Till Shiloh Comes (2 page)

Since Reuben had not joined them this evening, Dan, a son of Bilhah, launched into the story of how Reuben had once again defended their half brother Joseph. Dan's eyes glared as he spoke vociferously and punched the air to make his points. “The pup was entirely improper, putting his hands on that young daughter of Eliza! When I tried to stop him, he gave me nothing but what he thought were clever answers. He needs a good whipping.”

Naphtali, the other son of Bilhah, was dipping a ladle into the stew that was bubbling on the fire. He was a lean, stoop-shouldered man and spoke softly. He tasted the stew, then shook his head and gave Dan a disdainful look. “You should have known better than to say anything to him. He never listens to any of us.”

“I would have thrashed him with my staff if Reuben hadn't come up and stopped me,” Dan grunted.

“If you had, he would have gone straight to Father like he always does,” said Levi, a short, muscular individual with dark eyes and a quick temper.

“I don't know why Reuben defends him,” added Simeon, the second oldest of the brothers. He was sitting with his arms locked around his knees, staring at the others. He was lean and quiet, and his close-set sharp eyes revealed a cruel streak. “After the Bilhah incident, you'd think he would hate him.”

“Sometimes,” Dan said, “I think Reuben's not very bright.”

“Oh, he's bright, all right,” Judah argued. “And you're lucky that he stopped you from beating Joseph. If Father had heard about it, he would have had you whipped raw.” Of all the brothers, Judah was the most insightful. He was a proud man but sensitive, quick to weep or laugh, and he knew his father well.

The brothers were still talking about Joseph when they were joined by Gad and Asher, the two sons of Zilpah. When they heard the story, they became incensed. “Joseph thinks he can get away with anything,” Gad grumbled.

Asher agreed. “I say Reuben's just too dumb to know that he lost his birthright because Joseph told Father about his affair with Bilhah.” A sturdy fellow with red, sinewy arms, Asher was forthright and honest as a rule, but, like the others, he was jealous of Joseph.

“It wasn't an affair,” Judah defended Reuben. “He was only with her once.”

“Once is enough!” Gad snapped. “It was a terrible thing to do.”

“Nobody knows that better than Reuben,” Judah said. He looked around and said quietly, “All of us had better learn one thing. Our two little brothers are the sons of the True Wife. Jacob loved Rachel better than any of our mothers. It's just something we have to live with.”

****

The brothers decided to talk to Leah about Joseph, so two of them went to her tent to ask her to join them for supper. While eating a bowl of stew, she patiently listened to Judah explain what had happened. She glanced around at their sullen faces and realized that her oldest son was not there. “Where's Reuben?” she demanded.

“I think he's gone off to check the sheep in the lower pasture,” Judah replied.

Simeon turned to his mother and said, “It's a shame the way Father favors Joseph over the rest of us.”

Leah agreed. She was still bitter over Jacob's preference for her sister, even though Rachel was gone now, having died giving birth to Benjamin. She stared out into the gathering darkness and shook her head. “It's always been that way. From the time Joseph was born, he was the favorite.”

“Couldn't you talk to him, Mother?” Levi pleaded. “I don't think Father understands how spoiled Joseph is.”

“He doesn't realize it, and he never will.”

“He favors those two sons of Rachel more than he should,” Judah remarked.

“Not so much Benjamin,” Simeon countered. “I think Father blames him for causing his mother's death.”

“You're right about that,” Leah said with a thoughtful nod.

Just then the two youngest of Leah's sons spoke up, having kept to themselves throughout this conversation. Issachar and Zebulun were the closest in age to Joseph. Together with their little sister, Dinah, they had often played with Joseph and Benjamin when they were growing up, and now they halfheartedly tried to defend the sons of Rachel.

Leah dismissed their efforts. “You're both fools if you think anything good is ever going to come to any of you except Joseph. All Jacob thinks about is his True Wife and her offspring.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “He never loved anyone but her, yet I bore him six sons and a daughter.”

“One of
us
ought to get the blessing from Father,” Levi insisted.

“Yes, and it should be the firstborn,” Zebulun said.

