“Time will heal. Back to the problem. Intuition is real and ignoring it as you do does not help you progress.”
“Did I make it happen or agree to it in some way? Could I have done more?” I moan.
“Think. I already gave you my answer. Make your way back to class.” The cloud flutters as he floats away.
Resheph is strong and I loved that about him. He turned that love against me. I hate being a woman. A weak woman. Will he try again? If anyone finds out, or if Resheph speaks . . . no one will find out. I will make sure. He robbed me of safety and confidence, and other things I have not yet named. A shiver comes with a memory. While I fought him and screamed with pain, my body liked it after he entered me. Even my body betrayed me.
I lie down and inhale deeply. This time it is different. My shoulders are back against the soil and my hands are turned upward. Thorns seem to jab at the center of my palms, but do not hurt. The pricking ceases and I am peaceful and healed. At least for now. “Thank you, whoever you are.”
It does not last. Pictures of Resheph moving above me run through my head. Men are strong. Women cannot stop the violation. I swear no one will ever harm me like this again. I look down at myself, at this body, this thing I hate, this thing that deceived me. I hate me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
If Kotharat finds out I was wandering, I will be in trouble. I go to class the next morning. At mid-day I return to the empty house. I had to be away from Resheph. Seeing him makes me want to crumble into pieces and bury myself in the soil. Hurt myself so I know I am alive. My arms want to pound the earth, break something, or throw a cook pot. How do I stay away from the beast? Was I stupid to go to class? I cannot accomplish anything, but Abram might be upset if I do not come back.
Two date cakes and I am back in my seat. The only empty pillow is one I avoided. A disagreeable muddy brown. I stare at Abram while he speaks and hear but one word, home. The thought makes me shudder. I do not have one. I thought I did. Where do I find another? I trust Abram . . . Abram. A small ray of hope warms me.
I fidget waiting for the class to finish. My future depends on this. I must be careful of what I say. The other students leave. Resheph is gone. I cringe at what I must do, but it cannot wait. My stomach is wrung out like the wash but cannot be healed by hanging it in the sun. I force myself forward. My hands are steamy. My insides are screaming. I am at the front of his bench.
“I am sorry to bother you, Abram, but may I speak?” The tremor in my voice betrays me.
“I have been waiting.”
“There was some trouble.”
“Yes, child. Your face and wandering attention told me something was wrong.”
I hesitate. How do I say what I need? “I have difficulties with the family that took me in.”
“I am listening.”
I fight back the tears. “It is difficult to speak of and I am so ashamed.”
“Did you bring it upon yourself?”
I study his face. Can he tell I might be with child? “I do not know.” Tears escape.
“Tell me.”
“I am thankful for finding Resheph’s home. I did everything they asked and they were pleased. Resheph’s mother added many more things to do. I did not mind, but it was not what we agreed on. It tired me and left no time to study.”
“But you do well in class.”
I shrug my shoulders. “My work is not adequate. I am anxious all the time and worry constantly.”
“Why do you doubt my words?” He studies my face. “What are you not telling me?”
“I will say no more.” He remains silent. Have pity, Sandalphon, it is the shame making me lie again. “Resheph leers, tries to catch me unclothed and touch me. He creeps up and it is not in jest. He has been helpful, but that is a trick to make me think the other things he does are innocent. I do not feel safe.”
“Safe. Is that the sum of what he has done?”
I do not move. “My future is now in question.”
“Why is that?”
“I am afraid to live in that house any longer.”
“That is a bit severe. Is there more?”
I can no longer hold it in. “Oh, Abram. He followed me the other night. We were each going to work on a lesson.” I take a breath. “He did what should not be done to a virgin.”
“What do you need from me?”
“If . . . maybe I could live somewhere else,” my voice trails off. “I am sorry to ask so much. I will go.” I turn to leave.
“I did not say it is too much. Let me consult with some people and I will try to find a solution.”
I walk back toward him sucking the knuckle of my finger. “Thank you. Abram. You asked us to be merciful. But how can I do that with such a deed?”
“It will take much time before that will happen. We can be generous with the person for their frailties because everyone suffers from them. As for the deeds, forgiveness may or may not come later. Can you try?”
“I am not sure.”
“Hiding from what occurred does not permit you to heal. When we no longer avoid our reality and choose acceptance, peace has a pathway to healing. Then hurts will slowly dwindle. Take your time. It will come.”
His gentleness warms my heart. “What about now? How do I live with this family, go to class with Resheph, be near him?”
“You are in a difficult position. If someone has taken advantage of you, it is not your fault. The indignities you carry are not yours. Let them go and I will try to have an answer soon.”
My arms go around his neck and I hold on tight. He puts his arms around me, offering safety, support, and love. I could stay in these loving arms forever. I would go anywhere with Abram.
Walking out the door my legs falter. The front of Melchizedek’s house offers a place to pause. Home. Was it ever a welcomed word? I would like it to be. Sandalphon takes his time setting down as if to assure me of his gentleness. “I must make my way to Kotharat’s. I need to be sure Resheph is not near.”
