Michal's Window

by Ayala, Rachelle

  I stood against his chest, refusing to back down. “Unless I hear from the king himself, I will not let you touch my sons.”

  He pushed past me and gestured to his men. “Take them by force. You may question the king when he returns.”

  Arik held me against the wall while his men marched into my sons’ rooms, roused them, and dragged them to the door.

  Confused faces streamed past me. “Eemah, Ee-mah!” Their cries rent the air until cut off by heavy gags. They were herded out of the house and thrown onto horses.

  I struggled to shout, but Arik clamped a big hand over my mouth until the hoof beats had receded in the distance.

  He loosened his grip and bent over me. “It is better this way, my lady. They will be safe in Mahanaim. They will be with their father.”

  I grabbed him. “Let me go with them. Please.”

  He pried me loose. “The king says you are to stay here.”

  Sobs racked my chest, and I clawed at the floor. “Where’s Ittai? Does he know?”

  “He knows.”

  “Why isn’t he here? He wouldn’t have let you take them. He wouldn’t have.”

  “He is in prison awaiting execution.”

  I lifted my head. “Prison? What has he done?”

  “It might not matter, he may die before trial. Good night, my lady.” Arik shut the door.

  * * *

  The LORD had utterly defeated the Philistines. With their best troops frozen and slaughtered, the Philistine villages and towns were defenseless. Thousands of Israelites joined in the massacre and pillaging that followed. Entire villages were razed, large amounts of loot taken, and war captives, both male and female, were taken as slaves.

  The victory celebrations lasted through the dark hours of the night into the next day. David returned to Jerusalem in high spirits. Large crowds turned out to welcome him. Women danced in the streets with tabrets and bells. “David has slain ten thousands. David has slain ten thousands.”

  David visited the jewelry merchants to buy presents for his wives. Vendors swarmed around him with their wares. His servants grabbed handfuls of necklaces, bracelets and hair combs. David wandered the stalls and came across a carved jade box. It consisted of two pieces of solid jade, mated to fit together. A carved dragon swirled around a phoenix whose tail curled behind the dragons legs, entwined in a loving, yet ferocious standoff, snout to beak. Alive and tense.

  The merchant bowed. “Honored King, take this box and bestow it on your queen. The dragon and phoenix symbolize marriage unity between a king and a queen. It is yours.”

  David stared at the box; his heart ached and twisted to the point of bursting. Marriage unity, one man and one woman. How had it gone so wrong? Flustered, he shoved some gold coins at the merchant who refused. “It is an honor for my treasure to be bestowed by my king for the elegant Queen Michal.”

  Leaving the gold on the table, David pocketed the box. His head servant paid for the rest of the jewelry. Joab and Abishai sauntered over, sardonic grins pasted on their faces.

  “Uncle, buying presents for your many wives?” Joab laughed.

  “We don’t have that pleasure, now do we?” Abishai punched his brother’s shoulder.

  David wasn’t in the mood for joking. He mounted his horse and headed for the palace. Once he entered his bedchamber, he took the box out of his pocket and set it on the table where Michal’s two other boxes would have been.

  Arik knocked on the door. “O King, the sons of Saul have been secured.”

  “How is she?” David’s voice choked more than he wished.

  “She is well.” Arik bowed and retreated.

  David bathed without the help of a maid servant and put on a common cloak to shield his face. His heart beating at a furious pace and his nerves tight in his stomach, he sneaked out of the palace by a back gate and headed for Michal’s house.

  She opened the door and started to close it, but he lodged his shoulder between the door and its frame and stepped in. Her eyes were red and swollen.

  “Eglah.” He expected an onslaught of bitter words, but her jaw shook silently, and she ran for her room.

  Pain pummeled his ribs, and his heart wrenched lower. He caught her and hugged her. “I wanted to tell you myself, but I had to fight the Philistines.”

