Laban was shocked. Jacob hardly ever spoke back to him, and now he had jerked him up as if he were a child. The old man sputtered, “You turn me loose! Who do you think you are?” He jerked himself backward and shook his fist in Jacob’s face. “You’re nothing but a poor relative. You don’t own anything! You be careful how you talk or you’ll be sorry!”
Jacob laughed harshly. “All right, old man. You take care of the flocks, then—you and those worthless sons of yours. I’m through! We’ll see how long it takes you to lose everything you’ve got!” He turned on his heels and stalked away, anger in every line of his body.
Leah, who was watching the scene, waited until Jacob disappeared into his tent, and then she hurried over to her father. She was taller than he was, for age had stooped him. She was also stronger in every way, physically and emotionally. “You old fool!” she hissed. “You’re losing your mind!”
Laban ducked his head and whimpered, “Don’t you talk to your father that way! It’s not respectful.”
“Why should I respect you? Jacob’s right. All you do is drink and sleep all day. You never give Jacob any help, and you never say a word to Lomach and Benzar. Those pitiful sons of yours! You should have taken a stick to them years ago. The three of you are absolutely worthless!”
Laban began to whine in self-pity. “I can’t help it. I’m an old man. I can’t work—”
“Be quiet! Are you so drunk you don’t know that if it weren’t for Jacob, we’d be beggars? He’s the one who, for years, has stayed out and done the work while you and your sons have loafed and consorted with harlots.”
As her tongue lashed at him, Laban glanced around, noting that everyone was listening. The worst of it was that he knew Leah was right. In his more lucid moments, he recognized that Jacob was the one who had brought prosperity to his family. He hated to admit this, but now he knew he was going to have to pacify Jacob. “You don’t think he’ll really refuse to work, do you?”
“Yes, I do, and I don’t blame him! You might as well get ready to go take care of the flocks yourself—you and your boys.”
“But I’m too old for that!”
“You’re not too old to make a fool out of yourself!”
Alarmed, Laban said, “Now, Leah, listen. I know I was harsh, but I didn’t mean it.”
“You think that’s going to mean anything to Jacob? It wouldn’t surprise me if he took Rachel and me and the children away. Then see how long you’d last! You’d have nothing.”
Laban’s face broke then, and he clawed his beard anxiously. “Wait a minute now, Leah. I was too harsh. Be nice to him.”
“I always am. You’re the one who mistreats him. I’ve begged him to leave you, and I hope he does. We have to do all the work.”
Laban realized he had gone too far. He cleared his throat and took his daughter by the arm. He had to look up into her face, and he pleaded, “Leah, don’t be so cruel to your old father.” He smirked then and said, “Be nice to Jacob. Fix him some good food and get him into bed. You seem to be good at that.”
Leah stared at her father. “You are a pitiful old man!”
“You can do it, Leah. You get him in a good mood, and tomorrow I’ll do something nice for him.”
Jacob was sitting in his tent seething over the harsh scene with Laban. He looked up when Leah came in.
“Your father is an idiot,” he spat.
“I know it, Jacob. He’s old and doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time.” She came over and ran her hand through his hair. “You’re absolutely filthy. I’ve cooked a lamb just the way you like it, with all the fixings. Would you like to clean up first or eat first?”
“Let’s eat. I’m starved.”
“You stay right here, and I’ll bring your food. We’ll have a good meal together.”
Jacob nodded, and soon Leah was back. He began to eat the olives and kemach bread, and afterward the lamb that had been boiled in sour milk; then he washed it all down with a fruity wine Leah had saved for him. He ate until he could eat no more.
Then Leah said, “You’re so dirty.”
“Who wouldn’t be after two days out in the desert with those filthy sheep?”
Leah began to remove his clothing, then brought a deep basin of water and began to wash him. Her hands were strong, and Jacob started to relax. She washed his body, then his hair, afterward anointing it with sweet oil.
She even washed his feet, and Jacob grew sleepy.
“Now, do you feel better?”
“Yes, I do. But your father…I don’t know what to do with him.”
“We’ll think of something. Come to bed now.”
Jacob lay down, and Leah settled down beside him. The warm food and the washing had relaxed him, and now she began to rub her hands over his face. She whispered, “You’re my sweet husband, and I’m your obedient wife.” She moved against him, and he could not see her smiling in the darkness. She knew she always had power over him at times like this, and even though Rachel might be the Beloved Wife, she was the one who had given him sons. Besides, she knew how to comfort him in ways that no other woman could.
Rachel had watched the scene between her father and Jacob. She had started for him too, but Leah had reached him first. Then Rachel had seen Leah follow Jacob into his tent and knew she could not interfere. She watched as Leah brought food and fresh water and then she stood there as the lamp in the tent went out. Turning, she went to her own tent and found Bilhah there, making a shirt for Judah. When Bilhah looked up and saw the expression on Rachel’s face, she put the sewing down at once. “What’s wrong, mistress?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes, there is. I can tell. Are you troubled because Jacob had a fight with your father?”
“No.”
Bilhah was puzzled. She was a simple girl, not particularly attractive, but warmhearted. She had large, warm brown eyes—her best feature—and was totally devoted to Rachel. “It’s Leah, then, isn’t it?”
