Finally Jacob said, “Laban, my God wants me to leave here eventually, and He will be hard on anyone who doesn’t treat me fairly.”
This troubled Laban greatly, for he was terrified of gods—those that he prayed to himself, but perhaps even more the great God of Jacob. He knew the history of Abraham and Isaac well and was convinced that their God was strong. “Now, wait a minute,” he said. “I’m not trying to cheat you. I just don’t want you to take more than what is right.”
“All right. I’m going to make you an offer, and it will be my final one. If you don’t take it, I am leaving.”
“You’re going to cheat me!” Laban protested.
“Listen to me, old man. I want to take only the animals that are streaked and spotted. Those are the least valuable ones, as you well know. Their wool and hides bring practically nothing at the market.”
“You want all of those?”
“Yes, and I’ll leave you all of the pure animals.”
Laban’s eyes narrowed. It seemed too good to be true, and he thought hard, trying to find some flaw with Jacob’s proposal. It was true enough that the darker animals did not produce the best wool and there were fewer of them. He took a deep breath and, seeing the determination on Jacob’s face, said, “All right. That will be our agreement. All the pure animals are mine, and all those that are marked or streaked or speckled will be yours.”
“Agreed,” Jacob said at once. The two did not shake hands, but Jacob was insistent on making the agreement known to everyone. He took the old man into town before the elders, and a scribe wrote it all down and made copies on pieces of sheepskin.
Laban held on to his copy, but his eyes were on his son-in-law. “Remember, the pure animals are all mine.”
“Exactly right, and those that are marked with spots or streaks are mine.”
“It sounds like such an awful deal, Jacob,” Rachel said. She had gathered with Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah again as Jacob had explained what he had done.
“It is a bad deal. You gave away the best of the livestock,” Leah groaned.
“That’s what Laban thinks.” Jacob was smiling. He began to laugh and walked back and forth.
“Have you lost your mind?” Leah demanded. “You agree to work for the worst of the beasts and you’re laughing?”
“Listen. What Laban doesn’t know—and what you don’t know—is that these streaked beasts, the brown ones and spotted ones, are far heartier than those that are pure white. I don’t know why it is, but the white animals are much quicker to fall prey to disease. And I’ll tell you something else,” he said. “The brindled animals drop twins more often than not, and almost all of their offspring are female. That means more animals, more wool, more cheese. And the hair of all these mottled goats, why, it’s different. It makes a much stronger weave than pure white.”
The four women listened as Jacob went on about the future. Finally he said, “It’s going to take a little while. I want to leave here with all of the animals I can. But in a year, or perhaps two, we’ll have a herd as large as we can handle. In the meantime, start collecting things. When we leave here we’re going to take the best we can with us. All of the oil, the grain, the wine, the tools. I’ll keep my eyes open for herdsmen who’ll leave this place with us.”
“Well, I’m ready,” Leah said, shaking her head. “We’ll never get ahead the way we’ve been going.”
“It will be very good, husband,” Rachel said. “I’m proud of you.”
“It’s going to take a few miracles, but in a couple of years we’ll be back in Canaan with my parents.” He did not mention Esau, pushing away any thought of his brother. “I’ll be home again after all these years!”
Chapter 20
The world of Dinah and Joseph was unbounded by time, or so it seemed to them. Day followed day, and week followed week, and as the weeks turned into months, they were only vaguely aware of the stirrings within the family. They had both picked up, as children will, on the “secret” that one day they would depart from this place. But time meant little to them, and when they were told it would not be for many months, they threw themselves into the activities around them.
The family of Jacob had divided itself into two separate groups. Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah were older and did the things that older boys enjoyed. They worked, they hunted, they went on expeditions—usually keeping to themselves and having little to do with the rest of Jacob’s sons.
It was the younger children that mostly made up the world for Joseph and Dinah. Dan was the leader and Naphtali his lieutenant. Gad and Asher were headstrong and made difficult playmates, so Joseph, Dinah, Issachar, and Zebulun spent much of their time together. Being the only girl, Dinah was the one who instigated most of the games that the group occupied themselves with.
Dinah was a marvel to everyone, making up games and stories and songs without effort. It was Dinah who would make up some fabulous story and people it with her brothers. Sometimes one of them would be a monster, another would be a bird. Whatever came out of her head she wanted to act out, and her brothers usually went along with her ideas.
Joseph, although the youngest of all, was almost as imaginative as his sister. He threw himself into the games with all of his energy and added his own refinements to the dramas the children enacted.
Being the youngest, Dinah and Joseph were spoiled—no great secret to either the family or the servants. Quite often Dinah would forget or rebel against the tasks that Leah set for her. One of her jobs was to feed the goat they were keeping in a pen for a feast. She got so involved once in her games that the poor animal suffered with no food or water. Leah had discovered this and had come out to where Joseph and Dinah were playing with Zebulun and Issachar. Leah grabbed Dinah by the arm and screamed at her, “You didn’t feed the goat!”
Dinah tried to pull away, but Leah was too strong. The girl was dragged screaming until Leah pulled the branch off of a tree and thrashed her, leaving stripes on her legs.
