Michal's Window

by Ayala, Rachelle

  “Yes… but.” I took a deep breath and caught another sob. “It never stays.”

  David rocked me in his arms. “My love, I mean to make you most happy.”

  “Do you believe happiness and love are the same?”

  “No. The person you love the most can make you most miserable.” He squeezed me. “But if I had to choose, I’d rather have love.”

  I shivered and clung to his tenderness, wrapping this moment around my heart. “I want both.”

  The fuzzy morning star winked from the horizon to herald the beginning of the dawn. Moments later reddish tinges rimmed the mountains across the Salt Sea. The haze above the sea took on an orange tint as the rays of the unseen sun brightened the scant clouds a dark pink hue mixed with purple linings. The hint of a ghostly crimson fan spread into the sky above the purple hills, the colors growing more intense as the bright spot greeted us.

  “Good morning, Isha.” David wet my lips with a kiss.

  “Good morning, Ishi.” I licked his lips and folded him into my embrace.

  Below us, the waters reflected the orange-purple patterns and the vibrant colors above. Red, orange, purple and blue gave way slowly to the white light of the sun, wrapped in a conical robe of its red glow as it took its place in the sky, driving away the departing dark.

  Angelic choruses sang praises to the majestic glory of the LORD. David’s face glowed as bright as a seraph, and he sang:

  Bless the LORD, O my soul.

  O LORD my God, thou art very great; thou art clothed with honor and majesty.

  Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment:

  who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain:

  Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters:

  who maketh the clouds his chariot:

  who walked upon the wings of the wind.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, we packed our camp to trek back up the steep rock wall. The air was still cool, so we hurried to tackle the most strenuous parts. I tired easily and needed help. Arik and David pushed and pulled me up the boulders and over the rocky steps. Around mid-morning, we finally emerged at the top of the cliff. Arik whistled to signal the two guards with the animals.

  I didn’t want to worry David, but my womb had hardened while I climbed. Thankfully it had softened once I was seated on the surefooted mule. David led the horse up the difficult switchbacks we traversed on the way over. This time we crossed without incident.

  David waved to his guards and said, “We’ll go back by way of Ziph and Keilah.”

  He placed me back on his horse and held me between his forearms. “I fought the Philistines on their behalf, but the ungrateful rogues betrayed me to your father. We can stop at Abigail’s estate in Carmel and take a break.”

  “Will you tell me Abigail’s story now?” My head lolled contently on his chest.

  He held me closer and kissed my temple. “Your father gave me no rest back then. He sought me every day. One time, we were trapped inside Keilah, a town that had gates and bars. Your father planned to besiege us. I sought the LORD and He commanded me to flee right away. So we went, six hundred men and their families, and escaped to the wilderness of Ziph. Your father pursued us from Ziph to Maon, and surrounded us on the side of a mountain.”

  “How did you get away?”

  “The LORD delivered us. Just as your father came for the slaughter, a messenger reported the Philistines had invaded the land. While he fought the Philistines, we escaped to En-gedi. After En-gedi, he returned home for the winter. It was a cold, hard winter, and we were hungry and tired. We came upon the farm of a wealthy man in Carmel. He owned over three thousand sheep and a thousand goats. We made friends with his hired shepherds and protected them from bandits and wolves. We were so hungry we begged him for food.”

  I shuddered to think how David had suffered. “You were hungry? I didn’t know.”

  “Yes, I was crazed with hunger. The man refused us, and I planned to kill every man on the farm and rob it. I was on my way to attack when Abigail appeared before me. She led donkeys loaded with bread, wine, sheep, and corn, clusters of raisins and cakes of figs. She fell at my feet and told me her husband was a fool and entreated me to spare their lives. I can still see her…” His breath seized, and he stopped talking.

  When he caught me gazing at him, he kissed me and pressed me to his chest. My heart lurched, and I fought pangs of jealousy. She had helped him and possibly saved his life, and I could not begrudge her his affection.

