The Gate of Heaven

by Gilbert, Morris

  “That’s what you think. What time is the sale?”

  “Late this afternoon, but you can’t go. Father and I are going alone.”

  “You’re not the only one that knows how to work him. I’ll bet I could get him to let me go.”

  Dinah suddenly laughed. “You probably can. You’re as spoiled as I am.”

  “Impossible!”

  “Well, if you can get him to agree, then I suppose I’ll have to put up with you.”

  Jacob looked down at the game board that lay between him and Joseph. It was a very ornate game of Hounds and Jackals, much like he had played with his brother, Esau, when he was a boy. This one was made of ivory and had insets of gold and silver. The markers, which were carved sticks with either a jackal’s head or a hound’s head, had eyes of semi-precious stone. Jacob loved games of all kinds, and now he made a final move and said, “There, I win. You can’t beat your father yet, young man.”

  “Let’s play again,” Joseph said, grinning impudently. “If you lose, you can buy me that bronze knife I’ve been wanting for so long.”

  “What if you lose?”

  Joseph laughed. He had a good laugh, and it was often heard, for he was a cheerful young man. He was bright too, brighter than any of his brothers, even at his youthful age. Rachel had bequeathed him her imagination, her quickness, her sense of humor. Jacob knew he was wrong in making such a favorite of this boy, but he could not help it. “Well, what do I win if you lose?”

  “If I lose, we’ll play again until I do win. You’ve got to get me that knife, Father. I need it.”

  Dinah came in as Jacob was pondering his answer. She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. “Time to go to the sale,” she said.

  “Oh, Dinah, I can’t possibly go!”

  “But you promised, Father.”

  “It’s my hip,” Jacob said. He tried to move, and pain etched its mark on his face. “It’s very bad today. I just can’t.”

  “Is it the hip you hurt when you wrestled with the angel of the Lord?” Dinah asked.

  “Yes,” Jacob said. “I can never forget that time. This hip of mine is a reminder.”

  “I wouldn’t think an angel of the Lord would hurt you.” Joseph’s eyes conveyed puzzlement as he spoke. “God doesn’t hurt people, does He?”

  Jacob studied Joseph for a moment, then said, “Yes, He hurts people. Or He allows us to hurt ourselves. Most of the pain comes because we either make a bad choice or else God is trying to keep us from making a bad one.”

  Joseph leaned forward, his eyes clear and his features intent. He loved to hear Jacob speak of his encounters with the almighty God and would have asked for more, but he could not, for Dinah interrupted.

  “Father, please! This will be the last chance. There may not be another trader along for a year, and you promised me.”

  Joseph leaned back and watched. A smile turned the corners of his lips upward, for he well knew what would be the outcome of this. Jacob would protest, and Dinah would hug him and play with his beard and stroke his hair. She would look up into his face and give him a mournful expression. Then in the end Jacob would give in. He always did!

  Finally Dinah said, “You can just give me the money. Joseph and I can buy the servant.”

  It took a little more persuasion, but finally Jacob threw up his hands. “All right. You’ll worry me to death if I don’t. Joseph, you make sure she buys a suitable servant.”

  “You can count on me, Father,” Joseph said. He winked at Dinah. Both of them knew he would have little say in the matter, but his words reassured Jacob.

  Jacob got up and moved painfully to get the box that he kept the coins in. He counted out several of them and said, “This is all you get.”

  “Oh, just a little more! I want to get a nice servant.”

  Jacob tried to resist, but in the end gave in.

  Dinah kissed him, and as the two left the tent, Joseph said, “I’ll look after her, Father.”

  They went at once to Dinah’s tent, and Joseph said fervently, “I wish I were a spoiled girl.”

  “You’re spoiled enough as it is. Come on. We’ve got to hurry.”

  After Joseph and Dinah left Jacob’s tent, Leah—who had sat quietly during the commotion—approached Jacob. “You spoil that girl, Jacob. She’ll make life miserable for a husband. She’ll expect him to give in to her like you do.” Dinah was her only daughter, and she was proud of her, but she could not resist giving Jacob a hard time.

