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Authors: Marek Halter

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BOOK: Mary of Nazareth
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“No one. That's how it is.”

“If it's Barabbas, tell me.”

“No, Father. It isn't Barabbas, either.”

“If he took you by force and doesn't dare admit it, I'll kill him with my own hands, Barabbas or no Barabbas.”

“Listen to me. It wasn't Barabbas, it wasn't anyone.”

Joachim finally grasped what Miriam was saying, and her words chilled him. He let out a little groan, and for the first time looked at his daughter as if she were a stranger.

“You're lying.”

“Why should I lie? We'll see this child born. We'll see him grow up. We'll see him become king of Israel.”

“What are you talking about? That's not possible.”

“Yes. It's possible. Because it's what I've wanted more than anything. Because I asked Yahweh, blessed be his name forever.”

Again, Joachim closed his eyes. His hands were shaking. He touched his chest, then rubbed his face as if in doing so he could wipe away the words Miriam had spoken.

“It isn't possible,” he said. “It's blasphemy. You're mad. Zechariah's angel is one thing, but this, no.”

“But it is possible. You'll see.”

His eyes still closed, Joachim shook his head vehemently.

“Why make yourself suffer when this is such good news?” Miriam asked, as calm as ever. “Isn't it something we all know—you and I, and Joseph of Arimathea, and a few others? It isn't death or hate that changes the face of the world. It's the life of men. The only things that will bring down Herod are life and love. The very things the Romans and the tyrants belittle.”

Joachim waved his arms vigorously as if trying to dismiss Miriam's words the way a man chases away troublesome flies. “This is not about Herod and Israel!” he cried. “This is about my daughter, who's been defiled! Don't tell me it's good news.”

“Father, I haven't been defiled. Believe me.”

He looked at her now as if she were his enemy.

Miriam knelt before him and took his hands in hers. “Father, please try to understand. What can a woman do to free Israel from the Roman yoke, except give birth to its liberator? Remember the meeting Barabbas called to decide on the best time to start a rebellion? Even then, I talked about the Liberator. The man who will know no other authority than that of Yahweh, the Master of the Universe. The man who will revive his word and establish his law.

“I've thought a lot about it since then, Father. I've seen prophets. All men tarnished by blood and lies. There wasn't a single one among them who talked about love. Yet our holy Torah says,
Love your neighbor as yourself.

“All of you think women are only there to give birth. Give birth to submissive men or rebellious men. But what if one of them gave birth to the man we have all been waiting for all these years—all of us, you and I and all the people of Israel?

“To give birth to the Liberator. No one ever thought of that. But I did. And it's what I'm going to do. I told you it would be like this. So why worry, why torture yourself, why ask all these questions?”

Joachim's lips moved, tears clinging to his beard. “What have I done for the Almighty to keep striking me down?” he moaned. “What have I done that's so unforgivable?”

He looked down at Miriam's hands holding his and grimaced, as if at the sight of some disgusting animal. He pulled his hands free and got unsteadily to his feet, making a huge effort not to scream out the words crowding into his mouth.

         

I
T
took him half the day to gather his courage and go to confront Yossef. He looked closely at his friend's face, determined to study his reactions as he questioned him.

“Did you take my daughter?”

Yossef looked at him dumfounded, as if he had no idea what Joachim was talking about. “Your daughter?”

“I have only one. Miriam.”

“What are you asking me, Joachim?”

“You know what I'm asking. Miriam says she is with child. She also says no man has touched her.”

Yossef was speechless.

“It's impossible, of course,” Joachim growled. “She's either mad or lying. Which it is depends on your answer.”

Yossef did not seem to be angered by Joachim's insistence. But what his face expressed was a lot worse: the immense sadness and pain of a man betrayed by his friend's mistrust.

“If I wanted to take Miriam as my wife, I wouldn't have to hide. I'd come straight to you and ask your blessing.”