  A jolt in my abdomen sharpened into pain that tightened around my womb. I leaned forward and clutched my side. Sweat popped over my face, and my head buzzed like hundreds of bees swarming at a hive.

  David tightened his grip on me, which only caused my womb to contract again. “What is it?” he said. “You don’t look well. Relax.”

  I lurched forward, and my eyes watered. “I can’t. Get a midwife.”

  Chapter 28

  Psalm 139:14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

  >>><<<

  David carried me to the shade of a large sycamore tree. He sent the guards to find help and procure a cart to take me back to Hebron.

  I drank water and lay on my left side, my head in David’s lap, waiting for the pain to subside. It can’t be happening now. It’s too early, unless it’s Phalti’s baby.

  A guard returned with a flagon of wine. The pangs had subsided, and I rested comfortably on David’s knees. “I like it when you rub my head,” I murmured. “It calms me.”

  “That’s how I used to get my little cow to behave,” David said. “She was so stubborn. Her mother died, and I fed her milk from a skin. She’d follow me around, but when I wanted her to go back to her pen, she’d stick her legs out and resist until I rubbed her head. Like this.”

  He rubbed my head a little rougher, and it didn’t calm me anymore. I held his hand until he relaxed and lightened his touch.

  Arik came back and reported, “We’re not far from Carmel. Abigail’s brother is following with a cart, and the servants are preparing a room. I’ve also asked for a midwife to meet us.”

  After a slow ride, we arrived at the estate Abigail inherited from her former husband. Servants greeted us and brought me to her bed after a relaxing bath. The midwives gave me some medicine, and my womb stopped tightening. David left my bedside to let me rest.

  When he returned later in the afternoon, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” I smiled. “I missed you.”

  “Are you up for any visitors?” he asked. “They came as soon as they heard.”

  “Is Naomi with them?”

  “Yes, and so are Abigail and Ittai.”

  “Why would Ittai want to see me?” My voice squeaked, and I hiccupped with sour wine.

  “He feels responsible since he’s your bodyguard.” David patted my hand. “But it’s fine if you don’t want to see him. How about Abigail?” He kissed me and touched my face. “She wants to be your friend.”

  “I’ll see Abigail now. Later, after I’m rested, I’ll assure Ittai I’m fine.” I didn’t want David to suspect I had any reason for avoiding him.

  David called for Abigail to enter. His affection for her shone in the manner he greeted her and the tender way he touched her. She had always deferred to me and treated me kindly, but I couldn’t help thinking of the years I missed with him.

  After scanning him with adoration, she bowed her head. “My queen, I’m honored to have you at my home. I’m here to serve you with whatever you need.”

  “Thank you. You may call me Michal.”

  David watched us with interest, sending me a smile of encouragement.

  Abigail sat at my bedside and took my hand. “Are you still having contractions?”

  A clammy sweat broke over my brow as she rubbed my hand with her cold, wet, nose-of-a-dog fingers.

  “They come every no
w and then,” I said. “But they don’t hurt.”

  “That’s great. The wine and yam root must be working. The midwives are conferring. They’ve asked me to count your contractions and time them. You’re still too early, about three months, and the baby is too small to be born.” She glanced at David, and a look of worried understanding passed between them.

  “When you have a contraction, squeeze my hand, and watch the mark on the candle.” She held up a wooden stick with notches against the top of the candle and noted the number. “David, do you want to get a servant to help watch the mark?”

  He nodded and returned with Ittai.

  “Eglah, I have some business in Hebron, but I’ll be back tonight.” David pecked my cheek. His lips curving, he pinched my behind and departed.

  Ittai suppressed a snort. My womb tightened immediately, and I squeezed Abigail’s hand.

  “Lady Abigail,” Ittai said. “I don’t know how to mark the count.” He held up the reed and parchment. “Perhaps I should hold her hand, and you can measure the candle and write it down.”

  Abigail agreed and held the stick to the candle, dipped the reed into the inkwell and made a mark.

  Ittai clasped my hands with his large, firm hands and stroked my palm softly. My breath hitched, and I squeezed his hand to signal another contraction.

