Daughter of Deliverance (2 page)

As she arrived at just such a row of houses, Rahab spoke to several people who were sitting out in the front. She knew many others were up on their flat roofs. A few leaned over and called to her. Without warning a young man appeared at her elbow and took her arm in his. “Hello, Rahab. How about you and I take a walk?”

“You take the walk yourself, Emir.”

“You need a real man.”

“Well, if I do, I wouldn't choose a child like you.”

“Child! I'm almost sixteen years old. Give me a kiss.”

Rahab laughed and pushed the boy away. “You'll come to a bad end, Emir. Now, go away.”

She knew the boy had a crush on her, but she had little patience for such things.

Near the middle of the row, she stepped through the door of a two-room house. Most of the living, cooking, and eating was done in the first room. There were several rough stools and a rough-plank table. The other room was primarily for sleeping. At one end of the living area, a window gave access to the outside. One could stand by the window and see the sharp stones and rocks at the foot of the wall far below. In the far distance, one could see mountains forming a cordon around the whole area.

As she called out “I'm home” her twelve-year-old sister, Zayna, and four-year-old nephew, Oman, rushed to greet her. Oman, her sister Romar's son, was a sickly little boy. His legs were like sticks, and he had a frightening cough. Rahab laid down her package and picked Oman up. “How's my big boy today?”

“I'm fine, Aunt.”

“Have you been a good boy?”

“No!”

Rahab laughed and winked at Romar. “He's a truth-teller. What's he been into?”

Her older sister shook her head. Fondness was in her eyes, but worry too. She was a plain woman with black hair and brown eyes, not at all pretty like Rahab. They had the same father but different mothers. “He's been good as gold. Why do you tell lies to your aunt, Oman?”

“I thought I was bad.”

“You're never bad.” Rahab kissed his cheek and put him down. She turned to her other sister and hugged her. “Have you been good?”

“Good as gold,” Zayna said.

“No she hasn't,” Romar complained. “She's been naughty.”

“Did you take a stick to her?”

“No, but I should have.”

Zayna was laughing, for they never punished her with a stick. She was a budding beauty with the same wealth of brown hair and unusual-colored violet eyes that Rahab had. And also like Rahab, she was beginning to shine.

A man came out of the sleeping area, swinging himself on a crutch. “Hello, Rahab,” he said, smiling.

“How are you today, Kadir?”

“I can't complain.” Rahab's brother-in-law, Kadir, had once been a tall man but was now stooped. His black hair was streaked with gray, and his dark eyes were sunken. He had been fine-looking once, but years of work in the mines had worn him down, and an accident had crippled him. He was in pain most of the time, though Rahab never heard him complain.

Turning to the package she had brought, Rahab pulled out the rabbit. “See what I have. We'll have rabbit tonight.”

“That will go down good,” Romar said, “but meat's so expensive.”

“We deserve it. I brought some fresh vegetables too. We'll have a feast.”

“Can I help cook?” Zayna pleaded.

“Of course you can. Come along. We'll get started.”

Preparing the meal was a family affair, all of them doing a little. The fresh meat and vegetables were a relief from some of the things they had been forced to eat recently.

Kadir laid aside his crutches, sat down, and began carefully cleaning the vegetables while he spoke to his sister-in-law Rahab. “I don't know what we would have done without you.” He smiled at her. In his face were traces of the handsome man he had once been.

It hurt Rahab deeply to see how he had been beaten down by life. She went over and patted him on the shoulder. “We're a family, Kadir,” she said. “We have to take care of each other.”

“Well, I don't do much, but you work such long hours. I worry about you.”

“Don't worry. I'm all right.”

Across the room Zayna and Oman were playing a game on the floor. She studied her younger sister, and her brow wrinkled for a moment.
She's very beautiful,
she thought.
The men will be coming around her soon enough, as they did to me, and it's hard for a young woman to resist
.

Rahab went to join the two. As she sat down and began to play the simple game, Oman smiled at her. His face was thin, and from time to time he would cough deeply. The rasping cough cut her like a knife.