  She shook silently in his arms. He laid her down on her couch and dipped a cloth into water. Although the evening was warm, she shivered, and her eyes were unfocused, dull and lifeless. David wiped her face and pulled back her hair. “Your sons will be safe with Phaltiel. I’ve increased their guards to fifty men, Philistine mercenaries.”

  She closed her eyes, seeming somewhat settled. Gently he wiped the dirt and ashes from her face and flicked them off her robe. He asked Naomi to draw water.

  Stepping over a large rolled up rug, David placed the jade box on her table next to her two other boxes. He picked up an ebony comb and went to Michal’s side. She lay on the couch with her eyes closed, breathing hard, an occasional lingering sob tightening her chest with a wheeze.

  “I had to protect your sons,” he said. Her silence filled him with foreboding, as if she stored her anger and bitterness for a giant blast, much like a whirlwind’s final gust.

  Naomi filled the bathtub, and he carried Michal to the bathroom. She offered no resistance. She allowed him to peel off her clothes and place her into the tub. She allowed him to wash her and comb her hair. He did all his motions, slowly, gently, almost reverently. And when he finished, she allowed him to tuck her into bed. He took off his robe and climbed in. He couldn’t leave her alone to suffer, to mourn. He held her and closed his eyes.

  When David woke the next morning, Michal was already awake. Her eyes froze his attempted smile. Emotionless as solid malachite, they stared at him.

  He leaned to kiss her but met her palm.

  She backed away. “Why did you take my sons? And what have you done to Ittai?”

  David raked his hair. “I will find you another guard. Probably Arik.”

  Her chest fluttered and color rushed to her face. “Arik tells me Ittai is in prison and might die.”

  He tucked in his tunic and tightened the sash of his robe. “He’ll live. Why do you care?”

  The tone in her voice changed to pleading. “He’s a friend, and if he’s hurt, I want to see him.”

  He turned to leave. “I cannot allow it.”

  “David, please. I beg you.” She grabbed his arm. “If you even care for me a tiny bit, please release him. He couldn’t possibly have done anything.”

  An irrational ache seized his heart. He loves you, that’s a crime enough. “I’ll send him to Mahanaim to guard your sons. Now stop worrying about him.”

  “But, how did he get hurt? How serious is it?”

  His gut wrenched. Concern was written across her face. Would she worry about him as much if he were hurt?

  “The doctor says he’ll live.”

  She covered her mouth and trembled. “You… you did it? You tried to kill him?”

  David’s pulse swished in a haze of red behind his eyelids. He clenched his jaw and dug his thumb and fingers into her shoulder. “I fought him in the training ground.”

  Her lips twisted with a snarl. “Go away. How could you? Ittai didn’t do anything wrong.”

  David punched the wall next to her head. “Am I not enough for you? Does my love mean nothing?”

  Michal’s glare sharpened like daggers. “If this is being loved by you, I wonder what it’s like to be hated.”

  “Do you know who you’re dealing with? I’m the king. I come here and show you favor, and you repay me with disdain? It’s always the same. You never change.” He turned toward the door and pointed a finger at her. “Arik will be your guard. I’ll not be responsible for your safety if you disobey him.”

  Michal picked up the jade box and threw it.

  It hit his forehead. He fell and knocked the back of his head on the edge of the table. He sunk into a pained darkness.
/>   When David opened his eyes, Michal and Naomi were staring at him with fear etched on their faces. He groaned and his head throbbed. He tried to stand, and the floor rolled.

  Michal grasped his elbow. “I could have killed you. Let me help you.”

  David crawled on her bed and hung his head between his knees, a clump of nausea churning in his stomach. Naomi discreetly retreated.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She touched the lump on his temple. “Why do I always do the wrong thing?”

  David waited for the floor to stop spinning. Her hands felt good on him as she rubbed his back. His mind wandered. The young princess looked up from behind her fascinating hair, multi-colored like wild burled rosewood. She held his harp in her lap, and his heart in her hands. He bent her head back and kissed her softly, tenderly.