  “Mark it.” His deep, throaty voice sent shivers down my spine.

  “Abigail,” I said under my breath, “I’m hot. Can we count contractions later? Ugh, another one.”

  “They seem to be coming more frequently all of a sudden.” Her eyes wide, she ran out the door and called, “David. Has he left? David.”

  Ittai stroked the side of my face. “I feel so bad that this has happened to you, Michal.” He caressed my name with his voice.

  “It’s not your fault.” My breathing quickened when he tried to kiss me. “Please let go.”

  “Just tell me you still care,” he whispered.

  “I can’t do this.” I mouthed the words, barely sounding them, as a stronger contraction tumbled me to the side. I buried my head in the pillow and peered at him with one eye.

  He let go my hand just as David and Abigail rushed into the room.

  “How is she?” David said.

  “How many contractions?” Abigail asked.

  Ittai threw his hands up. “Too many, I lost count.” He ran from the room.

  The two midwives hurried in and looked at each other. David hugged me too tightly. I raised my hand to signal another contraction.

  “Calm, my lord. Sit.” Abigail commanded. “If you’re going to get her excited, king or no king, you will have to leave.”

  “What happened?” David said. “She was calm when I left. Give her more wine.”

  He grabbed my hand, kissed it and rubbed it, causing another contraction. “Stay calm, darling, stay calm.”

  I signaled to Abigail. “They’re starting to hurt.”

  She tapped David on the shoulder. “My lord, you’re exciting her. Please, you must leave. I and the midwives will watch over her.”

  David smoothed my brow. “I’ll be back tonight.” He looked like he wanted to kiss me. My womb hardened again, and I clutched my side.

  “David, don’t go.” I panted.

  “My lord. You have to leave.” Abigail’s voice was tight and firm. “I’ve never seen her so agitated.”

  One of the midwives felt my womb. “It’s hardened since the last time we were here. If she doesn’t calm down immediately, she’ll lose the baby. I checked her size, and it is too young to survive.”

  I put my arm over my face and gulped back tears. “Oh, David. I don’t want to lose our baby.”

  He bent over me. “I won’t leave your side. Everything will be fine.”

  How would he know? Everything wasn’t fine with Samuel. An ache curled my heart just above my belly, and I prayed silently.

  “My lord.” Abigail gripped his arm. “You must leave.”

  “You’ll let me know?” He gave her a tender look and let her lead him out the door.

  Abigail came back and asked Naomi to bring me chamomile tea. She then took out a loom and sat back to weave. The clack, clack of the shuttle and her gentle humming soon lulled me to sleep.

  By evening, the effects of the wine, yam root and chamomile tea had calmed my contractions. My little inhabitant wriggled cheerfully, bringing a smile to my face. Abigail put out the oil lamp and tucked me in. I imagined she hovered over me like a mother, and even kissed me, patting my head and smoothing my hair from my face.

  When I woke, David sat at my side, holding my hand. “I’ve brought your things. The midwives say you must stay in bed until the baby is born.”

  “I don’t want to lose your baby.” I brought his hand to my cheek. “Do you love me?”

  “I love you, Eglah.”

  “Say my real name.” My voice surprised me with its vehemence.

  He stood and walked to the end of the room. “I’ve given you a new name, one that Phalti never used.”

  “Phalti’s not here with me, you are.”

  “I’m sure you still think about him.” His left eye twitching, he fiddled with the things on the table—combs, a mirror, and my two boxes: sandalwood and silver.

  I reached to him, gesturing with my fingers. “Don’t torture yourself. We’re going to have a baby, our baby. Come, lay next to me and hold me.”

  “You sure it won’t hurt the baby?”

  I wiggled my fingers and smiled. “Come.”

  He peeled off his robe and crept into the bed beside me and carefully placed his hand on my hipbone. “Michal, I love you. I do love you.”

