Rachel and Leah (Women of Genesis) (7 page)

But could such a man as that ever belong to
me?
thought Rachel.

There was no voice in her head to answer her question. She didn’t need one.

R
achel told it in the wrong order, though she had thought it out carefully on the way. First tell Father that Rebekah’s son Jacob had come to visit,
then
tell him about the kiss. She hadn’t anticipated Father’s reaction to the news. You would have thought the king of Byblos was coming to visit, the way he immediately began to run around giving orders. Slaughter this animal and that animal, pitch the best visitors’ tent, clean this up, tidy that, make this place look respectable, don’t you know a
prince
is coming?

There was not chance to say even so much as, By the way, Father, he kissed me, and then cried. But then, did she really have to? Father knew the important information—the visitor was his nephew, Rebekah’s son. When he heard about the kiss—and he would—he would already know that it was a kinsman’s kiss and nothing more.

The sudden uproar in the camp brought Leah out of her
tent, of course, and she was holding lightly to the arm of a new girl that Rachel hadn’t seen before. Had Father bought someone? Not likely. Probably someone’s relative, or an orphan he had taken in. She was a comely girl and didn’t carry herself like a slave, so perhaps she had not been bought.

“What’s going on?” asked Leah. “Is that you, Rachel?”

“You know it is,” said Rachel. She knew perfectly well that Leah could recognize most people from a distance, just by their gait and voice, their posture and general coloring. “Who’s the new girl?”

“Bilhah,” said Leah, just as the girl herself said, “I am Bilhah of Byblos, and I’m a free girl.”

Leah smiled. “She’s Noam’s cousin. He stole her dowry money and ran away, and now she serves in his place.”

Bilhah turned red. “I do not,” she said. “Your father refused me as a servant, and said
he
was my cousin now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Leah. “How could I forget? That’s very important.”

“I’m a free girl.”

But Rachel could see that Bilhah was sizing her up, and she wanted to scream at her, Yes, I’m the pretty one, whatever that’s worth, but if you say it in front of Leah then you’re not a very good person, are you.

Instead Bilhah said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as dirty as you are right now.”

Leah spoke up at once, as if to cover the girl’s excessive directness. “She has city manners.”

Rachel at once answered with the family joke, “Which is even worse than no manners at all!” She and Leah burst into laughter.

Bilhah smiled thinly. Rachel decided she didn’t like the
girl. All she seemed to be able to think about was how
free
she was, as if that made much difference in the life of the camp. Everybody did what Father said, and that was that. The only distinction that mattered was whether you were a member of the household or a guest or an intruder. Either you owed Father service, or he owed you hospitality, or you were driven away. Bilhah was under Laban’s protection, and she obeyed him, and what difference, then, whether you were a daughter or a servant or a free girl from Byblos? As if there were some great honor in being from that filthy city by the sea.

“You still haven’t told me what’s happening,” said Leah. “Is someone invading the camp?”

“Yes,” said Rachel.

Bilhah looked alarmed and Leah must have felt her stiffen, because she said, “That’s just Rachel’s joke, Bilhah. Everything’s a story and full of far too much excitement.”

“So it’s only one man,” said Rachel, “and it’s not exactly an invasion. Everything else is true!”

“But that’s all you said,” answered Bilhah, looking puzzled.

Rachel and Leah laughed again. “That’s the joke,” said Leah.

Bilhah looked at them as if they were possessed by some spirit.

“It’s a visitor,” said Rachel. “I met him at the well, and he kissed me.”

Now it was Leah’s turn to stiffen and look alarmed. “Then Father will have him killed, you know that.”

“No, Father has decided to kill two kids and a calf and set them a-roasting so they’ll be ready for supper at nightfall.”

“He’s giving hospitality to a man who filthied you?” said Leah.

“Well, he doesn’t know about the kiss.”

“You didn’t
tell
him?”

“I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. And besides, the man cried when he did it.”

Leah’s consternation was growing, which was, of course, the goal. “Whatever you’re not telling me that will make it all seem sensible, tell me now!”

“He’s our cousin, that’s why he could kiss me and not be killed. Aunt Rebekah’s boy.”

“Boy? She only has the two sons, and they’re grown men.”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t a man when Rebekah gave birth to him!”

“So which son is he? The hairy one or the sneak?”

“He’s not a sneak,” said Rachel.

It was Leah’s turn to laugh. “Didn’t he grab his brother by the heel as he followed him from the womb? That’s the story they tell. Anyway, you’ve told me which one it was who kissed you, because if it was the hairy one, you wouldn’t have minded my calling the other a sneak.”

“His name is Jacob,” said Rachel.

“The son who will
not
inherit,” Leah pointed out.

Rachel hadn’t thought of that. “They’re twins, aren’t they?”

“Great houses aren’t divided among the sons, or within three generations they’re not great houses anymore.”

“So Nahor will get
everything?
Just because he’s oldest?

“Don’t you know anything?” said Leah.

“I never thought Father would choose among our brothers and give it all to one.”

“He doesn’t choose. The birthright goes to the oldest, unless he does something really terrible and gets cut off from the family.”

“What happens to Terah and Choraz? They starve?”

“No, Father gives them something, enough to show they’re worthy men. Then they go into service to a king, or set up a small herd and do their best to make it a great one. That’s why Choraz went off in the service of Kedar ben Ishmael, to see if he could win a place for himself at the table of the prince. Honestly, Rachel, what do you and the shepherds talk about out there in the hills, if you don’t know anything about how your own family inheritances go?”

