Rachel and Leah (Women of Genesis) (14 page)

“But that’s what I want to hear,” she said.

“No,” said Jacob. “What’s written here is what God has done for others, and what you want is to learn what he has in mind for
you
.”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want. To know why God bothered to make me, to be a burden on everyone.”

“Your eyes are lovely,” said Jacob. “Dark and beautiful wells, deep with the promise of wisdom. But they don’t serve you well, those eyes—lovely to look at, but hard to see out of, and it puts a high fence around your life, so you’re a lamb that can never leave the fold and go out onto the grassy hills.”

He knows my heart and yet he describes it in words that are not bitter but beautiful. Does he really see me this way?

“But the holy books don’t have any passages addressed to Leah, daughter of Laban,” he said. “There are words of God to prophets, and words of God to the people of each prophet’s own time. And there are words of the prophets to the people, and stories of the prophets’ lives, and stories of the lives of people who weren’t prophets, some of them even the enemies of God.”

“Then there would be no answers for me.”

“Ah, but there you’d be wrong,” said Jacob. “Here is how God speaks to us through the holy books. First, when I read the stories, I think, is this like my life? Can I learn from this how to live my life closer to God? Second, when I read the covenants and laws, I think, am I keeping these covenants? Am I breaking these laws?”

“But that’s your own thinking, not the voice of God.”

“It’s me thinking
about
the voice of God. He has already
spoken. I have to use my ears to hear him. But then, when my own reading and thinking have taken me nowhere, and I still don’t understand, then I pray and I read again, and this time Wisdom comes into my heart while I read, and now words and phrases come to life on the page, and things that I read before without understanding now say something new and clear, and my eyes are opened.”

“
Your
eyes are open,” said Leah. “But what about me? I don’t have the holy books, and even if I did, how could I read them?”

“When I was born, I didn’t know how to read. I learned.”

“But you had eyes that could
see
.”

“And you have servants that can learn and read aloud,” said Jacob.

“You have these books as your birthright,” said Leah. “Would you give them to a servant to read to me?”

“I would let you and your servant come into my tent during the day, and read. When I’m here, I will explain what I can, if you have questions. This birthright is not given to me to hoard, but to share.”

Leah could hardly breathe.

“Who is your handmaiden? Bilhah? The mosaic-maker’s daughter?”

Had he learned the story of
every
man and woman and child in Laban’s camp?

“I think she can learn to read to you,” said Jacob. “I think she already knows a kind of writing, so it will be easier to learn another.”

Now it seemed silly to her, that quarrel with Bilhah. The girl had meant well. It’s not as if she said anything untrue. Bilhah was young and tainted by the city; of course she could
only think of a woman’s life as leading to marriage. But it wasn’t marriage Leah would get from Jacob. It was the path that would lead her to Wisdom. Marriage to a man whose affection was nothing but pity would not make her happy, but Wisdom would.

Bilhah would bring Wisdom to Leah, not out of her extravagant imaginings of the stranger from the southern desert who falls in love with the half-blind girl, ignoring her beautiful sister, but from Bilhah’s learning to read aloud the words of God and the prophets out of Jacob’s holy books.

Bringing the birthright of Abraham into her life.

B
ilhah crested a hill and stopped, for there on the plain below her she could see, for the first time, the great city of Byblos. For a moment she forgot to breathe, and then took in great gasps of air, to keep herself from sobbing in relief. In her year in a herdsman’s camp, had she forgotten how much she loved the city? No, she had never known how much she loved it, because until her father died the city had surrounded her like water around a fish. And when she left, she had been grieving for her father, and hardly thought of the city itself.

She had even imagined that she hated those crowded streets—after all, it was precisely that crowding that had crushed the life out of her father.

But now, seeing the walls of the buildings, white or brown or grey, yet all bright in the bright sun of early afternoon, and the roofs of thatch or tile, she was filled with a sudden
longing for all that she had lost when she left the city behind. To live in a place where she didn’t know everyone and exactly what their business was, where life was never the same two days in a row, where sheep and goats did not outnumber people, where you might catch bits of a hundred different songs and conversations during a five minute walk … how had she stayed away so long? Leah had done her such a favor by ordering her to go.

Just because she could see the city, though, did not mean she was close to it. She had a long way to go on this winding road, and she would not get there before dark unless she quickened her pace. She was hungry and thirsty, having brought only one small water sack and nothing but her breakfast bread and cheese, which had not even lasted her till noon. She knew that she was probably hungry precisely because she knew there was nothing she could do about it. And it might get worse before it got better, for no one in the city would be expecting her. But certainly one of her father’s friends would take her in, if only for a night or two, and then she would go to the men who followed her father’s art and offer herself as an assistant, a skilled sorter of tile shards. She could earn a living for herself and not be dependent upon the whims of a spoiled, angry, self-pitying child.

“Are you already a harlot, or merely planning to become one?”

The voice startled her, for she had not heard anyone approach; and then, when she realized what the man had said, she responded with all the venom she could put into her voice, “What kind of man looks at a girl my age and thinks such a vile thought?”

The man—who was not tall, and not old, and scruffy-bearded—merely
laughed. “Hundreds of men on this road would look at a girl like you, walking alone, and wonder what her master charges for her services. The men who are more fatherly than lustful will shake their heads and wonder what vile turn of life left you without protection. While the truly evil men—who are, fortunately, rare in this world, will say to themselves, this girl has been walking alone for miles, and carries no burden. Perhaps she has no master, or has run away, and no one will miss her. So I can take her by force, and use her up, and leave her so that no other will ever have her except for the wild scavenging animals of these mountains, and for those few minutes I’ll have the power of a savage god over her, and no one will hear her scream.”