  He opened his eyes. “Do you still want me?”

  “I…” She stopped and bit her lips. “No. Not anymore. You’re no good for me. You’ve been hurting me since the first day I met you. Always hot and cold.”

  “Am I that bad?”

  “You make me most miserable.” A scowl blanketed her face.

  David stroked her cheek and kissed her, opening her lips with his tongue. “Do I make you miserable now?”

  She sighed and squirmed while he rubbed his beard over the hollow of her neck. “How about when I do this?”

  Her breath hitched, but she did not stop him.

  He twirled his thumb over her breast. “And this? Does this make you feel miserable?”

  A moan escaped her, and she pushed out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me. Do you think that’s all I want?”

  David stopped, not used to being refused. He stood and pulled his robe together. “I have to go. Is there anything else you need?”

  “Yes, let me go to Mahanaim with my children. They’re the only reason for me to live.”

  David clenched his teeth. What would the people say if he lost his wife to Phaltiel? He took a deep breath. “No. I need you here, near me. They’ll be safe, I promise.”

  “I don’t want to see you again,” she said through gritted teeth. “Leave me alone to trust God and find peace with Him.”

  “But…” He would never divorce her, nor allow her to live away from him. He bit the insides of his cheeks, swallowing the bitter pang of loss. If she didn’t want him, then he didn’t want her either. She could rot in this dingy house for all he cared.

  He picked the jade box from the floor and pressed it into her hand. “Remember me.”

  One corner on the lid had chipped off, right over the head of the dragon.

  “How could I ever forget?” Her voice turned to ice and chilled his blood.

  David stared at her for several moments. His throat swelled, and he choked, unable to get any words out. Why did she have to look so glorious, almost shining, her face serene like still waters, her eyes glittering gemstones, her mouth, a perfect rose. Why did she have to be the daughter of Saul? And why had everything he dreamed of gone so wrong?

  Her hand slipped from his grasp and dropped to her side. “Goodbye, David.”

  David could not speak. He went to the door without looking back. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to, and he didn’t.

  It was over, no song, no dream, only pain.

  Chapter 33

  Job 30:15 Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.

  >>><<<

  “Come Naomi, let me show you something.” I led her down a narrow alley through streets filled with foreigners. David brought in mercenaries, legions of Gittites, Cherethites, and Pelethites, all Philistine. He also numbered among his friends, Ammonites, Gibeonites, Jebusites and Hittites. All these people brought their families to Jerusalem.

  We stopped in front of a white-washed mud-brick home, sheltered by a myrtle tree, its sweet fragrance welcoming. “A priestess of Asherah lives here. You remember Jada, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Jada was ever so kind to us and took care of all our problems.”

  Before I could knock, Jada stepped out and invited us in. “Michal, my dear, how have you been?”

  I bounced on my toes and hugged her. “I’ve been great. How about you? Where did you go after we left each other?”

  “Oh, I went to a cave where my mother had stayed before the Prophet Samuel drove her away.”

  She raised her voice. “Zina, come out and say hello to my friends.”

  A pretty girl around ten years old stepped toward us. She bowed. “I’m Zina. Are you a real princess?”

  “Yes, I was the daughter of King Saul, but that was a long time ago. Now, I’m sort of a free spirit.”

  I stared at Zina as if looking into a mirror of my younger self. She had my olive-toned skin, my straight nose, and hair that waved like curls of strikingly grained mahogany. But her eyes were amber, and she had twin dimples when she smiled.

  “Whose daughter are you?” I asked.

  She shrugged and looked at Jada sideways. “Ask Mother.”

  Jada put a hand on her hip and shook her head.

  I slid a look at Jada. “Perhaps he’s a king, or a prince, or a hero?”

  She laughed and shooed Zina to the kitchen.

  We sat at the table while Zina placed some dried fruit, vegetables, and bread in front of us.

  “So, what brings you here today?” Jada patted my hand. “I was under the impression David kept his wives under lock and key.”

