Mary Magdalene

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  “Keturah, bring Mary.”

  Keturah grabbed Mishma’s hand as Rachel put a heavy shawl over Mary. Keturah took Mary’s arm and the women hurried her through the streets behind Eliab. They had no sooner entered the courtyard when Zerah burst in behind them, followed by Beriah, Nathan, and Amos, who were carrying Jared. The front of his tunic was covered with blood and he was unconscious.

  Mary was quickly settled in the shade with Keturah and Mishma.

  “I will prepare his bed,” cried Rachel as she hurried into the house.

  Mary stirred. Something was wrong. The realization that it was her father penetrated the haze of her mind. “What is wrong with my father, Keturah?”

  “I don’t know, Mary. I think he is ill.”

  “Please, I want to see him.”

  Keturah hesitated, but admonished Mishma to wait there for her.

  Eliab stepped forward. “I will watch the child.” He looked toward the house, his face drawn, and then he squatted down by the little boy as they examined a trail of ants, crossing in the dirt.

  Keturah helped Mary up and, with a hand on her elbow, led her into the house.

  Mary fell on her knees by her father’s bed. “Abba! Abba!” It was the cry of a lost child, and Mary realized it was her own voice.

  Rachel looked down at her husband and struggled to hold back tears. “So it has returned, and with a vengeance. I was afraid it was only a matter of time before the blood came again.” She turned to Keturah. “Get a basin of water and cloths.”

  Nathan put a hand on Mary’s shoulder briefly, in comfort, and then turned toward the door. “I will call Merab.”

  Mary’s mind clouded over again and she sat watching the drama in front of her with almost a detached air.

  Zerah stood nearby and took a step forward, looking down at his brother. “He collapsed in the boatyard, spitting up blood.”

  Keturah returned with the basin. Rachel dipped a cloth in the water and wrung it out, then gently washed the blood from her husband’s face and beard.

  Mary looked up at her father-in-law and recognized sadness. Why was he sad? She mentally shook her head and for a moment the shadows abated. Beriah’s gaze went from Jared to Mary. He slowly shook his head and then motioned to Amos to follow him outside.

  Pray. Mary remained on her knees and the words formed in her mind. She needed the strength of HaShem to be of help to her mother. She prayed with all her strength as her father’s face went in and out of focus.

  Rachel looked up at Mary’s uncle. “He has been more weary lately, Zerah.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to think he was ill again, just tired. He kept telling me he was well.”

  Zerah’s gaze rested on Nathan, who had returned with Merab. “We have work to do. Rachel will let us know if we are needed. Jared must rest.” His tone of voice was that of one talking to someone inferior, and Mary looked at her husband, waiting for his response.

  He ignored Zerah and turned to Mary’s mother. “Mother Rachel, is there anything further we can do for you?”

  She shook her head. “I will watch over him. If there is a change, we will let you know. Thank you, Nathan.”

  Nathan touched Mary on her arm and she looked up. “Stay here with your mother. She needs you right now.” He walked past Zerah, ignoring the man’s dark countenance.

  Mary watched her uncle storm out of the house, muttering curses.

  Her prayers were heard as HaShem granted Mary a miraculous reprieve from her drugged state. Her father lived for three days, with Mary, Rachel, and Merab taking turns watching over him and ministering to his needs. Nathan and Zerah came and went as often as they could, and when Rachel realized the end was near, she sent Eliab to bring them right away. The other men from the boatyard came also, and Mary heard the murmur of their voices as they waited in the courtyard.

  Zerah’s haughty attitude for once was not in evidence. He stood near his brother and Mary saw tears gathering in his eyes.

  Jared looked up at him and spoke haltingly. “I pray you will find peace, my brother. Let the Most High, blessed be his name, heal the wounds you bear. I trust my family into your care.”

  Zerah nodded, and it was a moment before he could speak. “You have dealt well with me, brother. I will care for your family.”

  A slight smile appeared on Jared’s face. “And Nathan . . . ?”

  A heavy sigh. “I will deal fairly with him. You have my word.”