Rachel shot a quick glance at Bilhah and then bitterness tinged her speech. “She gives him sons, and I give him nothing!”
“No. That’s not so.” Bilhah came and put her arms around Rachel. “He loves you the best. He calls you the Beloved Wife. You know he loves you best.”
But Rachel would not be comforted. She went to bed that night and could not keep back the tears as she thought of Leah with Jacob.
“Where’s Rachel?” Jacob asked Bilhah as she passed by. He had not gone to the fields the next day but had rested in the camp, and now the late afternoon sun was going down. “I haven’t seen her all day,” Jacob said.
Bilhah said with some surprise, “Well, I haven’t either. I thought maybe she was with you.”
“No. I don’t know where she is.” Jacob got up immediately and began to search the camp. No one had seen her, it seemed, and he began to worry. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, so he left the camp and made his way through the scrub brush over the sands until he came to the small familiar stream. He followed its winding curves until he came to the clump of trees that overshadowed it. As he approached, he caught a glimpse of bright color inside the thicket of trees and felt a gush of relief. Making his way through the bushes, he came upon Rachel, sitting with her feet tucked under her, staring out over the stream.
“Rachel, here you are!” He went over and sat down beside her. “I was worried.”
Jacob waited for her to speak, but she turned her face away. He heard her give a little sob, and he reached around and put his hand on her cheek. When he turned her face to his, he saw that her cheeks were tearstained. “Why, Rachel, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, Jacob, everything is wrong!” She fell against him and began to weep great sobs, and he held her, making comforting noises and stroking her hair.
When her sobs abated, he said, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Jacob, do you ever pray for me to have a child?”
Jacob had suspected this is what had brought grief to Rachel. “Yes
, I do, all the time,” he said. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head sadly. “But you know God hasn’t spoken to me, not since I left home. It was such a wonderful thing, Rachel, when I saw the angels on that stairway, and God made such amazing promises.” His voice grew sadder, and he bit his lower lip. “He promised me wonderful things, but they don’t seem to be happening.”
Rachel looked up at him. “Do you doubt the Lord?”
“No,” Jacob said firmly. “But I know His time is not like ours. I don’t think time concerns Him at all.”
“How can that be?”
“I don’t know.” Jacob shrugged. “I don’t think there ever was any beginning, and there never will be any end. But you and I and all humans, we’re caught in time—like someone caught in a river. Yesterday is gone. We’re sitting in the middle of today. Tomorrow may come if we live. We can’t think any other way, but I don’t believe that the Almighty is like that. He just always is.”
Rachel lay quietly in his half embrace. She loved it when he talked to her like this. Finally she said, “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“It is when you can’t really see anything happening.” But he shook his head and shoulders and said, “But God will be faithful.”
“I don’t know why God is silent. Why doesn’t He talk to us all the time?” Rachel whispered. “I’ve prayed to Him until I can’t stand to hear my own prayers.”
“I know what you mean, but we must not give up.”
“Jacob?”
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure that I should say.”
“Rachel,” Jacob said tenderly, “a husband and wife should not have any secrets. I want to tell you all that’s on my heart, and I want you to do the same for me.”
“All right,” Rachel said slowly. “I’ve been thinking…that you should take Bilhah as your concubine.”
Jacob had expected anything but this. “Why would I do that?”
“You know the custom, Jacob. If a woman’s bondservant has a child, it belongs to the mistress. The child would be mine in all but blood. It’s the only way I can give you a son, Jacob.”
Jacob was stunned. He had never thought of such a thing. He didn’t like the idea in the least, but she was insistent, and finally he said, “I’ll think about it.”
“Please. I would have a baby to hold and to raise. It would be our son.”
“What about Bilhah?”
“She would do it for me. I know she would.”
“She’d have to, I suppose. But I wouldn’t want to force her. She would have to agree.”
“Then you will think about it?”
“Yes, I will. But no matter what happens, you’re still the Beloved Wife.”
“Oh, Jacob, I love you so much!”
Later that night Rachel went to her father’s tent. He had gone to the village, and Ziva was out helping to deliver a child. Rachel knew where her father kept his household gods, for he had always put great stress on his idols. She unfolded them out of the soft leather he kept them in and stood them upright on the shelf. She stared at them for a long time, and her thoughts were thick within her. Jacob’s God hasn’t heard my prayer, but maybe my father’s gods will. I know Jacob thinks there’s only one God. Everyone else I know thinks there are many.
For a long time she stood there, but she could not bring herself to pray to the idols. Jacob’s stories about his father and about his grandfather had sunk deep into her spirit. She had learned to have faith and confidence in the God that had spoken to Jacob.
Finally she wrapped the gods back up, replaced them, and left Laban’s tent, determined to trust only the Almighty One.
Days passed, and Jacob said nothing about Bilhah, but Leah seemed to grow more cruel. She made her remarks openly now in front of the family and the servants, continually insulting Rachel for having no children.
Finally the day came when Rachel said to Jacob, “I must have a child.”
“You still want me to take Bilhah and have a child by her?”
“Yes. It will be our son.”