Finally Leah laid one last hard blow on the girl and said, “Now, you forget again and see what punishment you’ll get next time!”
The three boys had watched in awe as Dinah had screamed and fought with her mother. There was no passivity in this girl! Any one of the three boys would have submitted—indeed, they had received thrashings by the elders without resistance—but not Dinah. They watched as she ran off, and Joseph turned and said, “She’s going to tell Father.”
“She always does.” Issachar grinned. “What he needs to do is thrash her himself.”
“He’ll never do that,” Zebulun said, shaking his head. “Come on. Let’s go see if we can trap some hares.”
Jacob was startled when Dinah burst upon him. He had been half asleep when his daughter came squalling and threw herself at him. He caught her and saw that she was in a temper—which was not unusual.
“What’s the matter, daughter? Did you fall down?”
“No. Mother whipped me.”
“Whipped you? What for?”
“For nothing!”
“Come, now. I don’t think your mother would do that.” Jacob put the girl down and was shown the stripes on the backs of her legs. He saw that she was not crying, however, for she was not a crying child. She would cry over a sad story or a sad song, but punishment simply hardened her. She would set her mouth, grit her teeth, and glare at anyone who was doing the paddling—even Jacob himself.
Jacob finally got the truth out of the girl and shook his head. “You should have fed the animal, Dinah. Your mother was right to punish you.”
As young as she was, Dinah had become an expert in manipulating her father. She was an accomplished actress and could project any mood she chose. The role she chose now was to be the repentant sinner. She turned her face up to him and pulled her mouth down and opened her eyes wide and then said in a plaintive voice, “I know. I’m an awful girl.”
Jacob was helpless before this young girl. He could handle men, or even his wives and concubines,
but Dinah had a power over him he couldn’t resist. He saw tears forming in her eyes and, not knowing that she had the ability to cry at will, his heart smote him. “Now, now, it’s not that bad,” he said.
For a time Dinah played her father as a man will play a fish before landing it, and finally Jacob found himself talking not about Dinah’s disobedience but about something far different. He had even been aware of the transition to the subject of a red dress.
“Menna has a red dress, and I want one like it.”
“You’re too young for that kind of dress. Menna’s a grown woman.”
Dinah never directly disagreed with her father—not vocally, that is. He was sitting down, and she crawled up into his lap. She twirled his beard and stroked his hair and then turned a sad face to him. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I don’t really deserve a red dress. I’ve been such a bad girl.”
“Well, now, you haven’t been all that bad. But the dress is a little old for you.”
“You’re probably right, but I want it so bad, Father. You can’t imagine. I sometimes wake up at night thinking about it.”
Jacob sat there holding his daughter and finally frowned. “Well, I’ll have to think about it.”
“All right. You’re so sweet,” she said, pulling his head down and kissing him. She knew she had won, and she ran off laughing on the inside at how easily her father was to manage. Her head was full of the red dress, and she wanted someone to share the triumph with.
When Dinah reached the boys, she found they had been joined by an older boy named Aaron. She did not like Aaron because he refused to play her games. Her brothers, however, looked up to him, for he was older and knew about things they didn’t—things like hunting and fishing.
“What are you doing here?” Aaron said.
“I can come here if I want to,” Dinah retorted angrily. “You don’t own this place.”
“You go on home. We’re going out on a hunting trip and no girls are allowed.”
A stubborn expression settled itself on Dinah’s face. She had a well-shaped mouth. Her lower lip was more prominent, and when she wanted her own way she had a habit of sticking the lip out and staring at her opponent. “I can go if I want to.”
“No you can’t. You fellows tell her she can’t go.”
Joseph said nothing, but Zebulun said, “You’d better stay behind this time, Dinah. You can’t keep up.”
“I can too!”
Issachar glanced at Aaron and saw the anger gathering on his face. He said quickly, “Aaron’s the leader, and he said you’d better not go.”
“I will too go!”
Aaron scowled at her. “You’re not going.”
“I’ll follow you!”
“Come on,” Aaron said. He laughed roughly and came to stand over Dinah. “You’d better stay here and play with the rest of the girls. This is men’s business. Come on, fellows, let’s go.”
Dinah did not hesitate. The boys took off, and when they saw she was following them, Aaron called, “Come on. Run as fast as you can. She can’t keep up with us.”
Dinah was a stubborn girl, to say the least. She did not stop to think about what her mother would say, nor her father. She only knew she had been challenged, and that was all it took. As the boys took off running, she ran as fast as she could. All of them barely flew over the ground, but age and strength began to tell. Joseph looked back once as she was being left behind, stopped, and called out, “Go on home, Dinah. When I come back, you and I will go on a hunting trip.”
“I’m going with you, Joseph!”
But Joseph shook his head. “You can’t keep up. Now, go home or you’ll get lost.”
Dinah shook her head and increased her efforts.
They aren’t going to leave me behind, she thought grimly. I can keep up with them.
The boys were tired and hungry as they gathered around the fire where they were cooking two hares they had caught in a snare. Actually Joseph, Issachar, and Zebulun were too young to really know what they were doing, but Aaron was clever in finding game and at making snares. It was growing late now, but the scorched meat they held over the fire on sticks smelled delicious.