  Mary held her father’s hand as he turned his head toward her. “My little flower, I go to my fathers and to our Most High God, blessed be his name. I can go in peace, for you and your mother are in good hands.”

  “Abba, I cannot bear it. Don’t leave us.” Large tears spilled from her eyes and ran unchecked down her cheeks.

  Jared then spoke to her mother. “Rachel, my heart, you have been a good wife to me, and beloved. Be strong now, for Mary’s sake and your own.”

  Mary’s mother wept quietly, bowing her head.

  Mary gazed down at her father’s face. He closed his eyes and a soft rattle sounded in his chest. Then there was silence. When they realized he was gone, the anguished cries from Mary, her mother, and the other women echoed from the house as they poured out their grief. The sound rose over the wall and carried to the surrounding neighborhood, as everyone within hearing knew Jared, the boatbuilder, the beloved husband and father, was dead.

  16

  Mary struggled through the hazy, disjointed days in a stupor. At times it was as though she was outside of her body looking in. She studied her hands as though they didn’t belong to her. Who was she? What was she doing in this room? Was it day or night? It all seemed the same. When she felt herself rational for a short while, the realization of the death of her father sat like a stone on her chest and she cried out in grief. Why couldn’t she herself have been the one who died? She was useless to everyone, especially Nathan. The forces that drove her caused her to shrink back from him when he tried to touch her. The sadness in his eyes haunted her.

  This morning Nathan had railed at her. “No more! I don’t know what Merab gives you, but no more! I’d rather have you as you were before than this ghost of a woman who spends her days like this.”

  He’d stormed out and slammed the gate behind him. Merab had not come again to her, and now, as the effects of the potion were beginning to wear off, she felt her skin crawl. The walls seemed to move like shadows and the voices in her head taunted her, and she fell to her knees rocking back and forth. Would no one help her?

  Suddenly Eliab, Nathan, and her mother were beside her. Eliab held a clay bowl, and as Mary wretched, Nathan spoke in soothing tones.

  “I’m here, beloved. I am with you.”

  To her surprise the voices were silent. This time she did not push Nathan away. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her as one would a small child.

  Eliab’s deep voice whispered in her ear. “It will pass, mistress. It will pass. This is the beginning, but you will be well soon.”

  Then Eliab spoke somberly. “I have seen this before. Many at the Hippodrome resorted to this potion. It helped them to overcome their fears. Not every man who fought in the ring was a brave man. Like me, they were slaves, groomed to fight to please the screaming crowds.” There was a bitter note to his voice.

  “How long will it take?” Nathan asked.

  “It is hard to say, young master, but it will be hard on her.”

  Rachel sighed. “Her father only sought to help her. I begged him not to do it, but I did not prevail.”

  “I am her husband,” Nathan cried out. “She lives under my roof. He had no right. See how she suffers, even more than she did without it.”

  Rachel wiped Mary’s face with a cool cloth. “I’m so sorry, Nathan.”

  “I told Merab she is never to give it to her again, or she will be forbidden to enter our home.”

  Mary felt her body begin to shake with chills and Nathan wrapped his cloak around her.

  She heard the
pleading note in her mother’s voice. “Can we bring her outside where it is warm?”

  Nathan sighed. “She has escaped before, into the town.”

  Eliab stepped forward. “I will watch over her, young master.”

  Then her mother’s voice. “Oh Eliab, what would we do without you?”

  Nathan slowly stood up, prepared to carry his wife, but Eliab nodded to him and gathered Mary in his great arms, carrying her easily from the room.

  When they were in the courtyard, Keturah stood up from stirring the stew and watched her with wary eyes. Mishma also watched her from a distance. His young face held puzzlement and a new emotion, fear.

  “Will she run away again?”

  Eliab folded his strong arms. “I will watch her.”

  Rachel brought a small bunch of grapes and gave one to Mary. She tasted the sweetness and moved it around in her mouth. Rachel gave her another one and she ate that too. Then her sides began to cramp and she bent over, wrapping her arms around her body and moaning.