“All right,” Jacob said. “I will do it, but I’m not sure it’s wise.”
“It will be wonderful!” Rachel threw her arms around his neck, kissed him, and then ran away to her tent. She found Bilhah churning milk, and when her maidservant looked up, Rachel said, “Bilhah, I have something to tell you.”
“Yes, mistress?”
“I want you to have a child by Jacob.”
“Yes, mistress, if that’s what you wish.”
Rachel was shocked at the ease with which Bilhah agreed. “Are you sure? You understand what I’m asking you to do?”
“It’s a common custom.” Bilhah shrugged. “I never had any plans to marry, and this will be your child.”
“You understand that clearly, Bilhah?” Rachel sat down and put her arm around the young woman. “You will have the child and nurse him, but he will be my son.”
Bilhah was a meek little thing, and she smiled winsomely. “I’m so glad I can do something for you. You’ve been so kind to me, mistress.”
“Oh, thank you, Bilhah!” Rachel said, hugging her maidservant. “I hope you will bear me many fine sons!”
Chapter 14
“Don’t get up, Bilhah. I’ll get the jug.”
Bilhah, who was heavy with child, smiled gratefully. “You spoil me, Rachel,” she said. “I can do my work.”
“No. You sit still.” Rachel got up to fetch one of the heavy jugs of water that one of the servant girls had brought. She poured the water into a shallow clay dish and began breaking some bread into it.
“It’s not fitting for you to do that, mistress,” Bilhah said. “Let me do it.”
“We’ll do it together.”
Rachel moved the dish over to where the two of them could mix the lightly baked bread with the water. After it was thoroughly mixed, they would pass it through pottery sieves and set it aside to ferment into a beer.
Bilhah smiled with gratitude, for surely no bondwoman had ever been so carefully treated! Throughout Bilhah’s pregnancy, she and Rachel shared Rachel’s tent, and as the months passed, Rachel coddled Bilhah and demanded to know every physical sensation the surrogate mother was feeling. Rachel was very pointed with her questions, demanding to know if Bilhah had known when life had first begun in her. Did she feel pain in her back? Was there a craving for anything special she could get for her?
As the child in Bilhah had grown, draining her, Rachel had been happy. She had laughed and played with Leah’s boys. She had done Bilhah’s work as well as her own. Even such tasks as making cheese and grinding grain, which she had never liked before, had become a joy.
When the bread and water mixture was ready, she stood up and began to strain it, thinking of how close she had gotten to the woman during her pregnancy. There was no jealousy, for Bilhah repeatedly insisted that the child was Rachel’s, and the two women had grown closer than Rachel had ever been to her sister, Leah.
“I wonder if your child will be a girl or a boy,” Bilhah remarked. She put her hand on her stomach and said, “Lamah thinks it will be a boy, but Ziva thinks a girl.”
Rachel moved over and put her hand on Bilhah’s swollen abdomen. Her eyes widened as they always did when she felt movement beneath her hand. “I hope it will be a boy.” She leaned over and kissed Bilhah, saying, “We will raise him to be a fine man, won’t we?”
“Yes. Your child will be the best of all Jacob’s children.”
Jacob had walked out to the river with Rachel, and they sat as the afternoon sun went down. The water ran by, making a sibilant whispering along the banks. The sky was a strange turquoise color, and Jacob, always sensitive to such things, mentioned it. “I wish you had a gown of that color, Rachel,” he said. “It would look beautiful on you.”
“I have never seen a dye exactly that color. Maybe we could mix up blue and green pigment a
nd get something like it.” She took Jacob’s hand, lifted it and kissed it, and then laughed aloud. “I’m so happy, Jacob. I can’t wait until our baby comes.”
Jacob squeezed Rachel’s hand. “I like to see you happy.”
“You always did.” The two sat there quietly, not speaking. It was a time of peaceful contentment. Jacob loved to come to this place, for the strain of working with the large herd he had developed drained him of strength. He had made a peace of sorts with Laban, and in return the old man had forced his sons to do more of their work. They were still lazy louts, but at least Jacob received some help.
“Jacob, will you love me better after I give you a son?” Rachel asked.
“No.”
Rachel turned toward him, her lips open and a hurt look in her eyes. “You won’t? But I thought—”
“Love isn’t like that, Rachel.”
“But I don’t understand.”
Jacob was a thoughtful man. He sometimes got an idea and would meditate on it for days. It so happened that this particular subject he had given long thought to. He stroked Rachel’s hand for a time as he considered what to say. “I don’t think we love people for what they do for us. We love them for who they are.”
Rachel loved it when Jacob spoke of what was in his heart. “Tell me some more about love. You’re an expert,” she teased.
“I am an expert! And I have a likely subject to experiment with.” He put his arm around her and drew her close. “I don’t think we can make love conditional, Rachel. It’s like this. If someone says I will love you only if you will do these things for me, then that’s not true love. That’s an if kind of love. Conditional, as I said. I think true love is when we love someone without any ifs. No matter what they do or how they disappoint us, we love them anyway.”
“That’s so sweet,” Rachel said. “But those we love do disappoint us.”
The Gate of Heaven Page 13