“You had a difficult time.”
“I am so glad you are here. Will Abram help?”
“He said to wait.”
“If I must leave, what dangers will I face?”
The green in his cloud throbs. “I cannot foretell your future.”
“I must go as soon as possible.”
“Do not rush the steps. Allow them to unfold and have love in your heart.”
I stand and move away. “Love? What will I do if I am with child? This is too hard.”
“Take a deep breath.” I do as Sandalphon asked. “Will a discussion of Eve be too difficult? It might help with your thinking.”
“I am too upset to listen.”
“The story of Eve has been misjudged in your realm. Lilith, was Adam’s first wife and appeared to the couple as a serpent.”
“Lilith?”
“She was jealous of Eve, the new wife, and tried to entice Adam to come back to her by tempting Eve with the fruit. Eve bit into the fruit and they were banished from the garden.”
I turn to the cloud. “And Eve was blamed.”
“And so may you be blamed for what happened. For this couple, that was the moment they received the knowledge of good and evil.”
“That is a gift?”
“Lilith did not know her actions would cause the couple to walk hand in hand, as Sarai and Abram do. No longer innocent, they were exposed to pain and pleasure, the contrasts we spoke about. You too, have left some of your innocence behind and are becoming conscious of the realities of life.”
I turn away. “Am I supposed to thank god for being damaged? For being blamed? How does this help? My life will never be the same.”
“Neither was Eve’s. Find peace. You will also find a way.” The green in the cloud swirls as he disappears. Why must we learn with pain? One concern is not gone, my blood flow has not started.
Preparing the last meal of the day gives me no time to think. With that meal done I excuse myself and fall into an exhaus
ted sleep. My dreams are filled with demons and strange creatures chasing me, trapping me with nets, and taking me to a different land.
Six cycles of light and dark pass and at dawn on Abram’s request, I am on a donkey going to Sarai’s tent. I lied to Resheph and Kotharat and told them Abram gave me a special task to be done at a place of my choice. My excuse is somewhat true. Abram’s servant introduces himself as Doron. He stays at my side. There are no worries, Abram’s servant keeps me safe.
Each lurch of the animal makes me cringe. Of late I jump at almost anything. The sun is at its peak as we draw up to the one tent as far as can be seen. Sarai’s servants surround me. They lift me from the animal and escort me to the entrance. I see Sarai and the same feeling strikes me as at my first meeting with Abram. She shines, twinkles like the stars, a most magnificent woman, ageless in body and face. More than that, the air around her sings of peace and joy. I cannot move.
As if my reaction is well known, she takes my hand and sweeps her free one toward the tent. I barely nod. With her arm around my middle, she moves me inside and points to a mat. I sit. She hands me a goblet. I drink. She sits next to me. I stare. She waits.
My fingers move over the mat’s suppleness. It is unlike any other I sat on, soft and made of lamb’s wool. My fingers wish to dig into it but I cannot command them to do so. Time passes.
“Welcome to my tent.”
She spoke in the softest voice I ever heard, yet she startled me. I manage to swallow. “Thank you, my lady.” My tone is that of a child. I clear my throat and wait.
“You may call me Sarai. Abram told me you must leave Urusalim for your safety.”
Did he betray me? I did not ask him to keep my secret. I stare at the vastness of the tent and its pretty blue and white stripes.
“If you do not want to speak of it . . .” Her voice trails off. It is soothing, but waves of disgrace move through me. “I hope I was not insensitive,” she adds. “Abram suggested you join us. We go to Kiriath Arba soon. I thought it was best to meet and get to know each other before the trip.”
Go with them. Kiriath Arba. My head bobs up and down. “I would like to go.” I force my lips to turn upward.
“Ah. There you are. Now I can say welcome.”
I turn away. “I am sorry. Your presence is so strong it took me by surprise.”
“And you have had a challenging time.”
“That, too. Also, Abram speaks of you as his crown, his princess.” What will it be like with the two of them in the same room?
“We will get along well.” She sounds sure.
“I think so, too.” I smile. “At least I hope so.”
“Hope is grand and so is knowing. Be sure of your knowing even if you are not able to speak it.”
“Thank you.” I sit up tall. “I am sure we will get along.”
“Elisha with the sad eyes. Remember you are God’s child and worthy of a valuable life. Abram’s servant will return you to your quarters.” She rises. “It is settled.” She moves toward the outside. “When Abram is ready.”
I follow her. “Is there nothing more? No questions?”
She turns back. “I have all the answers needed.”
We say our goodbyes, and I climb on to the donkey. My wish at this moment is to be in this woman’s presence. She is different from any other female I have met. The donkey rocks, and I call out, “Until the next time,” my spirit soaring.
On the way back my attention darts in many directions. How do she and Abram understand people so well? What will it be like doing their cooking, baking, and cleaning? To wash and fold their clothes with loving care? Will she like me, treat me as she did before, putting me at ease?
One thing that disturbs me is the god issue. Abram prays to the Holy Spirit so Sarai also must. Will she try to change me? Even so, I want to be with her. “Please,” I pray, “make this happen for me. I wish it more than anything. Please let me live with Sarai and Abram and have them be my teachers. And—keep me safe.”