  Nathan knelt before her. “If I could take this from you, I would, beloved.”

  She looked up at him, his face blurred by her tears, “I want to die. I want to die. Please, let me die.”

  Eliab knelt down so his eyes were level with hers. “You will not die, mistress. You will feel like that, but you will not die. When it has passed through your body, you will be better.”

  Then she fainted. She didn’t remember being carried back to their room. She vaguely heard Nathan whisper his love and felt a rug being gently tucked around her. Her mind swirled down into a vortex of darkness and she heard a small child whimpering in fear. Was it Mishma? No, the voice was her own.

  Nathan sat on the cushion after the evening meal. Eliab stood outside Mary’s door and Rachel had taken him his dinner. Keturah quietly gathered the platters and began to wipe them with a cloth.

  Beriah sat shivah, the week of mourning, with the family upon the death of Jared. Since Jared had no son to mourn him and say Kaddish, the prayer for the dead, Nathan had taken the part of a son. Through all this, Beriah said little. During the ordeal with Mary, he’d remained silent. Now, throughout the evening meal he had been thoughtful, and Nathan looked up to find his father studying him from time to time. Beriah waited until Keturah had left them to settle Mishma for the night and Rachel had returned to her home with Eliab.

  Then, into the silence, he spoke his heart. “My son, the time has come for you to make a decision. I wish to marry again, and I cannot bring a wife into this situation. You have my heart and I feel deeply for all that your wife is going through, but I am getting older. I desire peace in my household. Mary needs the care of her mother, and Rachel is now alone. You must either send Mary away to the house of Jared, or go with her.”

  Nathan hung his head. “It has been difficult for you, I know. You have been patient with Mary, and I understand. You should not have to be without comfort because of my wife. Who is your chosen?”

  “A widow by the name of Beulah. She was married to a friend of mine in Capernaum for many years and is lonely, as I am. She has consented to marry me, but cannot bring herself to enter the situation as it stands in my home.”

  Nathan knew his father had traveled to Capernaum many times, but felt it was for the boatyard and had not thought to ask the reason for his trips. His father was right. He could not bring a wife into their home with Mary’s condition affecting their lives.

  “I will speak to Rachel this day, Father. If she is agreeable, we will return to Jared’s home.” He gave his father a searching look and then smiled. “You have kept your secret well.”

  The look of relief on his father’s face touched Nathan’s heart.

  Keturah gathered Mary’s clothes and few belongings and bundled them up. She led Mishma and Eliab carried Mary’s things. Nathan gathered Mary up in his arms, and when she whimpered and asked where they were going, Nathan just held her tightly and murmured, “We’re going home, Mary.”

  Nathan realized it was a wise decision when he saw how relieved Rachel was to have her daughter near to care for. It would help both of them deal with their grief.

  Keturah and Mishma moved with them and Nathan was pleased how quickly they all settled into a routine. Rachel did most of the cooking, with Keturah’s help, sometimes with Mary’s, when she was able. Without grandchildren of her own, Rachel gave her heart to Mishma, who returned the affection.

  By now Nathan had taken over Jared’s part of the business, with Zerah’s reluctant agreement. Nathan was now a full partner and refused to be manipulated. Zerah still came to the house to have dinner with them once in a while at Rachel’s insistence, and grudgingly admitted how well Nathan managed at the boatyard.

  A few weeks later, in a simple ceremony, Nathan’s father married Beulah, a woman with an ample waist and a gentle nature. He knew his new stepmother would be good for his father as soon as he met her.

  17

  Nathan stood in the boatyard, savoring the signs of spring in the air. The storms of winter had passed and his men were hard at work on three different boats. The smell of fresh-cut wood and resin filled the air. As he spoke to one of the men, he felt a stab of irritation that Zerah had left the yard early—again. He knew Mary’s uncle was headed for his favorite wineshop. Zerah had become even more moody lately and seemed to spend a great deal of time away, yet there appeared to be little Nathan could do about it.

