On This Foundation (21 page)

J
ERUSALEM

A
ll of her father's pleas and demands couldn't change Chana's mind. Tired as she was from her day's labors, she continued to argue with Abba as they sat eating their evening meal, determined to return to the wall tomorrow. “We're doing real work, Abba, you know we are. And we're good at what we do. The other laborers are used to having us work alongside them. They've accepted us and are grateful for our help. You can't tell us to stop now, just because Nehemiah has a problem with it.”

“He's the governor, Chana. Our leader. We need to respect the leaders God has given us.”

“Even when they're wrong? Where does it say in the Torah that women can't build a wall? Nowhere! This is just his own ridiculous bias. Why won't you explain to him that he's wrong?”

“Chana, I think we all need time for our tempers to cool. Tomorrow is preparation day for the Sabbath, and I think it would be better if you girls stayed home and cooked our meal. Work on the wall will stop early tomorrow to give the men time to return home to their families. And you'll need to prepare extra portions to feed any of our workers who live too far away to go home.”

“And after the Sabbath ends? What then?” Chana asked.

“We'll talk about it when the time comes and not before.”

She agreed to stay home and help prepare the Sabbath meal with her sisters and the new servants they'd hired. “But I'm going back after the Sabbath,” she told Yudit and Sarah the next morning as she shoveled ash from the hearth to begin cooking. The fine dust turned her hands gray. “I'm not giving up my work on the wall!”

“I love working, too,” Yudit said as she ground grain into flour with her hand mill. “But I don't want to make Abba angry. I don't like fighting with him.”

“I don't either,” Sarah said. She had already been to the King's Pool and back, carrying the heavy jar of water uphill so they could cook. “We can still help out by feeding Abba's workers. That's a huge contribution, isn't it?”

“Of course. But the new servants can easily do that. You loved building the wall as much as I did, didn't you? We shouldn't have to quit.” Chana broke a handful of twigs into pieces and laid them on the warm coals, then blew on them to start the fire. “Nehemiah is a bully, throwing his weight around and coercing Abba to give in. The governor shouldn't have that much power. We're not breaking any laws by working. I'm not quitting until he shows me a law that says I have to.”

Later that morning, Chana had just finished baking all the bread they would need for the Sabbath when a messenger arrived from Malkijah's house. “My lord asks that you please join him for Sabbath dinner this evening in his Jerusalem home,” he told Chana.

“All four of us?” she asked. Their meal preparations were well underway, and she wondered what they would do with all the fish they had purchased in the marketplace.

“Master Malkijah very kindly asks that you come alone this time, miss.”

Chana didn't know what to say. Sarah nudged her with her elbow. “Tell him of course you'll come, silly.”

“Abba must have told Malkijah that you've agreed to a betrothal,” Yudit added.

“Did I agree?” Chana asked. She was still so angry about being ordered around by the governor that she barely remembered.

“Yes, when you were trying to convince Abba to let us work on the wall,” Yudit said. “How could you have forgotten?”

The messenger waited for her reply. Chana drew a steadying breath. “Please tell Malkijah that I will be happy to dine with him tonight.”

“Very well. I will return before sundown to escort you to his house, miss.”

The day's preparations helped Chana take her mind off the wall and the governor's unreasonable demands for a while, and she was in a good mood that evening when the servant arrived to escort her up the hill to Malkijah's Jerusalem home. But he lived close to the governor's residence, and Chana's anger boiled up all over again as she walked past it. Had the governor enlisted Malkijah's help in convincing her to give up her work? The thought infuriated her.

Just in time she remembered that she was Malkijah's guest. She needed to set aside her anger and be gracious to her host, who stood waiting at the door to greet her. “Chana! Welcome to my home away from home. I'm so pleased that you could join me tonight.”

Most of the houses in Jerusalem had been rebuilt quickly by the returning exiles, with little thought to making them beautiful. But Malkijah's house was an exception, tastefully and expertly built. It might be small, but it was as luxurious as his country estate. The interior walls were paneled with cedar, not merely plastered. The stone floors had been laid in pleasing designs and covered with expensive imported rugs. Malkijah
had a staff of servants to wait on him, and Chana recognized some of them from his estate in Beth Hakkerem, including the young girl named Nava.

“It's nearly sunset,” Malkijah said, breaking into her thoughts. “Will you do me the honor, Chana, of lighting the Sabbath lights?” She did, reciting the blessing and thanking God for the command to rest on the Sabbath. When she and Malkijah sat down at his lavishly spread table, she was surprised to discover that she was his only guest. Malkijah held up the two loaves of bread and recited the blessing, then did the same for the wine. By the time he finished and they started eating the first course, Chana could no longer keep quiet.

“May I ask you a question, Malkijah?”

“Of course.” His smile was so warm and genuine, she hated herself for suspecting him of conspiring with the governor. But she had to know.

“Are you aware that my sisters and I have been helping Abba rebuild his section of the wall?”

He grinned, his ebony eyes sparkling in the lamplight. “Yes, all of Jerusalem is talking about it.”