What if she is busy and ignores me? What will I do farther from my family? Did Abram tell her my secret? There are no answers, yet peace envelops me and my heart soars with a joy I had forgotten. The last time it lived in me was long before the council fire.
I am at the house and the family is enjoying the evening breeze. I want to retire to my mat, to be alone. It finally feels safe to go to my sleep space. I stand and wetness runs between my legs. I race to my curtain. My body announced my woman’s cycle of the moon. I use some leaves to clean myself. I will clean the mess again later when they are asleep.
Many cycles of light and dark have passed since I spoke to Sarai. I wait and wait for an answer and continue living with Resheph. Thoughts of hurting him roam in my head and bring unrest. Sandalphon’s muted colors signal his arrival, but I must finish the cleaning.
“Are you troubled, Elisha?”
“The family is outside. Can I clean while we talk?”
“Of course.”
“I have been thinking about my parents. I want to go south with Abram and Sarai but is that what I should do? Go farther from home?”
“I do not make choices for you but can help with questions. Do you wish to change your circumstance or stay where you are?”
Questions. Always questions. “What are you saying? How can I stay here after what happened with Resheph?”
“That sounds definite.”
“Nikkal does not know all that happened. She is my friend, but she may accidentally tell my tale.” I move away.
“What disturbs you?”
“Sadness, shame, and anger at Resheph.” I did not mean to say the words and hide my face in my hands. “I was sure I could make him love me. Baal Hadad is speaking to two Abbas for Resheph’s betrothal. I cannot live through what will come. The celebrations, the ceremonies, the excitement and joy. If they could know the truth about their son.”
“Then tell them.”
“They will not believe even if proof is in front of their eyes. He is the son who can do no wrong, the one who is worthy.”
“And your anger?”
“I am not angry. I am upset.”
“Because you are angry?”
I lift the broom and shake the dirt into a pile. “Are you saying I should be angry?”
The cloud bends. “I am saying you have the right to be. Did you forgive him?”
I sweep another area. “Ima taught me women do not get angry.”
“It might be too soon for forgiving. What is next?”
I shrug. “I must decide and send a message to my parents.”
“Remember you have choices. You can go home. You have leaves to choose from.”
I stop sweeping to look at him. “It is right for me to observe this woman who brought heaven down to earth in the way she leads her life. She can teach me much before I return to Shechem. Abram said he would keep teaching me if he is not too busy taking care of his holdings.”
“It is your choice.”
“If I go home, I will be unacceptable again. All that will happen is more unhappiness, more disagreements, and shunning or banishment.”
“It is your leaf to eat.”
“The outcome has been taken out of my hands.”
“Are you convincing yourself?”
I do not answer and turn toward the trees. “What I wish is to be like a daughter and help the couple. I love Abram already and his woman is special. That could be my repayment for their kindness. Not in the way of a barter, my actions would come from my heart.”
“That is a wonderful idea. Remember the healing of the hands you enjoyed? Why not try doing that after you wake up? And one more issue. You asked me to pardon you, and that is not within my power.” His voice trails off and the cloud dissolves.
I would love to do for Abram and Sarai what I cannot for my own parents.
Sandalphon was right, the palms up contemplation is a wonderful way to welcome the morning. I walk the winding path toward the spring. If Abram and
Sarai will let me go with them, I will be the best helper and say nothing. I will learn everything, think things through, not depend on others, and do whatever is necessary for them to know I am worthy.
The well almost in sight, Resheph comes along on his way to class. I shiver and the need to throw up grabs at my stomach. My heart tells me to send him away but then I might not have a home. Choices, choices. I hate being caught between two things. The elders gave me no alternative when I wanted to stay, and now Resheph stands beside me and I wish him gone but dare not speak the words. “What is wrong with you?” he asks.
His voice is muffled, and his observation disturbs me. “Nothing.”
“You jump at the slightest sound as if danger is ahead.”
Who is slow now? The threat is you. “There is no danger.”
“Say what is wrong.”
Wrong? Does he think what he did is right? He knew what he intended. The thoughts make my teeth clamp together. First he assaults me, now he is trying to befriend me as if nothing happened. If I were a man I would . . . “Nothing is wrong,” I repeat through gritted teeth.
“Do not hurry. Your tasks need to be done. I will tell Abram you will be late.”
If I could hurt him . . . but I can’t. If only my abba was here. He would cut off his organ.
The filled jugs stored, I am on my way to class. If Abram betrayed me I know of no way to make it different. I will not deny him. I love the man. How should I be in his presence? Treating this as a challenge will help me get through. I must trust that what should be, will be.
The class is excused, and Abram signals me to wait. I have an excuse to not walk home with Resheph. Does he have an answer?
“First let me say you are welcome to come with us to Kiriath Arba.”
I break into a big smile. “Thank you, Abram, thank you.”
“We will be leaving soon, so gather your things. I will inform you of the meeting place and time.”
Mountain of Full Moons Page 15