“Why would we talk about inheritances? They won’t get anything, and neither will I, and besides, it’s awful thinking about what will happen after Father dies, he’s not even old yet, is he?”

“So the man who kissed you, O Lady of the Visions, is just a second son after all.”

“He kissed me as a cousin. If you had been there, he would have kissed
you
just that way.”

“Oh, yes, men are always kissing me. Father buries them in the garden, to help the crops grow”

“Well, they’re not always kissing
me
, either.”

“I wonder why Jacob would come here,” said Leah. “Did he bring a great many men with him?”

“Not any, and no animals, either.”

“Alone?”

“With a bundle and the clothes on his back.”

“So he really is
poor?
” said Leah.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s bringing a message from his mother.”

“Isaac would send gifts,” said Leah.

“Why?”

“You don’t know anything about good manners,” said Leah. “You’ll make someone a perfectly awful wife.”

Leah was always saying things like that, and Rachel couldn’t answer with the obvious retort that at least she could
see
. It would be wrong to taunt Leah about her frailty. But it was also unfair for Leah to taunt
her
when she knew Rachel couldn’t answer. “I don’t want to marry anybody,” said Rachel.

“Oh, right,” said Leah, “that’s why you keep them all staring at you like a prize heifer.”

“I don’t
do
that,” said Rachel angrily. “I can’t help what people look at.”

“But you like it,” said Leah.

“No I don’t,” said Rachel. “You only say that because you want the men to look at you, but I don’t want them to.”

“I don’t want them to, either,” said Leah, “but I think you like it.”

Rachel turned to Bilhah. “She thinks she knows my heart better than I do myself.”

“Yes,” said Leah, “I do. For instance, I know that you let him kiss you because you were hoping that he was your vision coming true. I bet you let him kiss you before you even knew who he was.”

There it was—her secret. The thing she planned to deny if Father asked her. How could Leah guess it?

“I did not,” said Rachel.

“Did you hear that?” said Leah to Bilhah. “That’s how you know when Rachel’s lying. There’s that little pause, and when she tells her lie there’s that little whine in her voice.”

Bilhah clearly did not want to play the Quarreling Sisters game. She looked away, making no response to Leah’s words.

“I’m not lying,” said Rachel.

“There it was again—the pause, the whine.”

“She can mock me like this,” said Rachel to Bilhah, “because she knows that if I ever complain to Father, he’ll tell me that I should just be grateful that I have two good eyes and be patient with Leah.”

But the moment she spoke, she knew that she had done it—used Leah’s tender eyes as a strike against her in a quarrel. Never mind that she was quoting what Father said—in fact, that made it worse.

Leah did not burst into tears the way she used to do when such things were said. She simply turned and walked back to her tent.

“I’m sorry,” said Rachel softly. But she knew Leah could hear her. Leah could hear everything.

Naturally, though, Bilhah would think she was talking to her. “I never had a sister,” said Bilhah, “but I hope if I did we would never have been so hateful to each other.”

“We love each other,” said Rachel. “You don’t know anything.”

“You don’t love each other,” said Bilhah. “You hate each other. Every time something good happens to you, Leah thinks it was stolen from her, and whenever somebody treats Leah kindly, you think they’re giving you a slap.”

“You never saw me before this moment,” said Rachel. “And you’re very rude.”

“I didn’t ask to be part of all that nastiness,” said Bilhah. “If you don’t want other people to judge you, keep your spite to yourself.” She stalked away.

Now, though, Rachel understood what difference it made to be a free girl. No slave who could be whipped would ever have said that to the daughter of Laban. And if Rachel wanted to go to Father and complain about Bilhah being cruel to her and saying ugly things, what would Bilhah think
then
, as she found herself getting thrown out of camp?

Rachel shook her head to drive out the ugly thought. Would I do that to a girl, just because she spoke boldly? Deprive her of the only home she had?

Besides, Bilhah was about half right. There were still times when Leah and Rachel laughed together at jokes that only they understood—hadn’t they laughed like that only a few minutes ago? But quarrels came up more often now than ever before, and they were uglier and more spiteful. Why had Rachel said that, about Father insisting that Leah be forgiven for everything because of her eyes? That was low of her, and she was ashamed.

She stood there, staring off into the dim distance, thinking only of her shame, when suddenly the vision came to her again. The man at the well, and now it was Jacob. The girl, and now she knew it was herself. And he kissed her. That wasn’t in the first dream she had, was it? She would have remembered. She would have told Father about it. No, this wasn’t the vision returning, this was just her imagining it, only now the way she wanted it to have been. She wanted to have Jacob brought to her by God. Maybe he would marry her and take her away from Leah and her envy—and the constant temptation for Rachel to be meaner than she really was at heart.

“Rachel!” It was Father’s voice, and he didn’t sound happy. “Come here!”

Of course she went to him, but at a walk, not a run. It was
hard to run toward peril, and from his voice, she was in danger.

“Why didn’t you tell me this man kissed you?”

“I was about to, but you started telling everybody what animals to kill and how to roast them and I couldn’t say
anything
to you.”

Father glared at her. “Don’t blame
me
for your deception.”

“Why would I lie?” said Rachel. “He’s my cousin, he has a perfect right to kiss me.”

“Old Jaw says he kissed you before he told anybody who he was. So as far as you knew, he was a complete stranger, and you didn’t even try to stop him.”

“Of course not,” said Rachel. “I saw him kiss me in my vision.”

Technically, it was true—not in the original vision, but in the vision she had had only a couple of minutes ago. So maybe it wasn’t a lie, and if it wasn’t, then maybe she hadn’t done the things that made it so Leah could easily tell when she was lying.