Mountain of Full Moons

by Irene Kessler

  “Yes, she does. See her eyes just a little darker?” comes from a young girl.

  The littlest one, another girl, pulls on my tunic and holds her arms high for me to pick her up.

  “What is your name, little one?”

  “I am Rena.” Her voice is high and more piercing than I expect.

  “Were you told how precious your name is? It means song of joy.”

  “Abba said so. He wants me to be like his sister. She sings pretty tunes.”

  Tears come to my eyes. “And so she does.” I twirl her around and laugh with a joy I had almost forgotten. I put her down and she watches me fall into my brother’s arms. At a loss for words we hug and cry, hanging onto each other. I had no idea how much I missed him.

  Nathan backs away still holding my arms. “I cannot believe my eyes. I did not trust I would see you again.”

  “And I you, my dear brother. So much happened since I left.”

  “There is so much to tell it will take thirteen full moons to catch up.” He takes my sack, puts his arm around my waist, and leads me into the hut. Rena is still watching.

  “Nathan, I do not recognize this place. You added so many sections.”

  “What else could we do with six children? You will share a space with the older girls. Rachel will return soon.”

  “You did well, and now I can help. How wonderful.” I examine his face. “But you did not mention Ima.”

  “She is here, somewhat worn, but still manages to get around the village to take care of others. She will be back any moment.”

  My hand goes to my heart. “I was so worried. I could not be here for Abba and need to spend time with her.”

  “And she with you. She said this morning how sorry she was we could not hear you sing in Shechem.”

  “You did know.”

  “Yes, but with Ima and the children it was not possible. And if you were that close, you were coming home.”

  “That was my plan all these years.” Nathan and I hold each other for a long while. I break away. “I have something I wish to say. Please excuse me for the many times I got angry with you. I was not always nice to the sweetest person in my life. I love you. And one more thing. I do not remember you hurting me, but if you did, I pardon you.”

  “Foolish girl.” And he hugs me again.

  “You still think of me as a girl.”

  We separate and he goes outside to take care of the children. I sit on the mat. What is my mother like? Did she change or will it be like before? Someone once said, “Your family got rid of you.” It was not the truth, but it did feel that way. A familiar voice makes me turn toward the entrance to the hut and run. “Ima, Ima, I am home.”

  “Elisha,” she shouts, and folds herself into my open arms. I cry. She does not.

  She moves away and I study her face. I do not like what is there. She is haggard and bones were almost all there was left to feel. “Are you well?”

  “Yes, though I am in my advanced years.”

  The quick twisting of her tunic tells me she lied. “I am glad. You seem marvelous.” My lie is defensible.

  “Elisha, my child. It is wonderful to have you near, but I hope you are not here to make trouble.” We gaze at each other.

  She is the same. “Why would you think that?”

  “Come into the hut. I walked too far and need to rest. We will talk after the meal.”

  Even with my arm around her she leans on her stick and her steps are unsure. We make our way inside. For the first time, I yearn to take care of her, love her back to the healthy woman I left long ago, though that is not possible.

  Once inside she sits and I take her hands. The darkness removes all the wrinkles. “How have you been since Abba left us?”

  “A great sadness took hold for a long while, but I am used to enduring it.”

  “I know you miss him as much as I do.”

  Tears come to her eyes. “Who do you think you are? He was my husband.”

  “Of course, I did not mean—you know—I was not here.” Together for a moment and already I said the wrong thing. Ima lies down on her mat and falls asleep. I must cherish any moments we have left.

  Another female voice yells, “Where is everyone?”

  It must be Rachel. I go to greet her. She and Nathan are teasing each other. “I am so happy to meet you, Rachel.” We enjoy a big hug. Rachel’s curls fall around her face and cascade down her back. She is pretty and her essence sets alight all around her.

  She goes to the cook fire.

  “May I help you?”

  “No, you may not.” Rachel laughs. “This is your first meal here and after your long journey I demand that you rest.”

  “I obey. I do not want to get into trouble the moment I arrive.” We hug and laugh. I am glad. It gives me a chance to observe the family.

  The children are well behaved. They stare at me and whisper to each other. Rachel is the perfect mate, Nathan’s equal whether they tease or are serious. They are happy, and my heart is content.

  The children are asleep and we gather around the fire to ward off the cool of the evening. Nathan was good to me, but there is a part of me that was jealous. He had friends and could go wherever he wished, climb trees, and shear sheep. All I could do was keep house.

  “Tell us of your absent years,” Rachel encourages. Her eyes invite me.

  I will not hold anything back. The evening is spent in recitation of the vast length of time away. I speak of the journey and Resheph’s abuse and watch their faces change and eyes grow dark. They light up with tales of Sandalphon, Abraham and Sarah, and again when I speak of Doron. The pain in their eyes at the separation from Doron reaches across the flames and into my heart.

  When we finish it is well into the darkness. “Before we part, I must tell Nathan something.” I turn to him. “The blade you made for me was stolen along with my harp. I am so sorry.”

