions, he told her it was best left in the past. Yet her mind would not shut them out. She could still see the face of the man in that dingy room and breathe the lingering odor that had come from his unwashed body as he stood before her and talked of selling her to a brothel. Her horror as her father was stabbed and left for dead. And why was she kidnapped?

  Pondering these questions, Mary went to Eliab one quiet Sabbath afternoon. He sat by his shelter, staring off into space. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed how the lines in his ebony face had deepened, and his hair was more gray than black. Eliab was getting older. Years before, he’d told her stories of the past, how he was taken from his home as a young man in Africa, forced to fight in the Hippodrome, sustaining many wounds. She never tired of hearing how her father had found him and brought him home, nursing him back to health.

  Now, as she saw the wistful look on his face, it made their valiant protector appear vulnerable. She made a noise so as not to startle him, and he looked up at her, a slow smile crossing his dark, weathered face.

  “Eliab, you’ve told me many stories, but not about the kidnapping. How did my father find me?”

  He sighed. “The slave who used to belong to your uncle led us to the house.”

  She sat down quickly next to him on the bench. “What can you tell me that you saw?”

  “There is little to tell, mistress. We followed your uncle’s slave to a dark part of the city. It was a very bad place. I wished to go into the house with your father, but he insisted I remain with the others. I should have disobeyed.”

  “You could not know what would happen, Eliab.”

  “No, but I would have taken the knife for him.”

  “You saved his life.”

  “Perhaps. I owe him my own life and was glad to be able to repay the debt.” He lifted his face and his eyes had a faraway look in them.

  “What are you thinking about, Eliab?”

  He smiled wistfully. “My thoughts are of my own country. I have not seen my family in many years. I do not know if any of them are alive after the raid of the slave traders, but I wish to know.”

  She frowned. “Would you leave us, Eliab?”

  He turned his head and gave her a sad smile. “It is not yet time.”

  “How will you know when it is time?”

  He looked off in the distance again. “I will know.”

  She watched him begin work on a small carving and knew he would not answer any more questions. With a small sigh, she returned to the house.

  The next day, two strangers appeared at their gate. Mary looked up from preparing some vegetables as Eliab confronted them to find out what they wanted.

  “I am Asa, son of Abirim, and future son-in-law of your master, and this is my traveling companion, Jonah.”

  Eliab opened the gate and with a hand waved them toward a low bench as Mary hurried into the house.

  “Mama, I think the cousin from Hebron is here.”

  Rachel wiped her hands and nodded. “Go and prepare yourself. Put on your best tunic. I will send Eliab for your father.”

  Her mother offered the two young men some fruit and wine to refresh themselves as Mary hurried to do as she was told. When she was ready, she waited inside the doorway to be summoned.

  In a short time, Jared came puffing into the courtyard with Eliab right behind him. He welcomed Asa and his friend to their home. Mary peeked out at her future betrothed as the three men sat in the courtyard under the sycamore tree and talked. He was tall and thin and seldom smiled. He was all business, asking about the shipyard and listening intently as her father described it to him. Finally, almost as an afterthought, he asked about Mary. His friend sat silently beside him, glancing about with a disdainful look on his face.

  Her mother called her and Mary stepped forward to meet this man who was to be her husband. She kept her head down respectfully.

  Jared waved a hand toward her. “This is my daughter, Mary. She is the treasure of my heart.”

  Mary glanced up as the eyes of the two young men flicked over her appreciatively. �
�She is indeed lovely, cousin. I shall be an eager bridegroom and look forward to a wedding. When shall we arrange the betrothal?”

  Mary looked down at the ground. Something in his eyes disturbed her. What was it? The lines in his face were more around his mouth than his eyes.

  The house had been decorated and her mother gathered the ingredients to prepare her best dishes for the betrothal ceremony. She would serve fried sardines with capers, pomegranates and poached apricots in honey syrup, goat stew with squash and olives, and fresh bread. Mary’s father was jubilant and told her mother no expense was to be spared for the betrothal of their only daughter.