“What are they saying?”

He took a sip of wine and set down his cup. “Opinions vary. Most people think it's outrageous. A few admire you for being so strong and patriotic, and they compare you to Queen Esther.”

“Of which opinion are you?”

“Both. I agree that your actions are outrageous and probably very dangerous. I was so concerned for your safety when I first heard that you were scaling ladders and climbing scaffolding that I nearly went there myself to ask you to stop. Then I realized that your father would be just as concerned for your safety and would never put you or your sisters in danger. What bothers me the most is that people are gossiping about you, thinking ill of you, when they don't know you or your motives for helping.”

“Our new governor is among them.”

“So I've heard. On the other hand, you have spirit, Chana, and I like that. I would be bored with a wife who never tried anything new or was too frightened to leave the house or had no opinions of her own.”

“Then you and Governor Nehemiah are certainly very different. I'm glad you don't feel threatened by my ‘outrageous' actions and strong opinions. And thank you for having the courage to invite me here even though the entire city is gossiping about me.”

“I didn't invite you here tonight to talk about your work on the wall, Chana.” He looked away for a moment, as if suddenly shy, the bump on his crooked nose more noticeable in profile. “Your father told me that you have agreed to marry me.”

Her sister Yudit had been right. Abba had kept his side of the bargain allowing her to work, and now she would have to keep hers. Chana suddenly felt shy, as well. “Yes. I have agreed.”

“I'm very pleased to hear that,” he said with a broad grin. “I promise to make your happiness among my highest goals in life.”

“I hope I can make you happy, too.”

“You already did by saying yes. Now, what I hoped we could settle tonight is a date when your father and I can sign a ketubah. And that we can also decide when the wedding will be. There's no point in a long waiting period between the two occasions, is there? I already have a home prepared for you.”

A sudden memory brought a rush of grief: Yitzhak had been killed while preparing a home for her. She looked away from Malkijah, staring down at her hands, scratched and blistered from her work. “No, there's no point . . . But I would like to finish building the wall before we're married.”

“If you would allow me to, I'll send a dozen servants to take your place and build it for you. But I have a feeling you wouldn't like that.”

“You're right. I wouldn't.”

He gave a crooked grin. “May I send just a few servants then, so you'll finish sooner?”

Chana felt a rising sense of panic at the thought of losing control over her life. She couldn't recall feeling like a fish snared in a net when she became engaged to Yitzhak. But she had been in love with him, and she didn't love Malkijah yet. She wondered if she ever would. “I enjoy the work very much,” she said carefully. “I don't want to stop. And thank you for the offer, but I don't need help.”

He leaned toward her, suddenly serious. “I know, but I need
your
help, Chana. I discovered that I did on the night you visited my home in Beth Hakkerem, the night that young man broke in. You took time to listen to him and figure out what happened. My wife used to do the same thing. Rebecca watched over our servants and listened to them, watched out for their needs and protected them. I fear no one is doing that, especially now that I'm away from home and working in Jerusalem. And I think you would do the job wonderfully well. You have a good heart and a feisty spirit. I know you would be a valuable asset to me and to our home. And that we would work very well together.”

Was it mere flattery or did Malkijah really believe that? He looked sincere. Chana had seen how well-ordered his estate was, and she wondered if she really would find a purpose and a place in it.

“What I've been thinking,” he continued, “is that we could sign the betrothal now, and the wedding would take place after the wall is finished. Our governor seems convinced that we can complete the work within a matter of months, not years.”

Chana knew that a betrothal was just as binding as a marriage. She would be considered Malkijah's wife, and he would replace Abba as the one who made decisions for her. “Would you make me stop building if we become betrothed?”

Malkijah laughed. “I wouldn't know how to stop you, nor would I want to try.” He smiled his crooked smile and reached
across the table to take her hand. “Chana, I promise I'll never force you to do anything you don't want to do.”

She had another thought and drew a steadying breath. “Will you stand up for me now, so I can continue working? Governor Nehemiah is pressuring Abba, trying to force him to send Yudit and Sarah and me back home. But working on the wall has lifted that horrible load of grief I've carried for the past year. I can't explain how free and how . . . how
happy
it has made me to work alongside my father and accomplish something as solid and enduring as that wall. Am I making any sense?”

“You want me to use my influence to convince Governor Nehemiah that he's wrong.”

“Yes. Would you? You said that being married meant working together. And if we're betrothed, then you get to decide what I can and can't do, not the governor.”

“If it would make you happy, Chana, then yes. I'll do what I can to convince him.”

Her misgivings vanished as she twined her fingers in his. “Then I want to make you happy, too, Malkijah. We can become engaged as soon as you and Abba can arrange it.”

Their betrothal took place before a small gathering of family members, friends, and colleagues of Abba and Malkijah. Thankfully, the governor had not been invited but the high priest, Eliashib, had come. Malkijah insisted on holding the celebration in his Jerusalem house so his servants could prepare all the food. Chana wasn't sure how he had done it, but Malkijah had kept his promise and used his influence to make certain that she and her sisters could continue working on the wall.