****

When the meal was ready, they all sat down at the crude table. Zayna's eyes turned toward the door. “Father's coming,” she said.

Rahab noticed that some of the joy went out of the young girl's eyes. She turned to face the door, bracing herself for the entrance of her father. He was that kind of a man.

“So, you couldn't wait for me?”

Makon stood framed in the doorway. He was short and scrawny, and one of his eyes was cocked so that you could never be quite certain whether he was actually looking at you or not. He had a high-pitched nasal voice and was careless about trimming his beard and washing himself. He came to the table, slung himself into a chair, and whined, “You could wait for the head of the family before you start a meal.”

“I'm sorry, Father,” Romar said. “We didn't know how late you'd be working.”

Makon sniffed, his nostrils flaring. “What's that I smell?”

“Fresh rabbit. Rahab bought it,” Kadir said.

“Let's have it, then. I'm starved.”

Rahab got the rabbit that had been roasted on the fire and set it down before her father. She watched as he cut off the best parts for himself and shoved the platter away. He began to eat greedily, making a great deal of noise.

Rahab took the rest of the rabbit and divided it as evenly as possible. It was a fair-sized rabbit, but it didn't go very far, and she tried to see that Oman got the best pieces.

“Did you get paid, Rahab?” Makon snapped.

“Yes, Father, I did.”

“Let's have the money,” he said, sticking out his hand.

Reluctantly, Rahab removed the coins from a small leather bag around her waist. “I need to keep some to buy more food for tomorrow.”

“No, I need it,” Makon grumbled. “Give it to me.”

With a sigh, Rahab dropped the coins into his hand.

Turning toward Makon, Romar pleaded, “Father, please don't gamble this away. It's hard enough to live without your losing money at the games.”

“You're telling me, your father, how to live?” Makon barked. “You think you can boss me around?” He began devouring his food even more noisily, trying to take everything within his reach.

Very seldom did Kadir have anything to say to his father-in-law. He himself wasn't able to bring home very much money, but now he said quietly, “We all need to be very careful. Times are hard.”

Romar, sitting close to her father's side, quickly agreed. “Yes, it's—”

Without warning Makon extended his arm and struck his oldest daughter. He was not a powerful man, so the blow was more insulting than harmful.

In a soothing voice, Rahab said, “Let's not argue. I've brought some fresh figs.”

Makon glared at his son-in-law and Romar, but he accepted a lion's share of the fresh figs. Between bites he began speaking roughly. “Everybody's talking about those Israelites. They're terrible people! Terrible!”

“What have you heard?” Kadir asked.

“Why, they're invincible,” Makon snorted. He paused just a moment to plump a juicy fig into his mouth and savor the juices. Then he waved his hand. “They're like locusts, and they're terrible warriors. They're killing everything in their path.” He continued, but in a few moments he pulled a small flask out of his tunic and drank from it. As the fermented liquid hit his stomach, he began to weep, growing maudlin and whining that the Israelites would kill them all.

Finally he got up and lurched toward the sleeping room. “You mind what I say. Those murdering Israelites will kill us all.”

Everyone sighed with relief as the old man disappeared. Rahab went to get a few figs she had set aside. “Here, one for you and one for you.” She smiled as she gave the figs to Oman and Zayna.

When they had finished, Romar said, “You must all be tired. Time to go to bed.”

“I think I'll go up on the roof and enjoy the cool air for a while first,” Rahab answered.

She ascended the ladder to the flat roof, the place where they all went to relax. Rahab sat down and gazed out over the teaming city of Jericho, thinking of the thousands of people who lived there. Then she turned her eyes outward toward the west and thought of the terrible Israelites that everyone was talking about. She leaned back as the thoughts played in her mind. She had heard that the Israelites had only one god, not many. In Jericho there were hundreds of different gods. Each city and town in Canaan had its own god or goddess, and some, like Jericho, had many.

Her eyes grew thoughtful, and she murmured, “How could there be only one god, as the Israelites say? How could one god alone protect the whole world?” Not able to wrap her mind around the idea of such a big god, and truly tired at last, she went downstairs to bed.