  “Silly girl. Not to worry. I am sure we can borrow a harp from someone.”

  There is love in this home, but my recitation brings up questions. Was that the life I was meant to live? My girlish dreams were of marriage and children. My life was an adventure of difficulty, joy, and learning. What more could I ask for? It is time to settle down with my family and do what I can to make life easier for them. Many burdens are lifted. They accept my life for what it was, trying and glorious.

  I wake to Nathan calling my name. “Yes, Nathan, what is it?” Rena is watching.

  “Someone saw you, and there is a request for you to attend a meeting in the hall.”

  “Now? You just woke me. A request or a command? Oh, Nathan, has nothing changed?”

  “Things here are about the same. We like it that way.”

  I say the wrong things, but do the men still beat their wives? “I did not mean . . . will I have to go through the same thing again?”

  “I do not know. Get dressed and have a quick meal. I will go with you.”

  Being with my family warms my heart, but I will not stay if I can be only what they want me to be.

  My mother insists on joining us. “Must you wear that fancy tunic?”

  I will not fight with her. “Sarah gave it to me and it is all I have.” My arm is around her. “We will walk at your pace. If it is not too much, I would like to see the changes in the village.” We pass some new huts. They are no different from the old ones and we head for the new building.

  “I hope the chief knows I do not wish to have trouble.”

  Ima is beside me. “After the number of years you were away and what you accomplished, they do not dare.”

  Her words are more precious than Abraham’s wealth and make me feel better. We get close to the hall and an army of villagers has gathered to chant.

  “Go back where you came from.” “No evil people are wanted here.” And every other mean sentiment.

  My head is as high as Abba’s at the council meeting long ago. Have these men learned nothing? I grab onto Nathan’s arm, and he wards off those
who try to hurt me. He yells, “This is my sister. You know me well. Leave us alone.”

  We make our way into the hall at last, and I can lean against the mudbricks and mortar of the wall and take a moment to calm myself. My mother takes my face in her hands. “You will be fine, Elisha. Do not speak out of turn and be polite.”

  I grit my teeth. “Thank you, Ima.”

  A man appears. “Come this way.”

  In front of us is a large meeting room. Many of the village men are still filing in, a small number the children I grew up with.

  The guide points. “Wait here.”

  While we wait for the guide, I close my eyes. Under my breath I make amends. “I forgive and remove all guilt from those who hurt me, including the children even if they are no longer with us.”

  The guide comes back and points the way into the large room.

  “Who is that person?” I whisper to Nathan.

  “The son of the chief who banished you.”

  “Galina bat Shamgar, please come forward.”

  “Excuse me, my lord, but I still use the name Elisha.”

  Nathan pokes me in the back. “Do not make it difficult,” he whispers. I move away from him. My mother gives me the eye.

  The chief stares. “You were banished, why do you return? You are not wanted.”

  “My lord, my family wants me.” Ima pulls on my garment. “I left countless moons ago, traveled, studied, and saw much. I wish to spend my final time helping my family.”

  “That is your reason? What can you offer this community?”

  “A heartfelt apology for what happened as a child and my promise to be a productive member of my birthplace.”

  “I am aware of what you have done. This village needs assurance that you no longer speak to unseen voices.”

  “Does that include God and his angels?” Nathan pokes me harder. Someone snickers.

  “Of course not.” The chief is annoyed.

  “The voice I speak to is an angel who helps musicians. His name is Sandalphon. According to your views, he is one I can speak to.”

  “He is the single one?”

  “Well, there is God.” I hear my mother cry out.

  “Are you willing to swear to that?”

  “If I must.”

  “Please approach.” I leave my brother standing with Ima and walk up to the Chief.

  “Put your hand on your heart and swear in your own words.”

  “Before I do, chief, may I ask a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “In the many years I was away I traveled through most of this land, studied with Abraham and Sarah, and saw things the people of this village could not imagine. My adventures are part of who I am and not something I am able to discard. I would like to know if I may speak of them.”

  The crowd screams disapproval. Nathan gasps. Ima has her hands over her ears.

  “Quiet. One more sound and this crowd will leave.” The chief rings his bell until they quiet down. “That is not something that can be approved now.” The crowd yells their assent. “Perhaps in the future, but you must prove yourself first.”

  “What does that mean, my lord?”

  “You will prove that you can live in peace and have something to offer. That is my final decision. You may now pledge to the village or leave and not return.”

  “I swear to those present, that except for God and the angels, I do not speak to any voice not contained in a person’s body.”

  The chief is smiling. “Welcome home, Elisha.”

  We turn to leave. “Nathan, what was that? He welcomed me and called me Elisha.”

  “I am not sure, but I think it might be a way to do his duty. Elisha, it is over. You are home and safe.”

  “But not free. I am bound by the rules of who they want me to be.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Nathan is content. “Now you can settle in with all of us and start a new life.”

  “Please do not be upset, but I want a place of my own.”

  “What for?”

  “It has nothing to do with you or the family. I need quiet time. That will not happen in the hut.”