“I'm not talking about taking her as a wife. I'm talking about sleeping with her and making a child.”

“Joachim—”

“Damn it, Yossef! You're not saying the words I'm waiting for! I'm her father. You just have to say yes or no.”

Yossef's face grew harder suddenly. His cheeks and temples turned gaunt, and his mouth narrowed. Joachim had never seen him like this before.

Yossef's hostile attitude shook Joachim. For a moment, he turned his eyes away. Then he asked, “So, do
you
believe she's pregnant?”

“If she says she is, I believe her. I believe what Miriam says and I always will, for as long as I live.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Yossef said, withdrawing into an attitude of wounded pride.

Joachim passed his gnarled fingers over his face. “I don't!” he moaned. “I don't know! I don't know anything anymore.”

Yossef did nothing to help him, but turned his back on him and busied himself tidying the tools left lying on the workbench.

Joachim walked up to him and seized him by the shoulder. “Don't be angry at me, Yossef. I had to ask you.”

Yossef turned and looked him up and down with an expression that seemed to say that instead of asking, he should have trusted him.

“Yossef, Yossef!” Joachim cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. He put his arms around his friend. “Yossef, you're like a son to me. Everything I have now, I owe to you. If you wanted Miriam, I would give her to you in preference to Barabbas….”

He broke off with a moan, moved away from Yossef, and looked at him. Yossef looked back, stone-faced.

“But now that she's pregnant,” Joachim said, “that's not possible anymore, is it? For either of us.”

“Listen to what your daughter is saying. Listen to her, instead of always suspecting her, which you've been doing ever since she came back.”

It might have been Yossef's tone or his words, but Joachim's suspicions suddenly returned. “You're hiding something.”

Yossef shrugged and was about to turn away, but he forced himself to sustain the look Joachim gave him through narrowed eyes. He blushed, as he often did at emotional moments. “I have nothing more to add. But I love Miriam, and I will do whatever she asks.”

         

A
FTER
Miriam had announced her condition to them, Ruth wandered through the house, distraught, unable even to look after the children, who chose to go and play far from the cries and the joyless faces.

“Stop walking around and around like that,” Mariamne finally muttered. “It's annoying.”

Obediently, Ruth sat down, and stared into the distance.

“Come on,” Mariamne grumbled. “Tell me what's on your mind.”

“I said it. I said it would happen.”

“What's ‘it'?”

Ruth merely pouted in reply.

But Mariamne stood over her, eyes flashing. “I'll tell you what ‘it' isn't,” she said. “It isn't what's happening to Miriam! Don't you understand?”

“We know what's happening to her.”

“Lord God Almighty! How stupid they all are! They don't want to hear! And you claim to be her loyal friend. It's disgraceful!”

“I
am
loyal to her. Just as loyal as you. Have you heard me utter a word of reproach? All I'm saying is that instead of admiring her, people are going to be pointing the finger at her. Am I supposed to rejoice?”

“Yes, precisely! You should forget your sorrow and rejoice at the good news.”

“Stop saying it's good news!”

“Listen to what Miriam keeps saying. Not a man has touched her.”

“Don't talk nonsense! I'm old enough, experienced enough, to know how a woman becomes pregnant. Why did she come out with that ridiculous story, that's what I keep wondering.”

“If you loved her, you wouldn't wonder!” Mariamne cried, striking her own thigh in anger. “All you have to do is believe her. The son of light is coming, he is in her belly, and she is still pure.”

“I can't believe her,” Ruth said, also angry now. “I heard all sorts of crazy notions in Beth Zabdai. But the idea that a woman can make a child without opening her thighs and taking a man inside her—that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard in my life!”

“If that's the case, you don't deserve to stay with her.”

         

T
HAT
evening, Elisheba announced, in tears, “Zechariah has decided to stop speaking. He's so ashamed, he won't utter another word in this house.”