  Mary was told the ceremony would take place two days hence, to give Asa and his friend time to rest from their journey. This was enough time also to notify neighbors and friends of the joyous occasion.

  As the men reclined around the low table for the evening meal, Mary and her mother served them, then, at a nod from her mother, both women retired to the house, leaving the men to discuss the betrothal.

  Mary’s father was not one to delay an issue. He stroked his beard as he studied his prospective son-in-law and asked the question that was on his mind. “You are twenty-five, my son. How is it you have not married sooner?”

  Asa shrugged and a small sneer crossed his face. “I married, but she was not, uh, suitable. I divorced her and sent her back to her parents.”

  Jared was startled and the question “why” was on the tip of his tongue. With great restraint, he remained silent. There was more to this young man and he would find out what he needed to know in his own way. Asa spoke as though it was a trivial matter.

  If Mary were deemed unsuitable, would he send her back to them in disgrace? Would this young man understand what she needed? Anxiety caused his heart to beat faster. Could he picture Mary with this arrogant young man? Had he been too hasty to find her a husband?

  Mary came with more wine but kept her eyes lowered near Asa. Once as her father looked up, her anguished eyes met his. He looked away.

  Asa smiled. “Shall we make arrangements for the ceremony as agreed?”

  Jared was not a devious man, and he resolved to apprise Asa of Mary’s illness as carefully as he could. How would the young man respond?

  When the evening prayer had been spoken over the meal, Jared rose slowly from his place. “Asa, there is something I wish to discuss with you. Will you come with me to the garden?”

  “Ah yes, the dowry?” Asa quickly followed Jared to the garden.

  When Jared was sure they were out of range for Mary or Rachel to hear, he cleared his throat. “There is something you must know about my daughter—”

  “She is not a virgin?” Asa interrupted, frowning.

  With a touch of irritation, Jared shook his head. “She is a virgin and well-protected by her family.” He hesitated. “There was an incident a couple of years ago that affected Mary.”

  “What sort of an incident?” Asa folded his arms and his stance was wary.

  “She was kidnapped and held for ransom.”

  Asa’s eyes grew wide. “Kidnapped? Did they harm her in any way?”

  “No, they did not harm her, they only wanted gold. We were able to find and free her, but I was wounded and they got away with the gold. While Mary was unharmed in a physical way, it was a very . . . difficult thing for her to experience. She was only a child and terrified. She still, uh, has nightmares and is, shall we say, extremely fearful in the night seasons.”

  Asa shrugged. “It has been my experience that all young women are fearful in the night seasons.”

  For a moment Jared wondered how many women Asa was speaking of, but ignored the implication. “You speak of the moments between a husband and wife?”

  Asa gave him a knowing glance. “Perhaps.” He looked about the garden. “I have some business to attend to, uh, for my father. My friend and I will return later?”

  Jared started to speak but could not frame the words that came to mind. His apprehension was forming a knot in his stomach. It was a strange request to make of the bride’s parents, for Jared had assumed Asa would spend more time with the family to get to know each other before the betrothal ceremony. However, the young man must obey his father.

  He drew himself up and regarded Asa sternly. “The evening meal will be at sundown. We shall expect you then.”

  When the two young men had gone, Jared sat on a stone bench in the courtyard and contemplated the situation. What had he done? He only meant to protect Mary and make sure someone would take care of her. Now what was he to do? If he called off the betrothal, he would lose face with his cousin and perhaps never have a son-in-law or grandchildren. Should he have traveled to Hebron to meet with his cousin and examine the young man before rashly sending for him?

  He shook his head. The young man was here and there was no turning back.

  The evening meal was prepared and Mary and her parents waited for Asa and Jonah to return. When at last they came in the gate, Asa appeared wary. He greeted her parents but watched Mary’s every move with narrowed eyes. From time to time he and Jonah whispered to each other.

  As she served the bread, Mary glanced their way and felt her hands trembling. Her head began to ache. Not now, she prayed silently, beginning to panic, not now. She felt a tingling sensation and a sour taste in her mouth. To her intense embarrassment, her body began to twitch as the seizure intensified.