  “No, I don’t spoil her. I just like to give her nice things.”

  Leah sniffed. “You do that all right! She can twist you around her little finger, that girl! I wish I could handle you that well myself.” Then a sour expression twisted her mouth. “Only she can manipulate you the way Rachel can.”

  Jacob said, “Well, Leah, I did promise her a servant. You had one when you were her age—Zilpah—and Rachel had Bilhah when she was no older. It’s only fair.”

  “You should have insisted on my going with her.”

  Jacob knew he should have but said, “I didn’t think of it. Don’t worry. She’s got a lot of sense. She’ll make a good choice.”

  Dinah looked at the four female slaves, all of them older women, beaten down, and not at all pretty. “I can’t buy one of those!” she cried, turning to Joseph. “I want a young, pretty girl.”

  Joseph shrugged his shoulders. “Men buy the young, pretty ones. They go fast.”

  Dinah was furious. She had her heart set on a servant girl, and she very rarely was disappointed. “Maybe they’ve got some hidden somewhere in those tents over there.”

  “You can ask,” Joseph shrugged. “Maybe they have.”

  Dinah had been watching the master of the slaves. She approached him and said, “Pardon me, sir.”

  Khalid bowed low. He recognized the richness of Dinah’s clothing and the jewelry sparkling in the afternoon sun. “What can I do for you, mistress? You need, perhaps, a good slave?”

  “Yes, but I need a maid. A young, pretty woman.”

  “Ah, mistress, I regret that those are not available.”

  “You don’t have any that you’re holding back?”

  “If I did,” Khalid grinned, “I would certainly bring her out now. But I don’t have any such thing. They go very fast, you know.”

  Dinah said, “Thank you,” and turned and walked away. Joseph joined her, and they started down the line. They had not paid attention to the male slaves earlier, but suddenly Dinah stopped. “Look at that man.”

  Joseph turned and saw she was pointing to a tall man who was standing stiffly. His ankles were chained and his wrists also. “He doesn’t look like the others, does he?”

  “I’ve never seen anyone like him. His skin is so fair, almost as fair as mine.” Dinah moved closer until she stood right in front of the man. “Look at his eyes. They’re blue—almost like the sky.”

  Joseph was not impressed. “He’s been whipped. Look at those marks on his chest and probably on his back too. And he’s pretty stringy.”

  Dinah was walking around the man, studying him as she would an animal she intended to buy. He was dirty, and the whip marks were abundant and some of them had started to fester. “He stinks,” she said, “but he looks like he’d be strong if he were fed well.” She reached out and punched the man’s chest and felt the firm muscles.

  “Leave him alone, Dinah,” Joseph said with alarm. “Don’t be poking at him.”

  But Dinah was fascinated. His skin, if it had not been scarred, would have been smooth, and there was a strength in him that she saw, even though he was emaciated. She began to poke at his stomach, and suddenly the slave shoved her away. She staggered, taking small steps and flailing with her arms, then fell flat on her back.

  Anger boiled over in Dinah. She screamed out and got to her feet as Khalid came forward. He had seen the whole thing. Another man carrying a heavy stick was with him. Both of them were furious.

  “Do you let your slaves treat buyers l
ike this?”

  Masud lifted the stick and struck Demetrius on the shoulder. Demetrius exploded. He went for the man, wrapping his chain around the man’s neck. He was strangling the man when Khalid raised his own stick and struck him on the head. It took several blows, but finally the slave went limp.

  Masud freed himself and began to curse. He looked around for his stick and began pounding at the inert body of the slave.

  “I’ll kill him!” Masud screamed. “He’s nothing but trouble.”

  Dinah took him seriously and was alarmed. “Wait,” she said, “don’t kill him!”

  Instantly Khalid said, “Wait a minute, Masud.” He turned to the young woman and remarked, “He’s a troublesome fellow. I’ve made up my mind to do away with him. He’d be no good to anyone. Go ahead, Masud,” he said. “Finish him off.”