  * * *

  A month and a half passed in peace. During that time, Abital delivered a healthy baby boy. David named him Shephatiah, a judge of the LORD. Abigail sat with me daily and told me about her life in the wilderness. After she helped David, my father sought her head, and her own brothers hunted her, ostensibly to rescue her from the outlaw David. Surprisingly, David was Nabal’s near kinsmen, and hence she was able to keep the estate and land after marrying him.

  One night, after she had gone to her room, a dull pain prodded me out of my dreamless sleep. I sat up and a gush of warm fluid collected between my legs. My screams brought Naomi and Ittai. Naomi ran to fetch Abigail and a midwife.

  Ittai smoothed my hair from my face. “Are you afraid?”

  I clutched my abdomen. “I’m going to lose David’s baby,” I cried. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “You won’t lose the baby. I won’t let you.” He held me as another contraction pushed its way through my womb. “It’s my fault for not going with you on the trip. I would have carried you over the cliffs.”

  His eyebrows lowered over serious eyes. “Why didn’t you want me to come along? I’m your personal bodyguard.”

  “Aaahhh…” Another contraction sent me to my side. “I think the baby is coming. Something moved down. Ittai! Help me.”

  He threw his hands over his head and skipped around the room, going to the door and looking up and down the corridor. “Where are they? I don’t know what to do.”

  “When the baby comes, cut the cord with a clean knife. Heat it in the flame.” I gestured to the oil lamp.

  “But, where’s the baby?” He fumbled with the lamp, almost spilling oil over the blankets and starting a fire. “I don’t see it.”

  Panting and out of breath, I propped on my elbows. “It’s burning down there. The baby’s coming. Do something.”

  His arms flapped like the wings of a beheaded chicken, and his eyes circled wider than an owl’s. His panicked breathing scraped my nerve endings raw.

  Forgetting his uselessness, I pulled off my blankets and untied my robe. As the next contraction rolled around, everything shifted and a heavy surge of fluid propelled a mass through my birth canal. I had not pushed, and there was no excruciating pain, only a dull numbness as the tiny form shot out in deadly silence.

  My thr
oat filled with dread. “Is he dead?”

  Ittai cut the cord with the hot knife. “He’s trying to breathe. His mouth is open.”

  “Then do something! Turn him upside down and pat his back.”

  I had never seen a baby so tiny. He fit the span of Ittai’s large hand and wrist. Ittai turned him on the stomach and patted his back. Nothing. This can’t be happening. Oh, God, please don’t let me lose this baby.

  As a raw, primal howl of anguish collected in the back of my throat, Abigail and the midwife swarmed in. The midwife grabbed my baby by the feet and slapped his bottom with her fingers. No sound. She laid him on his back and pressed his chest.

  After many panicked heartbeats, a gurgling cough followed by a tiny whimpering cry swaddled my heart with relief. Black flitting stars circled my head, and I collapsed in a heap on the bed. The warm stickiness of the afterbirth passed between my legs. I held my hands for my baby, but Abigail wrapped him with a towel and held onto him. She asked Naomi to find a milk-nurse.

  The midwife massaged my womb and spoke to Abigail. “She’s still bleeding too much. Send for a doctor and a priest.”

  They looked around and stepped over Ittai. He had fainted.

  My body floated as if on a barley seed pillow. My head burned, and my mouth and throat scratched with dry sand. A dull pain suffused me from head to toe. Voices drifted between my dreams. Naomi sang, her song tinkled like the trail of a smoky caravan, the camel feet plodding, the bells on their harnesses jangling wearily, the scent of sulfurous tea spiraling up.

  * * *

  Time passed slowly in the white desert. Alone, in the shifting dunes, I padded on feet of wool. My neck ached, and my head bloated to the size of a mill stone. A thudding noise pounded my aching joints, my bruised womb throbbed and clamped, and fire seeped like anointing oil through every pore of my body.

  Abigail’s voice flitted like the wings of a butterfly. “David, you’re here. You must pray for her.”

  “How’s the baby? Where is he?”

  “He’s very small. I’m sure he’s yours.”

  “How can you be sure? Nine months ago she was still at Mahanaim.”

  The moving of furniture and shuffling of feet followed.