  Her mother recognized the symptoms. “Jared!” She grasped Mary’s arm as her father instantly responded. They quickly moved Mary into another room and lowered her onto some cushions. Mary had a brief glimpse of Asa, wide-eyed, observing her with a look of horror on his face.

  When Jared returned to the low table, Asa faced him, eyes flashing.

  “Then it is true? When I mentioned my bride-to-be’s name at the inn, they told us she is called Mad Mary. And you would have me take a sick woman to wife?” His shrill voice rose with every word. His friend Jonah sat back, his arms folded, a smug look on his face.

  Jared’s eyes also flashed in anger. “She is not mad. We do not know the cause of the seizures. No one knows. In between them she is perfectly normal.”

  “And children? What would happen to a child if she had one of these fits? You have not told me the whole of this. I do not wish to be saddled with a sick wife.”

  Jared rose, his voice surprisingly calm. “I see. And what is your decision then?”

  Asa stood also. “I do not wish to go through with the betrothal. She is a beautiful woman, but there are other women available who do not have your daughter’s . . . problem.”

  “Very well. I respect your decision. I thought a family member would understand. I won’t keep you, cousin. You will no doubt wish to return to Hebron as soon as possible.”

  Rachel approached them quietly. “Mary has recovered. She is sleeping.”

  Asa looked from one to the other. Jared knew if Asa and his friend insisted on remaining, the family was duty bound by the laws of hospitality to continue to honor his wishes.

  After a moment’s thought, the young man gathered his things. His discomfort was obvious as he bowed and gave them perfunctory words of gratitude for their hospitality.

  “There is an inn we passed on the way into the city,” he mumbled. “I’m sure we can find accommodations there. It is on the road back to Hebron.”

  “One moment.” Jared entered the house and returned quickly, pressing a small pouch of coins into the young man’s hand. “It is for your journey. It is the least I can do for the trouble we have put you to. I send my regrets to your father, and may HaShem give you a wife more worthy of your desires.”

  Asa took the pouch, a puzzled look on his face. It was, under the circumstances, a generous gesture. With a shrug, he nodded his thanks and tucked the pouch in his belt.

  When the gate had closed behind the disgruntled suitor and his friend, Jared turned to his wife with a sigh of relief. “He has gone, and may HaShem forgive me, but I am glad.”

&n
bsp; Tears pooled in Rachel’s eyes. “It is just as well, my husband, for I was not pleased with him either.” She sighed. “Now what will we do?”

  Jared drew her to him, shaking his head. “That, dear wife, we must leave with the Holy One, blessed be his name.”

  9

  To Mary’s sorrow and embarrassment, it didn’t take long for word to filter through the neighborhood that the betrothal would not take place. Neighbors came to sympathize with Jared and Rachel.

  “The young man was not suitable.”

  “You will find a more worthy young man, Jared.”

  “How could you know—good riddance I say.”

  “You are well rid of him. The Holy One, blessed be his name, will bring another suitor.”

  Yet as they spoke words deemed to be a comfort, Mary knew they would return home shaking their heads. No one wanted to marry a young woman afflicted with nightmares and strange seizures.

  On the other hand, Mary was elated. She would not have to marry that pompous young man who undressed her with his eyes. The thought of being married to him had terrified her, and with the respite came another time of reprieve from her physical symptoms.

  When his relief at Asa’s refusal and departure abated, Jared was filled with remorse.

  “Is our only child to remain a virgin the rest of her life?” he cried to Rachel. “Are there to be no grandchildren for our old age?”

  With heavy heart Mary resigned herself to living the rest of her life as an unmarried woman—a disgrace to her parents. If her parents became infirm, would she be able to care for them, needing help herself?

  Jared took himself off to the boatyard to deal with his customers, but couldn’t help wonder what his friends were really thinking. They would never embarrass him by voicing opinions in his presence, and he didn’t want their pity. Day by day as he wrestled with his thoughts, Jared gradually became aware of a new serenity about Mary. She went about her chores with a peaceful spirit. What miracle was this? Had she been healed by HaShem at last? He shook his head in puzzlement.