Rahab was awoken out of a restless sleep by the sound of coughing. She sat up, rubbing her eyes in the faint daylight that came down from a small, high window. Oman's shoulders were shaking. Alarmed, she got up quickly and went over to put her hand on his forehead.
He's got a fever, and the last time it took him two weeks to get over it
. A spasm of coughing shook the young boy very hard, as if it were going to rip him apart. Rahab held him to her breast, wishing desperately she could do something to help him.

“I'll get you a drink of water, Oman.”

Getting up, she went into the other room, walking quietly to avoid waking the others, and picked up a large earthen jug. She filled a cup with water, tepid in the hot weather, went back into the sleeping room, and pulled the boy up to a sitting position. “Drink this,” she whispered. His hands were hot in hers as she held the cup and he drank thirstily.

“That was good, Aunt.”

“You lie still now and try to sleep.”

Oman nodded, but his body was hot as a furnace and he kicked off his cover. She picked him up and carried him into the living area, where she laid him on a pallet, then filled a pan with water. Dipping a cloth in it and wringing it out, she began applying it to his thin limbs and body.

“That feels so good!”

“I'm glad. Just be still now.”

“Tell me a story.”

“No, you need to sleep.”

“But I'll go to sleep if you tell me a story.”

Rahab whispered, “All right, I'll tell you a story about a little bear and a little deer that became friends out in the forest….”

Somewhere in the middle of the story, Rahab turned at a noise and saw Romar coming out of the sleeping room. “How is he?” she asked, dark circles under her eyes.

“He had a fever,” Rahab said, “but I think it's finally going down.”

“Why didn't you wake me?” Romar said.

“I knew you needed your sleep,” Rahab replied with a smile.

“But what about you? You're the one who's been up with him, and now it's almost time for you to go to work again. Oh, how I wish you didn't have to go work for that awful man!”

“It's not that bad.”

“Yes it is. Couldn't you find something else to do?”

Rahab shook her head. There was no point even discussing it because work was scarce. She had been working for the weaver for three years and had become quite an expert. There were other weavers in town, but despite his roaming hands, Gadiah did pay a little more than the others. “It doesn't matter,” Rahab said, shaking her head.

Romar reached for her son. “Here, let me hold him while you eat a good breakfast.”

Rahab fixed a simple meal of rice cakes and dried fish. The larder was almost empty, so she did not eat as much as she wanted.

“I've got to go now,” she said. “I'll stop by the market and see if I can get something that will be good for him to eat.”

“Don't let Father see it,” Romar said bitterly. “He'd take food out of a starving child's mouth.”

Rahab did not have an answer for that. She knew that the words were literally true. Things had been a little easier when their mother was alive. To be sure, Makon had abused both her sisters, but Rahab had had enough strength of character to resist him and had been able, at times, to keep him from the worst excesses. No one, however, had been able to keep him from gambling. It was a wild sickness in him, and he lost every bit of money that came into his hands to other gamblers.

“I'll try to be back early, Romar,” she said. She leaned over and kissed Oman and saw that he was asleep. “I'll stop by the temple and leave a gift and pray for his healing.”

“Little good that will do,” Romar said bitterly. She had no confidence in the gods. Rahab herself had little, but what else was there to do?

Leaving the house, she turned and headed toward the weaver's shop. By the time she got to Gadiah's dwelling, the sun had turned a brilliant red and was lighting up the city. Outside the shop she paused for a minute, dreading to go inside. She knew that her employer had been a womanizer for a long time. He had slept with almost all the women who worked for him. The few who refused to give in to him did not last long in his employ, and Rahab knew that sooner or later she would have to face up to this.

She entered the house through a small room and then stepped through a door that led into the work area. Three of the other women were already there, and Gadiah was with them. He was laughing and had his hand on the neck of one of them. “Well,” he said, “you're here on time for a change.” He stepped over to Rahab. “It'll be a good day if you're nice to me and go fetch some fruit from the stand.”