  “With my brood, I agree. What are you proposing?”

  “Remember the tent you once off ered?”

  “A tent.”

  “Do not be surprised. I lived in Sarah’s tent all that time. But this is just for sleeping. I could live there, close by, and come to take care of the children and the meals. After the evening meal, I would return. That would offer you and the children some privacy.”

  “And Ima?”

  “Her needs will be cared for, but she is with one friend or another, like now.”

  “She is baking date cakes to welcome you,” he whispers. “Are you sure?”

  “In my travels, I learned about contemplation and reflection. They take quiet time. While I love you all, that will not happen with the goings on in the hut.”

  “I understand.”

  “Thank you. I must tell you of something I came across. This family had a large tree in the garden like ours. They covered it with flax cloths, small branches, and leaves. We ate under it and the air was delightfully cool.”

  “Wonderful idea. There is so much to do. I will try to get to that.”

  The time flies. I make sure to walk with Ima to assure she does not fall. “Thank you so much for the delicious cakes you made. I enjoyed every one.” I made her smile.

  The rest of the time is filled with cleaning two places, gathering what to cook, preparing meals, entertaining the children with stories and games, or taking them on walks. I do not dare teach anything like reading or writing, but the children become like my own. Rachel and Nathan enjoy more time for each other and their chores. Ima is spirited but her decline is clear. The question is still—am I acceptable?

  Four full moons later, I am in my tent reflecting on my new life. Something has been disturbing me but what is not clear. I lie on my mat and allow my thoughts to fly. It is not long before I am successful. This village does not fit me. Or do I not fit it? As much as I love my family, do I belong here? Being the peculiar one already raised its head. What happened to my courage and boldness? I am no longer the person who deserves the special name, Elisha.

  The morning chores complete, I go outside to find Rena sitting near my mat. Her lovely brown eyes are staring at me. Before I can greet her she asks, “Dodah Lishee, can you teach me your songs?” Her eyes are open wide, her fingers are in her mouth.

  “Do you like to sing?”

  “Yes.” Her light brown ringlets nod with her head. A serious face confides, “Not songs,” she whispers, “but beautiful music comes to me before I sleep.”

  That happened to me as a child. “I will think about that. Now it is time for Dodah to prepare the midday food. Go and play.” She pouts with disappointment.

  Nathan’s brood listened to me hum one of my songs while doing the wash. “No Dodah, we must hear your words,” they insisted. Then they went out to play, except for Rena. It seems she wants to be wherever I am and tells anyone who will listen she is five seasons of growth.

  Replaced with household chores and chasing little ones. the music, the learning, the journey and the excitement all disappeared. There is no resentment, they have my heart. I want to take care of my family, but something is missing. Is housework what I will do for the rest of my life?

  If I teach Rena, I can do the same with other children. There is wisdom that says things happen as they are supposed to. Where did my boldness go? Come on, Elisha. How can you be comfortable not sharing what you know? The relentless hunger for life beats against my heart. If I were young, it would do what was asked. The strength of youth would fill my imagination. Not squawking or rasping as I do now but singing out with passion. How can anything be the same? My body is tired, worn out too soon. The children are young and ready to learn.

  Old fears and doubts plague me, but my insides say this is right. I knock on the doorpost. “Chief, may I
speak with you?”

  “Yes, Elisha, do come in.” The chief’s hut has not changed except for a few windows letting in the light. “You look well. What do you wish to talk about?”

  “At the last meeting you asked what I can offer. Mine is an unusual request not granted to women. I learned much on my journey that I want to teach.”

  “What makes you think I would allow this?”

  I take a breath to calm myself. “I was taught by Abraham and Sarah and wish to honor them.”

  “Who do you want to teach?”

  “The children. When they learn, they will pass it on to the next generation and the wisdom will be saved.”

  “What do you intend to explain?”

  “Living a good life, the importance of forgiving, the difference between a want and a need, finding out what kind of person you want to be, kindne—”

  “That is enough. You will not use Canaanite ways?”

  “Chief, I know little about them. Though I lived among them, my contact was with Abraham and Sarah.”

  “Only what you studied from them will be taught, and I will visit and listen whenever I choose. Are we clear?”

  He is saying yes. “You are welcome at all times. Is there a shelter in case of rain?”

  “There is room at the meeting hall.”

  “I promise I will not disappoint. It is too important.”

  We rise from the mats and he walks me to the path going back to Nathan’s hut. “Thank you again, chief.”

  “Understand that I must consult with the council members, and they must approve. I will let you know their decision.” He sounded as if it was done. “Thank you again.” Waving goodbye, I turn for home. What if the council will not agree? Right now, the problem is my doing well enough for the children to understand the lessons.

  My mother is uncomfortable through the evening meal. All is cleaned and stored before she speaks. “Elisha.”

  My mother and her challenging tone. “Yes, Ima?”

  “What is this rumor about tutoring children?”

  I forgot what it is like in a small village. “I spoke to the chief, and he is seeking approval from the council. The amusing thing is, my nieces and nephews will be included.”