Simeon snapped, “But Reuben forfeited that when he slept with Bilhah! I'm the second-born. I should get the blessing!”

Judah faced Simeon and said, “You and Levi ruined your chances when you butchered the men of Shechem.”

Simeon stared at Judah fiercely. Both he and Levi were men of violent tempers, and when a young prince of Shechem had defiled their sister, Dinah, the two of them had taken revenge by setting a trap for the Shechemites and slaying all their men. They captured all the women and children and plundered their goods, bringing great trouble to their father among the people of the land. Levi knew that Judah was right, although Jacob had never actually said he would withdraw his blessing as a result. Levi was irritated and snapped, “I guess you think
you
should get the blessing, Judah!”

“No, I don't,” Judah said calmly. “And you can stop thinking about it. Father will see to it somehow that Joseph gets the blessing of the firstborn.”

Judah's words enraged all of the brothers. “It's not fair!” Simeon shouted. “It's just not fair!”

“Life isn't fair.” Judah shrugged. “Don't forget that our father stole his own blessing from his brother, Esau, with help from his mother. They tricked the old man. I love my father, but he's a crafty man. He knows how to get his own way, and you can depend on this: Joseph will get the birthright and rule over us all.”

There was grumbling and complaining about this until Leah finally snapped, “All of you hush and eat!”

Judah drew close to his mother and said quietly, “Why do they have to quarrel like that?”

Leah looked surprised. “Don't
you
resent that Jacob loves Joseph best?”

“I have to live with it. We all do. I find the best way is just to ignore it.”

Leah's red-rimmed eyes flared. “I will never ignore it, and neither will your brothers—and neither should
you
!”

Early one morning Joseph said to his little brother, “Naphtali told me that a caravan of traders has stopped at a village north of here. Let's go buy ourselves some fine presents.”

Benjamin was delighted at the prospect of a day with his big brother but asked a little anxiously, “Will Father let us go?”

“Oh, we don't need to bother asking him,” Joseph replied with a shrug. “We'll just bring him a present too.”

“But he might not like it if we go without telling.”

Joseph laughed at the boy and tousled his hair. “Don't worry. I'll make him think the trip was his idea.”

Soon the brothers were well on their way, and the sun was reaching its zenith as they walked along the rough pathway. From time to time Joseph would smile down at his younger brother, for there was no one on earth he loved more. He and Benjamin were all that were left of their mother. Since she had died at Benjamin's birth, Joseph often talked to his little brother about her, sharing all the details he could remember. The younger boy loved to hear the stories over and over.

Benjamin was a chubby-cheeked eight-year-old with a sunny disposition. He had unusual smoky gray eyes, and thick, shiny auburn hair, which was molded to his head like a metal helmet. He walked along happily clinging to Joseph's hand, wearing a short-sleeved, knee-length garment of rust red with a blue embroidered hem.

Although Benjamin was usually cheerful and friendly, at times a painful sadness would overtake him. The child bore the weight of his mother's death like a tragic burden, knowing intuitively that his father, Jacob, somehow blamed him for it. His father would often act in a reserved manner toward Benjamin, not meeting his gaze; yet at other times he would hold him tightly and tell him tales of his mother. The confusing alienation Benjamin felt with his father had brought him closer to his big brother Joseph, whom he idolized completely.

As the pair walked hand in hand past an olive orchard that clung precariously to a steep hillside, Benjamin looked up and saw the Sons of the Maids picking olives and putting them in baskets. He did not call to them, for he knew that these four older brothers did not much like him or his brother Joseph.

Joseph had been whistling one of Benjamin's favorite tunes, but he stopped as they passed the orchard and went on in silence. Once they were out of earshot of their unfriendly half brothers, Joseph looked down and asked, “Are you tired?”

“No, not even a little.”

“Are you sure this isn't too long a trip for your short legs?”

“No,” Benjamin said with a quick smile. “I promise I won't be a burden to you.”

“All right. But if you get tired, tell me and I'll carry you.”

Benjamin merely shook his head and smiled up brilliantly at Joseph.