  Masud raised his stick and struck the head of the slave. It made a thumping sound that sickened Dinah.

  “Don’t do that!” she said.

  “He leaves me no choice,” Khalid said smoothly. He had been watching the young woman as she had inspected the slave, and a sly thought had come to him. The rebellion of Demetrius had given him the idea. He had no idea of letting Masud kill him, but he shrugged now and said, “The fellow would be better off dead. He has a streak of violence, as you see.”

  Dinah swallowed hard. “You…you’re really going to kill him?”

  “Oh yes. We have to do that from time to time,” Khalid said calmly. “I’ll have him hauled off where you won’t have to watch it. Take him and slip a knife into him, Masud, or beat him to death. Whichever you like.”

  “With pleasure!” Masud said.

  Dinah watched as Masud motioned, and two of his men came to drag the limp body off.

  “Wait a minute! You…you can’t just kill him!”

  “Oh yes. He’s given Masud a lot of grief, and he’s of no use. No one would buy him.”

  Dinah stared at the bleeding body of the pale slave and said, “How much do you want for him?”

  “Oh, only twenty kalehiras.”

  “That’s too much,” Dinah said.

  As she began to bargain, Joseph came along and argued. “Dinah…Dinah, you can’t buy that fellow. He’s a bad one.”

  “I can’t let them kill him,” Dinah whispered.

  The bargaining ended with Khalid pocketing the coins Dinah had brought. “Take the chains off of him,” he commanded Masud.

  “I still say we should have killed him,” Masud growled, but he removed the chain.

  “Now what are you going to do? He can’t even walk,” Joseph said.

  “I don’t know.” Dinah was furious with herself. She often did things like this, but she knew she had let herself in for a great deal of trouble. “You’ll have to help me talk Father into this.”

  “Not me,” Joseph said vehemently. “You made a fool out of yourself, but I had nothing to do with it.”

  The two stood helplessly until finally the slave began to roll over. His eyes were dazed, but he sat up and his hand went to his head, which was bleeding.

  “What’s your name?” Dinah demanded in Syrian—the language of the traders—hoping the slave would understand.

  “Demetrius.”

  “What kind of a name is that?” she demanded, but he would not answer.

  “Can you walk?” Joseph said. “Let me help you up.” He leaned over and helped the tall, fair-skinned slave to his feet.

  “Come along,” Dinah said. “You belong to me now.”

  Demetrius gave her a look. He was in considerable pain, but he stared straight back at her. “I’m no slave,” he said.

  “Yes, you are. They would have killed you if I hadn’t bought you.”

  “You should have let them,” Demetrius said grimly.

  Joseph noticed that a crowd was gathering. This would be all over the village and would, no doubt, drift back to Jacob. “Come on, Demetrius, we’ll get you out of here.” He pulled at Demetrius as Dinah walked away, her head held high.

  “Who is she?”

  “Her name is Dinah. We’re the children of Jacob, the Hebrew. Come along. We’ll get you cleaned up and give you something to eat. It looks like you could use it.”

  Dinah turned and demanded, “Will you come along?”

  “We’re coming,” Joseph said quickly. He turned to Demetrius and whispered, “She’s not as bad as she seems.”

  Demetrius stared after the young woman. “No, she couldn’t be,” he said grimly.

  Dinah wasn’t quite sure how she was going to break this news to Jacob, or for that matter, how he would react. But she didn’t think it would be good. As soon as they returned home, Jacob asked to see the maidservant she had bought. Dinah began to stammer, and Jacob eyed her with suspicion.

  “What have you done?” he demanded, and finally the story came out. For once, Jacob was livid with Dinah.

  Joseph tried to defend her, saying that the man would surely have killed the fellow, but Jacob simply shouted, “What business is that of yours? You mean you spent all your money on a half-dead male slave that you have no use for?”

  Dinah tried all her wiles with Jacob, but for the first time in her life, nothing worked. Jacob’s face remained grim.

  Leah had entered while this conversation was taking place and learned what had happened. She was of no help to Dinah either. “I told you not to let her buy her own slave,” she said to Jacob. “Now see what you’ve got.”