  “Well, apparently he let me out of the cage.”

  Her brow arched in a frown. “Did he tire of you, my dear?”

  “Oh, no. He’ll never tire of me. But he has decreed that I’m to be removed as queen. Apparently I angered him the night he brought the Ark of the Covenant to town.”

  “Ah yes, I remember that parade.” Jada picked at a pomegranate. “All the yelling and jeering, the chanting and noise. It was enough to embarrass the gods. Dagon would never have put up with it.”

  “You wouldn’t have recalled seeing David?”

  She tilted head. “No, I’m not sure I saw him. There were quite a few maidservants dancing after the Ark, and a whole lot of priests making sacrifices, bloodying the streets.”

  I shuddered at the memory of the lowing and squealing of the sacrificial animals.

  Her eyes lit. “Ah, one of them made a big commotion. A handsome one with flaming red-brown hair, I thought he had too much to drink.” She laughed melodiously.

  “That was David.”

  Her mouth pursed into a tiny circle, and she placed her hand on my shoulder. “So what’s troubling you? I know you too well, my dear.”

  I pressed my lips into a smug smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  * * *

  I waited patiently for the LORD; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.

  With Abigail standing at my side, I unrolled David’s prayer book and smoothed it on the table.

  He brought me up also out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

  Abigail held one side of the scroll. “David asked if you could make copies. He has many scribes, but he would like you to make his personal copy and one for each of his sons.”

  I set a stone on the corner of the scroll and wiped my hands on my robe. “So this job is in place of raising my children? Does he think to ease my imprisonment with busy work?”

  Abigail blinked. “He can explain if you’d let him.”

  My heart squeezed and closed. “There’s nothing for him to say. He’s destroyed me already.”

  “What message should I deliver to him?”

  I clenched and unclenched the sleeve of my robe. The bitterness at the edge of my heart crawled to my throat. “It’s useless. Thank you for your help, Abi. Will you come back on the Sabbath?”

  “I will. David’s going to war again, so we can stay out later.” She kissed me on both cheeks and departed with her servant. Her vanilla fragrance lingered wistfu
lly.

  The throb of loneliness returned as soon as the door closed. I yearned to visit my children, but David disallowed it during wartime. And these days, we were continually at war. David’s campaign of reconquering the land God promised to Abraham kept him away from Jerusalem—which was just as well, since I had no desire whatsoever to see him.

  And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God.

  Beautiful words. But how hateful he’d been to me. A dark grey mist blurred my mind, and tears welled in my eyes. I idly unrolled his scroll and perused his unruly script.

  For the enemy hath persecuted my soul; he hath smitten my life down to the ground; he hath made me to dwell in darkness, as those that have been long dead.

  David, are you my enemy? How could you be the man after God’s heart and hate me so? My father had persecuted you. Maybe that’s why.

  Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; my heart within me is desolate.

  Desolate. An abandoned, desolate woman. Oh, David. You’ve left me so alone.

  Cause me to hear thy loving-kindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust.

  My lips trembled. Loving-kindness. I wrote the words from David’s heart and memorized them as they flowed onto the parchment.

  Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.

  If I couldn’t have David’s presence, at least I had his prayers at my right hand.

  * * *

  Seven years passed. David had tucked Michal into a secure corner of his heart. Every morning he made a vow to not think about her. He stayed away from Jerusalem by going on campaigns. He subjugated the Moabites, contained the Philistines, and pushed the Syrians all the way to the Euphrates. He plundered the King of Zobah and stripped him of his golden shields. He put garrisons from Damascus to the Gulf of Aqaba. He subdued the Ammonites, Edomites, and Amalekites, and completed everything Michal’s father failed to do in God’s sight.

  David returned to Jerusalem with a burning desire to build a temple for the LORD. He sought Abigail, his third wife. She updated him on the collection of building materials and the preparation of the songbooks. After a long and enjoyable evening of reviewing plans and outlining worship services, he relaxed on her bed.