“Please tell me a story, Joseph,” Benjamin begged. “The one about Noah and the animals.” Joseph had an endless supply of stories—either ones he made up or stories of their ancestors. The story of Noah was one of Benjamin's favorites, and now as they strolled northward, Joseph told the story of their ancient ancestor who had gathered two each of all the animals of the world and put them on a huge boat to save them from the flood.

After two hours of walking and several stories later, Joseph insisted they sit down to rest at a tiny spring. He slung a leather bag off his shoulder and opened it, pulling out two chunks of bread and strips of dried mutton for their lunch, which they ate along with sips of water from a flask. There were also succulent dates, and Joseph made Benjamin open his mouth and stand away while he tossed them in. Benjamin managed to catch most of them, and even those that fell to the ground he retrieved and ate anyway, brushing off the dust first.

As they rested Benjamin asked, “Joseph, why do the Sons of the Maids and the sons of Leah dislike us so much?”

Joseph was surprised. “I think you know the answer to that one.”

“But I try to be as nice to them as I can.”

“You can never be nice enough to make them like you, Benji. They're jealous of us because we're the sons of the True Wife.”

The little boy knew this well but could not understand it. “We all have the same father.”

“Yes, but not the same mother. Our father loved our mother more than anything in this world. You've heard him say so himself.”

“Doesn't he love Leah and Bilhah and Zilpah at all?”

“Yes, he is fond of them, but he does not love them like he loved his True Wife. Haven't you ever heard how our father worked for his uncle Laban for seven years to get Rachel for his wife, then on the wedding day he was tricked into marrying his older daughter, Leah, because they hid her face with a veil to deceive our father?”

“That was a wicked thing to do, wasn't it?”

“Very wicked.”

“But Father did marry Leah.”

“Yes, but he never loved her like he did our mother.” Joseph regarded Benjamin curiously. “Haven't you noticed how much better looking we are than any of our brothers?”

“No. Are we?”

“You foolish boy! Just look at yourself sometime—see your reflection in the water or in that bronze mirror Leah has. Then look at those red-eyed sons of Leah and the rough Sons of the Maids. Then look at you. What a beautiful, handsome boy you are!”

“And you too, Joseph. You're the best looking of all of our father's sons.”

“Oh, I don't know about that.” Joseph shrugged modestly, though in fact he could not deny Benjamin's statement. “And we're smarter than they are too,” he went on. “They know this and it makes them dislike us.”

Benjamin struggled with this for a time, then said, “Father is unhappy with me because my mother died giving me life.”

Tears sprang to Joseph's eyes and his heart swelled, knowing that his brother spoke the truth. He bent down beside the boy and put his arms around him, holding him to his breast. “I love you enough to make up for our father and all of our half brothers.”

“Do you really, Joseph?”

“Never doubt it, Benjamin. You and I are all that's left of our mother, and no matter whether the earth stands or falls or if the sun stays in heaven, you and I are brothers. True brothers.”

Joseph saw the tears in Benjamin's eyes and jumped to change the subject. “You've got to stop asking so many questions or I'll have to put a bug in your mouth.”

“No, don't do that!” Benjamin said, but he only laughed because he knew Joseph would never do any such wicked thing. “Tell me more about the dream you had last night.”

“Well, like I said, it was quite beautiful….”

****

Jacob limped back and forth in front of his tent, his infirmity not so much a matter of age as a result of his encounter with an angel years earlier on the way back from Laban's country. They had wrestled all night, and he had received a new name—Israel. It was a name he and others in the tribe spoke with great pride because it meant “prince of God,” whereas the name Jacob had the rather unsavory meanings of “deceiver” or “usurper.” Nonetheless, he was usually called by his given name on an everyday basis.

The head of the tribe wore a cotton garment woven with narrow pale-colored stripes. He was of medium height and stooped with age. His beard joined with the hair on his temples and fell from his cheeks to his breast in sparse strands. His eyes were still sharp, with pouches of soft skin beneath them, but his face was etched with worry. He finally stepped inside the tent where Leah was busy with the evening meal. “I'm worried about Joseph and Benjamin.”