  Jacob ignored his wife and turned back to his daughter, saying sternly, “You’re entirely responsible for that fellow. He’ll try to run away. If he escapes, Dinah, I’ll sell every ring and every robe and every garment you own to make it good. Now, get out of here! I didn’t know you were so foolish!”

  Dinah whirled, glad to get away, and Joseph quickly followed. “I’ve never seen him so mad,” Joseph remarked in awe. “I thought he was going to take a stick to you!”

  Dinah could not speak, she was so mortified. She was an astute young woman, spoiled but not at all stupid. She knew she had made a terrible mistake, but she couldn’t bear being thought of as foolish by her own father. When she saw the slave standing nearby, being carefully examined by several curious onlookers, she walked right up to him. “I wish I’d never seen you!”

  Demetrius said nothing, and this angered her as well. “All right. You belong to me, and you have to do what I say.” She turned to Joseph and said, “See that he has a place to sleep. Chain him up. Make sure he doesn’t get away.”

  “What are you going to do with him, sister?” Joseph asked. And when Dinah looked around, she saw that the curious onlookers were waiting for an answer.

  “It’s none of your business!” she shouted at them all with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she whirled and stalked away.

  Joseph turned to the slave. “Well, Demetrius, come along. At least we can wash you up. I imagine you’d like that.”

  “Yes,” Demetrius said. He felt a sudden wave of gratitude for the young man, although the sister was unbearable. “I have never been this dirty in my life.”

  Joseph led Demetrius to his own tent, where he had servants bring water. It took several washings for Demetrius to get clean, after which Joseph said, “I’ve got some ointment here for cuts. My mother’s good at things like that.” He searched until he found it, and Demetrius began to apply it to his cuts and bruises.

  “Here. Let me get your back,” Joseph said.

  Puzzled at this kind treatment, Demetrius asked, “Why are you helping me like this?”

  “I don’t know. Because you need it, I guess.” Finally he said, “My sister’s not as bad as she must seem to you.”

  “I doubt that. You, however, are kind, sir, and I thank you very much.”

  “Do you speak any Hebrew?”

  “No. Just Syrian. But I pick up languages easily.”

  “I’ll have to turn you over to Obed, Demetrius, but I’ll have to warn you, you can’t get away. He’s a fine tracker and
a dead shot with a bow. A rough fellow. I’m sorry, but I don’t have any choice.”

  “It’s all right. Did I hear correctly that your name is Joseph?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m too weak to run away now, Joseph, but I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not a slave.”

  Joseph felt the truth of this statement—and the power of the man. He could not answer, for the blue eyes seemed to be boring into him.

  “Someday,” Demetrius said softly, “I’ll leave here and go back to my home.”

  Joseph felt the impact of this, and he said, “I believe you will, but don’t try it with Obed around. Come along. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  Chapter 27

  “Look, Ada. Dinah and Demetrius—they’re at it again!”

  The speaker, a full-bodied young woman named Temira, put her hands over her mouth to cover her smile. “You’d think she’d give up trying to make Demetrius bow down and kiss her feet after all this time.”

  Ada, the older of the two, turned from where she was standing beside the vertical loom and studied the tall form of Demetrius as he stood facing Dinah. “She’s not going to get anything out of him—that’s for sure. Look at him! He doesn’t look like a slave, does he?”

  The two women were standing on opposite sides of a large loom, passing a shuttle back and forth between them as they wove a colorful rug.

  Ada shoved the shuttle through, and as Temira pulled it her way, she laughed softly. “You’d think Dinah would know she’s making a fool of herself. The whole camp has been laughing at her ever since she went to buy a maid and came back with Demetrius.”

  “Her father hasn’t been laughing much.”

  “No, that’s true. Probably the first time in Dinah’s life she hasn’t been able to make it right with the old man.”

  The two women continued to move the shuttle back and forth, from time to time pushing the horizontal strands of wool up to the top, where the pattern of the rug was beginning to take shape. They were both, however, more interested in the conversation that was going on, which they could hear plainly.