Read Journey to the Well: A Novel Online
Authors: Diana Wallis Taylor
Journey to the Well: A Novel (29 page)
“Where is Haman? We have work to do.”
“My lord Ahmal, Haman is dead.”
“Dead? He is dead? How did this happen?”
The servant related the news as he had heard it only a couple of weeks before. He had been near the gate of the village when they had brought in the body of Haman.
Ahmal listened to the tale, astonished.
“Haman a murderer? He may have been many things, but I find it hard to believe he was that.”
“Master Ajah was there, my lord, he can tell you. It was the boy who told us what happened.”
“A boy?”
“Yes, my lord, young Caleb, son of Jesse.”
Ahmal stroked his beard. This was distressing news. He thought of Marah and her father-in-law. She was an admirable woman considering what she had endured. He knew Haman and disliked him, for he had suspected Haman of theft. He did his job well and had a way with the other merchants, and Ahmal had debated on how to approach the matter. Now it was settled for him. There was no longer the unpleasant task of confronting the man. Ahmal wondered how his widow and family were faring. He must call upon them in any case and present his regrets for their circumstances. He stood thoughtfully a few moments, and then after making sure the merchandise was being unloaded properly, he put one of his men in charge and went to refresh himself . . . and speak with Ajah.
Ajah shook his head. “A bloody business, my friend. They decapitated him and ran him through. He had only a dagger. Not much of a defense against the swords they wielded.” Ajah looked out over the caravansary. “I had my men prepare the burial casket for his widow. She buried him . . . a gruesome task for the family.” He turned back to Ahmal. “There have been many things of concern in your absence, Ahmal.”
Ahmal nodded. “I know. I reviewed the accounts before I left. There were, shall we say, errors?”
“Was the family aware?”
He rose and sighed heavily. “I do not believe they knew. They are good people. I’ll not burden them with Haman’s misdeeds. It is a matter best forgotten.” He looked meaningfully at Ajah.
Ajah nodded reflectively. “It is best forgotten.”
Within the hour Ahmal was on his way to the house of Haman.
“Peace be upon this household.”
“My lord Ahmal.” Marah bowed her head respectfully and welcomed him to their home.
“I wish to extend my sympathy for what you have gone through recently.” He nodded to Elon who stood leaning on his staff.
“It is a kindness that you grace our humble home,” said Elon, moving toward their visitor.
Ahmal seemed to be watching Marah. “You grieve for Haman.”
Marah looked into his face and saw compassion and concern. She bowed her head. “Haman was not all he seemed, my lord.”
He nodded, stroking his beard. “And the boy? How is Caleb doing?”
“He is well. He will soon be of age. He is growing as tall as his father.” She spoke with pride. “Soon he returns from the shop of Shiva the carpenter, where he is an apprentice.”
“He follows in his father’s footsteps, eh?” Ahmal smiled broadly.
“May we offer you some refreshment?” Marah thought quickly of what she could bring out for their guest. There was little in the house.
“Ah, I almost forgot. How careless of me. I have brought a few small gifts, in that your husband, Haman, worked for me. I would have sent them the week of mourning, had I but been here.”
Elon waved a hand and stood proudly. “That is not necessary, my lord. You have been a friend to our family. There is no need for you to trouble yourself.”
“It has brought me such pleasure in gathering these things. You would grieve me to the heart should I have to return with them intact.” He looked genuinely injured.
Marah looked quickly at Elon. “Father Elon, how can we cause our friend ill feelings?”
“You are right, Daughter. We most humbly apologize. We would be most honored to accept your gift.”
Ahmal smiled again and, motioning with his hand to wait, stepped outside, and spoke to a servant who had been waiting at the gate. In a moment, two servants came, bearing jars, bags of leather, goatskins, and more items, which they began to place on the low table. The items covered the table and more was placed on the floor. There were cheeses, wine, sweetbreads, meat, dates from Jericho, plums and figs from Palestine, and truffles from Jerusalem. It was a king’s bounty in the eyes of the poor family.
Marah and Elon stared at Ahmal in astonishment.
“My lord, this is too much. We can never repay you.”
“Repay? My friends, one does not repay a gift. It eases my poor conscience that your family has had to suffer such grief at the hands of one who worked for me. I know he was of your family . . . but . . .”
“But there is a possibility that he was not, my lord.” Marah looked at Ahmal directly.
Ahmal inclined his head sadly. “It would be better to believe that such a one could not come from one’s own family . . .”
Elon spoke up. “I have thought a great deal about this. It is possible, knowing what Haman was like, that he only pretended to be part of our family for his own purposes.”
Marah turned and looked at Elon. He had echoed her own thoughts, yet she had never had the courage to say these things to him. He had suspected Haman also.
Ahmal spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “God is merciful. We shall look forward to better times, shall we not?”
“You are a good and kind man, my lord, you have our sincere gratitude. We thank you for your gifts.” Elon inclined his head respectfully toward Ahmal.
“God’s peace upon this house,” Ahmal said again, and turned to leave.
“God give you His blessing and protection. You are welcome at any time to our humble home.” Elon stood tall before the merchant.
Ahmal touched his breast with a familiar gesture, nodded to Marah, and was gone.
Marah and Elon stood for a moment and looked at the treasure of goods in front of them. Tears came to her eyes. God had seen their need and truly sent that good man.