He said this so pleasantly that the sense of his words almost failed to register with her. “Are you trying to frighten me, sir?”

“Why would I want to do that?” he said. “Any girl who wanders this road alone must fear nothing at all. The only surprise is that you got this far without meeting one kind of man or another.”

“I have met many men and women on this road today,” she said, “but none spoke to me except to offer me peace.” She turned away and continued walking down the road. The city fell out of sight below the next hill.

He walked behind her. “A girl who is determined on harlotry must choose her master carefully. For she
will
have a master, one way or another—if she lives at all.”

Now she was frightened, for it was obvious that he had something in mind for her.

“A kind master can make sure you are offered only to the gentlest of clients, the kind who pretend they want their
young girls to feel pleasure rather than pain. A kind master will teach a girl patiently and well how to ply her trade, and dress her richly in fine clothing instead of a scrap of a rag. A kind master will keep her well fed, with plenty of drink to help her forget what she has become.”

The road widened, and she darted to the left, then ran back up the road, passing him. He did not reach out to try to stop her, but he did turn to follow.

“How far have you already walked? Will you make it back home before dark? If not, some mountain cat might find you. Some beast of prey whose heart knows nothing of beauty, but only hunger. One way or another, girl, you’re bound to be devoured today, unless someone takes you under protection.” She was back at the crest of the hill, but without even breaking into a run, he had nearly kept up with her, so she could not catch more than a glance at the city that now seemed infinitely out of reach.

“I’m a strong man,” he said. “I offer my protection. My companionship. The shelter of my fine tent, not far from here, where I offer a bed to travelers, and all the comforts of home, only without the nagging.”

She ran down the other side of the hill. The man behind her laughed. And why shouldn’t he? For now, from behind an outcropping of rock, a young man who could have been his son stepped out into the road to block her way. “I’m the one he wants to protect you from,” said the young man with a leer.

Bilhah realized that they must have counted on her turning back in order to trap her between the two of them. Unless there were others of their band even farther along the road.

“What do you think?” called out the man behind her. “Will
she be quick to learn and like her work, like a good little lamb, or must we tame a lioness?”

The young man in front of her laughed. “Look how she stands still in the road! I think we’ve got ourselves a ewe-hare, too frightened to move!”

Then, suddenly, he got a startled look on his face. A stone thudded to the ground behind him, between his legs. He fell over forward onto the ground.

The back of his head was bloody. He had been hit from behind by a well-aimed stone.

And now, emerging from the shadow of a cliff a ways farther up the road, came Jacob himself, lazily spinning a shepherd’s sling that was obviously loaded with a good-sized stone. He did not look at Bilhah, but kept his eyes on the man behind her as he spoke to her. “Drop to the ground, Bilhah,” he said, “or he’ll hurt you.”

She obeyed instantly, feeling the man’s hands on her as she slumped. He tried to hold onto her dress but she slipped out of his grasp. And then the sharp snap of the sling being released and the stone striking flesh and the older man was also lying motionless on the ground.

“Are they dead?” she said softly.

“Whether they live or die is in God’s hands,” said Jacob. “We won’t be here to see if they wake up or not. The only question that matters is, am I taking you down to Byblos, or back to Padan-aram?”

Bilhah, who had been so certain only a few moments ago, did not know now what she wanted. “There are men like this in the city, too, aren’t there?”

“There’s no shortage of such men in the world. A woman alone is their natural prey. You’ve been under a man’s protection
till now. Your father, and then the friend who led you to Padan-aram, and until this morning, my uncle Laban.”

“I can’t stay there,” she said. “Leah sent me away.”

“Leah sent you away from
her
,” said Jacob. “She doesn’t have the authority to send you away from your father’s camp. And you’re not stupid. You knew that. So you were using that as an excuse to try to go home.”

She nodded miserably.

“Byblos was your father’s home, not yours. Without his arm, his name, his house to protect you, it won’t be the city you grew up in. Before long you’d be wishing for the sheep and goats and cows of Laban’s camp.”

“I think I already do.”

“Leah looked for you this morning. She wanted you to learn to read the writing of the Holy Books, so you could read them to her.”

“Is it the writing of Byblos?”

“Easier,” said Jacob. “Only a couple of dozen signs to learn, instead of hundreds.”

“I ran away. They won’t trust me now.”

“You’re not a bondservant,” said Jacob. “You’re a free girl. Laban told me to ask you to return to help his daughter learn the word of God from the books I brought with me. For this he will pay you by adding a ewe lamb to your dowry year by year. By the time you come of age, there will surely be three or four lambs to give your husband, so he’ll respect you as a bringer of wealth, and not just a servant and mate.”

“But I agreed to serve him for my keep.”

“He realized, when you left, that your service was more valuable than this. And when you learn to read, you’ll be skilled in a trade. A ewe lamb each year, plus bed and board,
are low pay for a scribe, but he hopes you’ll accept the offer anyway.”

“These men frightened me,” said Bilhah. “I would go back to Laban just for his protection.”

“At the moment,” said Jacob, “the afternoon grows later, and if these men happen not to be dead, they’re bound to wake up eventually. Though I think that you’re entitled to whatever money they have on them, for the trouble they caused you.”

“They caused me no trouble, thanks to you,” said Bilhah, “and I don’t want their money. Besides, I doubt they have anything of value with them, except perhaps a knife or two.”