  His attention was caught by three strangers who entered the yard, looking around at the boats. Nathan sensed they were related from their similarity of appearance. One younger man was a big, brash fellow, his dark hair barely contained by the headband he wore. The other, younger man was pleasant of face and seemed content to merely watch the proceedings.

  Nathan stepped forward with a smile. “Good morning, my friends, can I be of help to you?”

  The older man nodded. “I am called Zebedee, and these are my two sons, James and John. We are in need of a new fishing boat. One of ours was severely damaged in a recent storm. I was told to ask for a man named Jared. His reputation is well known.”

  Nathan spread his hands. “It is with regret that I must inform you that Jared, my father-in-law, died three years ago. I am Nathan and I would be happy to assist you in any way. Will you join me in the shade for some refreshments?”

  Zebedee stroked his beard that was nearly white with streaks of gray. “I see. Perhaps we can still do business.” His piercing eyes beneath heavy brows looked deep into Nathan’s.

  “My father-in-law’s brother, my partner, is out of town, but I also handle the sale of the boats.”

  Zebedee nodded but did not reply.

  James eyed the pitcher Daniel, Nathan’s young helper, had brought. “A poor man’s refreshment,” he muttered.

  Nathan smiled. “Perhaps a cup of wine?”

  Zebedee tilted his head. “If you could spare some wine, it would be gratefully received, but do not trouble yourself. We will have the milk.”

  Nathan kept his face placid, but went to get a bottle of wine from the storage room, then poured it generously into their cups. As they refreshed themselves, Nathan waited patiently, knowing they would discuss business in their own time.

  “Tell me, sir, what is the news from Capernaum?” Nathan settled himself and leaned forward to listen.

  “All is well, but for a strange man baptizing in the Jordan River. His name is John, a teacher of sorts, dressed in camel skins. It is thought he is possibly Essene, from the desert. He baptizes those who come to him in the river.”

  Nathan leaned forward. “Is he a prophet?”

  The son called John shrugged. “He says he is preparing the way for one to come.”

  “The Messiah?”

  Zebedee looked away toward the hills. “It is a strange thought. We have looked for the Messiah from generation to generation, yet here is a man who says that the One who sent him to baptize with water told him to look for the man on whom we see the Spirit descending. He wil
l be the One.”

  There was a huff from James. “Words in the wind. Who can believe a wild man who rants as he does?”

  John spoke up. “What if what he says is true, James? No one knows the time of the Messiah’s coming, why not now?”

  James gave him a scowl of dismissal.

  Nathan was intrigued. “I would see this strange man.”

  Zebedee glanced at his sons. “It is good that you scoff. I would not have my sons running off to follow some madman.” He turned back to Nathan. “If he is still there when you deliver the boat, you shall have your chance.”

  At last Zebedee inquired as to the price of one of the fishing boats nearing completion in the yard. The three men strolled over to watch the work in process. They walked around slowly and Zebedee’s eyes missed nothing of the careful construction. He nodded to his sons and Nathan was sure he’d made a sale.

  Nathan named the price and Zebedee appeared to be shocked. “We are but poor fishermen, such a price is more than we can consider.”

  And so as the bargaining process began, Nathan enjoyed the banter and the haggling, for thus it was so in his part of the world. A buyer would never consider purchasing an item at the merchant’s first price.

  When at last a price had been agreed on, Zebedee still maintained the air of a man who had been duped into paying more than the boat was worth, but the documents were drawn up by Beriah and signed by Zebedee. The nearly completed boats in the yard were already destined for new owners, so Nathan agreed to deliver Zebedee’s boat in two months’ time to the harbor at Capernaum. Zebedee handed Nathan a bag of coins containing half the purchase price of the boat, the other half to be paid when their boat was delivered.

  Zebedee looked at him shrewdly. “You drive a good bargain. We will look for you in sixty days.”

  When they had gone, Nathan allowed himself a pleased smile. In Zerah’s place he had sold a boat and collected half the price. It would ensure more work for their crew. He turned to his father. “Do you think you have a good place to put this?” He handed him the bag of coins.