“Then let him take his shame elsewhere!” Mariamne cried. And in response to the mournful looks that Elisheba and Ruth gave her, she pointed her finger at Elisheba's belly and added cruelly, “You've been telling everyone an angel came and announced to your Zechariah that he'd be a man again, even though a puff of wind could knock him over. And here you are, with child, even though you haven't given birth for more than twenty years! Why is that less of a miracle than what happened to Miriam?”

Unexpectedly, Elisheba nodded, although her tears still flowed. “Yes, I'd like to believe that. But Zechariah…Zechariah is a man. And a priest. And he's just as skeptical as Joachim….”

The three women all fell silent, calmer now, and each lost in her own thoughts.

“Where is she?” Ruth breathed. “We haven't seen her since this morning.”

“We won't see her again,” Mariamne said, “as long as Joachim blames her for her condition every time she sets foot in the house.”

         

B
UT
Joachim would not budge.

When Barabbas came to see him, he asked him the same questions he had asked Yossef.

Barabbas's first reaction was to say sourly, “Why should I take a girl who won't have anything to do with me?”

“That's exactly what happens sometimes. Disappointment causes anger, and anger makes us lose our heads.”

“I haven't lost my head, and I've never been so short of women that I would lose it. The only fights I like are against the Romans and the mercenaries. What pleasure would I have in assaulting Miriam?”

Joachim knew he was telling the truth. The astonishment on his face said as much as his words.

Barabbas found the news just as hard to take as Joachim had. Both men wished they could wipe Miriam's words from their minds.

Suddenly, Barabbas said, “It's Yossef!”

“How do you know?”

“I feel it.”

“He swore to me it wasn't him.”

“What do you think that's worth? No one admits to something like that.”

“Miriam swears on her mother's head that it was neither him nor you.”

Barabbas dismissed Joachim's assurances with a gesture.

Joachim lowered his voice. “She also claims that no man has touched her. Why would she say such a thing?”

“She's ashamed, that's why. It's Yossef. I could see it coming. Halva's death stirred his blood, and he can't endure loneliness. He's been hovering around Miriam like a fly around an open fruit. He'd wash her feet with his tongue if he could.”

“So why has Yossef never asked me for Miriam's hand? He could have. I wouldn't have refused him, any more than I refused you.”

“He wants to, but he's afraid she'll refuse him. He's a sly one.”

“That's ridiculous!” Joachim protested. “It's your jealousy speaking!”

“I have eyes and a brain, and I see what I see,” Barabbas replied, unable to resign himself to being in such a powerless position, and blinded by what he could not understand. “When the child is born, you'll see I was right. It'll look like Yossef.”

He was so insistent that Joachim started to have his doubts.

“Put the two of them face-to-face, Miriam and him,” Barabbas said. “Then you'll see they're lying.”

         

S
O
it was that the next day Miriam appeared before them, as if before a court. Seven people had gathered in the main room, and were standing in front of the dining table: Joachim and Barabbas, Zechariah and Elisheba, Ruth, Mariamne, and Yossef.

Joachim had demanded her presence without even knowing where to find her. He had gone to the far end of the yard and had called out her name, without success. Mariamne had just declared that no one knew where she was, when young Yakov, the eldest of Yossef's children, had said, “I know where she is. We've been playing together all day. Right now, she's bathing in the river with Libna and Shimon.”

He rushed off, and came back hand in hand with Miriam. As soon as they saw her face, they all felt ill at ease.

Never had she looked so beautiful, never had her eyes been so clear and so serene. Her copper-colored hair had grown again as far down as the back of her neck, and a few untidy curls were strewn across her cheeks.

She kissed Yakov on the forehead and sent him back to join the other children. When she turned to them, she immediately understood what they wanted. She smiled at them. There was no trace of mockery in this smile, only tenderness.

There was tenderness too in the first words she spoke. “So you don't believe me.”

They would have lowered their eyes if Barabbas had not retorted, “Even a child wouldn't believe you.”

BOOK: Mary of Nazareth
4.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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