When the two hares were done, Aaron took the meat off the sticks and began cutting it with a bronze knife he was very proud of. The boys helped themselves to the pieces of rabbit and began blowing on them and gulping them down. They had built the fire by a small spring and satiated their thirst too while they ate.
Suddenly Issachar lifted his head. “What was that?”
The others boys looked around. “I don’t hear anything,” Aaron said. But they all knew that Issachar had the best hearing of any of them.
“Somebody’s coming,” Issachar said nervously.
The boys got up at once. They were out of sight of the camp, and they could encounter such things as bears or even a lion. Aaron took the knife out of his belt, but apprehension was in his eyes.
“Maybe we’d better get out of here,” Zebulun whispered.
But then a figure appeared from out of the scrub bushes.
“It’s Dinah!” Joseph cried, and he went forward at once.
Dinah stopped and felt relief wash through her. She had been lost, and the thought of being alone in the wilderness with wild animals had intimidated her. But now she covered that up and came forward to meet Joseph. “I told you I’d follow you, didn’t I?” she cried triumphantly.
“Come on,” Joseph grinned. “You can have some of the rabbit, and I’ll bet you’re thirsty.”
“She’s not getting any of this meat,” Aaron said, scowling. He was furious that Dinah had been able to follow them, and he came to block her way. “You can’t have any of our food. Now, go back home.”
“I won’t!”
Aaron turned her around and gave her a push. She fell down on her hands and knees, and Joseph, without warning, threw himself at Aaron. The sudden attack threw the larger boy back, and he tripped. He fell to the ground, but as Joseph fell on him, he easily rolled him over and straddled him. He punched Joseph in the face and was raising his fist to strike again when he suddenly yelled out in pain. He rolled off and grabbed Dinah, who had leaped on his back and was screaming with the full force of her lungs, clawing at his face, kicking, and spitting. Joseph got up and returned to the fray. Though he was much larger and stronger than either of them, Aaron was taken aback by the savagery of their attack.
Issachar and Zebulun dove forward. Issachar grabbed Dinah and pulled her back, and Zebulun did the same of Joseph. “You shouldn’t fight,” Issachar said nervously.
Dinah shook loose from her brother and said, “Come on, Joseph. We don’t need them.”
The two walked off, and Aaron touched his bleeding face where Dinah’s fingernails had clawed him. “I hope you get lost and a bear eats you!” he shouted.
Joseph took Dinah’s hand. “Come on. I wasn’t having any fun with them anyway.”
“We would have whipped him if Issachar and Zeb hadn’t got in the way,” Dinah said.
Joseph laughed. “I believe we could have. Well, come on down to the river. We’ve still got time to play there. Maybe we can catch a turtle.”
“All right, Joseph.”
The creek was no more than six feet across, but it was easy enough to pretend that it was a mighty river like the Nile, which they had heard about in stories. Joseph and Dinah splashed and chased small fish and pretended bandits were attacking them. Soon they were submerged in a deeper pond. Their hair was soaked and night was coming on, but Dinah said, “Let’s not go home yet.”
“We’d better. It’s going to get dark pretty soon, and you know how your mother is when you stay out too late. Mine too, for that matter.”
“I’m going to get a red dress.”
“What for?”
“Mother whipped me this afternoon.”
“Yeah. I saw that.”
“I went to Father, and he fussed a little. But he’s so easy to manage.”
Joseph suddenly laughed. “He is for you, but nobody else can do it. How did you get the promise of a red dress out of him?”
“Oh, I just patted his cheek and played with his whiskers and made my face look real sad—like this.”
Joseph turned to look at Dinah’s sad face. He grinned and said, “You’re spoiled is what you are.”
“Well, so are you. Father likes you best of any of the boys.”
“I guess that’s true, but it doesn’t seem right.”
“I don’t mind it. I like being spoiled.” She threw water at Joseph and caught him full in the face. He began throwing water at her, and finally he grabbed her. They wrestled, sometimes going under but then coming up and exploding with laughter.
After a bit Joseph said, “Come on. That’s enough. We’ve got to start home.”
“You know what, Joseph? We’ll always have each other,” Dinah said. “You and me. We’re different from our brothers.”
“That’s right. It’ll be you and me. We’ll always be close, Dinah.”
Dinah suddenly slapped at Joseph’s chest and said, “Come on. I’ll race you home.”
Joseph let her get ahead and, of course, let her win as he always did. I’m no better than Father, he thought. I let her do anything she wants to, but so does everybody else. I don’t think that’s always good, but who can help it with a girl like that?
Chapter 21
After making the agreement with Laban concerning the flocks and the herds, Jacob worked harder than he ever had in his life. He wore himself thin training the other shepherds and moving the individual animals into herds where the breeding would favor his own. It was during this period of time that word came from traders passing through that Esau had become a prosperous herdsman and that he had changed from what he had been as a young man. This encouraged Jacob, for always at the back of his mind was the guilt over how he had treated his brother. As for his wives, both of them were anxious to leave.
The Gate of Heaven Page 17