39
A
hmal passed through the marketplace on his way to the wool merchant to arrange for the disposal of goods he had brought in. As he walked, he was preoccupied with things not related to his caravan. Ordinarily he would have paid little attention to the affairs of women. He was a bachelor and comfortable with his life as a traveling merchant and caravan master. Yet thoughts of Marah stayed on his mind. In spite of the mishaps and the tragedy that plagued her life, she was beautiful and serene. She saw to the affairs of her small family and provided for them with her wool and weavings. An admirable woman. He allowed his thoughts to rest on her, remembering her laughter that evening when the family had joined Haman for dinner at his home.
hmal passed through the marketplace on his way to the wool merchant to arrange for the disposal of goods he had brought in. As he walked, he was preoccupied with things not related to his caravan. Ordinarily he would have paid little attention to the affairs of women. He was a bachelor and comfortable with his life as a traveling merchant and caravan master. Yet thoughts of Marah stayed on his mind. In spite of the mishaps and the tragedy that plagued her life, she was beautiful and serene. She saw to the affairs of her small family and provided for them with her wool and weavings. An admirable woman. He allowed his thoughts to rest on her, remembering her laughter that evening when the family had joined Haman for dinner at his home.
Ahmal continued on in deep thought. He knew their family’s circumstances were destitute. He brought them gifts each time he returned from a journey, always taking care that the small bounty was presented in such a way as to save their pride. Always they were gracious and grateful. They could not continue to live in this way. Sooner or later, out of desperation to put food in the mouth of that growing boy and to take care of Elon, she might turn to a trade she despised. The thought brought him grief and anger.
All day, as he continued his business in Shechem, the thoughts of Marah and her family were seldom far from his mind. He wanted to do something, but what?
Slowly, as the day progressed, an idea began to form. He was more than concerned about her, and attracted to her from the first time she shyly greeted him in the company of that great brute of a husband, Jesse. She loved him, there was no doubt. He had observed the looks that passed between husband and wife. She was happy with him. Then there was Haman, a man who proved to be dishonest and a wretched excuse for a husband. A new thought crossed his mind. He smote his palm with his fist. By the God of Abraham, that was the answer.
That evening as he began to dress, the idea that formed began to whisper its doubts to him. Would she accept? Would she laugh at him? Would she think he felt sorry for her and only offered her his pity? She would scorn him if she suspected that. Truly he must present his idea in such a way as to preserve her dignity and yet offer a solution for the state they now found themselves in.
Eliab came in and observed Ahmal pacing the room. “Master, are you troubled about something?”
“Eliab, you are just the one. I have an idea . . . perhaps the idea of a foolish man, but I am considering marriage.”
“Marriage, at this time of your life? A fine idea, but who is the woman who has won the heart of my master?” Eliab was astonished.
“Do you remember the family who joined us for dinner, with Haman?”
“Yes, Master.”
“It is that woman. She is now a widow, and I would offer marriage.”
“I recall the woman, Master. Has she not been through much tragedy in her life? I hear them speaking of her as I go about the marketplace.”
“And what are they saying there, Eliab?”
“They say she has the ‘evil eye.’ Three husbands dead and another who divorced her. She has endured a great deal of suffering, has she not? The women spurn her, saying she has powers of sorcery and bewitches the men . . . sending them to their death.”
“Cackling hens! Do you believe that, Eliab?”
“I do not. I was impressed that she is a virtuous woman and upright.”
“I agree. The family suffers much with trouble not of their own making.”
“It is a fine family, master.”
“Yes, and she has a young son by the name of Caleb, a good boy and one to be proud of.”
“Ah, yes, master. A fine boy as I recall.” Eliab studied his master a moment and then his eyes sparkled with understanding. “You have no heir, my master?”
“Eliab, you rascal, there is little that I can hide from you.”
“Nothing, master,” and they both laughed.
“My lord.” Eliab’s tone was politely respectful. “Will you permit your humble servant to make a suggestion?”
“You know I rely on you. What is it?”
“Let me send a servant to invite the family to our humble home for another meal. It would give the woman time to prepare herself. Such surroundings may perhaps lend themselves to a more favorable answer.”
“Praise be to God, I was fortunate the day I found you. Of course, that is a much better idea . . . one I should have thought of. I cannot stumble in there and suddenly blurt my intentions. Prepare at once and I will send a message to Marah and her family to join us.”
Ahmal clapped his hands and a servant was soon on his way.
40
M
arah had struggled to walk to her home after another ordeal with the women at the village well. They had thrown a couple of stones this time and hissed at her. They accused her again of the “evil eye” and drew their skirts away from her.
arah had struggled to walk to her home after another ordeal with the women at the village well. They had thrown a couple of stones this time and hissed at her. They accused her again of the “evil eye” and drew their skirts away from her.
“Any woman who has lost four husbands must be suffering the punishment of God. She has done wrong and kept her sin secret. God knows her!”
“Her husband was a murderer. Who knows what things they have done.”
“She comes even now!”
She had ignored them and gotten her water, maintaining her dignity. She would not let them see how they hurt her. These were women who had been friends since she was a young girl. How could they treat her so?
With her last strength, she set the water jug down and unwound her mantle as she stumbled to her pallet. Her head was ringing as she gave in to the darkness.
“Mama!” The voice of Caleb seemed to come from a great distance away. Someone was putting cool cloths on her head.
“Mama, please open your eyes. Please. I cannot lose you also.” Caleb was sobbing quietly.
Slowly Marah opened her eyes. It took so much effort. She turned her head to look at Caleb’s anxious face. Next to him was Hannah. Behind her, Elon looked down at her, his craggy face drawn with worry. She tried to speak but no words came.
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