The Sons of Isaac (14 page)

He finally decided it was a foolish concern. She seemed to find even the rocky, sand-strewn desert fascinating. “There are lovely flowers here,” she said on one occasion, holding out a long spike with clusters of pink-winged fruit.

Isaac took the flowers from her and pointed out the six membranous wings surrounding each small nubbed bit of green. “In the summer,” he said, “these small wings dry out and then the wind blows the winged seeds to new places.”

He broke off one of the leaves and handed it to her. “Here,” he said, “taste it. The shepherds like its refreshing taste.”

She nibbled at it and was surprised to find it quite sour but strangely invigorating. “Are there other plants like this?” she asked.

“In every season there are new surprises,” he said. “Now that the rains have stopped, we will see some of the most beautiful ones.”

“Are there flowers in the dry season?”

“You’ll find a few. Some are even my favorites. We’ll make time to go look for them if you like.”

“Oh,” she said, “I’d love that.”

*  *  *

Actually Rebekah had not found the adjustment as easy as Isaac had assumed. She had taken for granted that the most difficult part of her marriage would be the long journey by camel from Haran to the place where they were camped. She had been totally unprepared for this barren, windswept expanse of sand and low shrub.

She had seen it for the first time when their caravan left Hebron. Coming down from the heights, on a well-worn mountain path, she noticed with pleasure the terraced plots of gourds and grapes, and then the dusty green leaves of the olive trees that bordered the path. However, at a projection of barren rock that rose above the surrounding trees, she was suddenly able to view the desert that stretched before them in every direction as far as they could see.

Every so often jagged, ugly mountains broke the dry, gray loess into sections. There were few trees. She could see a number of acacia trees and a few tamarisk trees, but the dusty palms grew only in clumps near the occasional springs. It was a world of gray rock and dull sand with shrubs and small trees all the same color.

She had been forced to admit to herself that this was not going to be easy. However, all her life she had chosen to look at the bright side of any situation and now was no different.

Then she had seen Isaac coming across the field to meet them, and everything changed. When she saw the admiration in his eyes, the handsome lift of his head, and the strong brown muscles of his arm, she was immediately charmed. She had forgotten all of her fears and was prepared to enjoy her new life in this strange place.

As the months passed Rebekah was surprised at her own happiness. She found Isaac’s delight in her a never-ending miracle and the slow pattern of life in her uncle’s camp much to her liking. There seemed to be few restrictions. She could organize her maids to gather herbs for the evening stew, hunt wildflowers, or single out a sheep as a special pet. She was usually up to enjoy the sunrise over the eastern peaks and in the evening she sat with Isaac on soft goat-hair cushions at his tent door. Together they watched the sun slowly descend and then with a final burst of color disappear behind the distant palms leading to the city of Gerar.

There was only one flaw. Isaac was already forty years old and everyone was anxious for them to have a child as soon as possible. When asked, Isaac always said, “There’s no need to worry. I have my father’s blessing and he was promised descendants as the stars and as the sands of the sea.”

However, when a year had passed and there was no sign of Rebekah’s being pregnant, eyebrows were raised and questions whispered. Abraham had been married to Keturah eleven years and they already had three robust little sons and were expecting another child.

“There’s no reason to be afraid,” Rebekah was heard to say. “I have the blessing of my family. I am to be the mother of whole nations.”

In spite of these reassuring sentiments, some watched carefully to see whether, if this situation continued, Isaac would take another wife or a concubine as his father had done.

When Keturah’s son was born, Keturah cried for joy and Abraham hosted a great party to celebrate. “We will name this child Median because there will be many more,” he said. He was well aware and sensitive to Rebekah’s feelings, but he felt sure that time would give them the child that had been promised. He could barely remember the anguish he and Sarah had suffered over her childless state. It now seemed so easy to produce a child.

Rebekah came to the party but was seen to weep openly when she was given the child to hold. “Let me be fruitful like Keturah and not barren like Sarah my kinswoman,” she whispered.

Several of the women heard what she said and reported to Isaac. He was immediately disturbed. He ordered them to refrain from any mention of children and to see that she found some distraction that would temporarily take her mind off the problem.

Deborah was the first to respond. She had been brought to Nahor’s house in Haran as a young girl to care for Rebekah when she was a baby. “It is better that she be a nursemaid to your little girl than starve in our home,” her mother had said. From that time on she had been an important person in Rebekah’s young life. She was cheerful, rather ordinary, and wise beyond her years. Rebekah could be sure of her total love and devotion.

She was the first to grasp the seriousness of Rebekah’s dilemma. She could see that with the father, Abraham, expecting descendants as numerous as the stars, it was important for Rebekah to become pregnant as soon as possible. Since she was naturally wise in the ways of herbs and potions, she immediately began to think of a solution.

Within the hour she secretly called one of the young shepherds and insisted he go find some small, spiky leaves from any of the vervain bushes. With them she intended to brew a potion that was sure to induce pregnancy. To her great disappointment, he returned with the news that such bushes were only to be found on the high slopes around Hebron.

Deborah was not one to be easily defeated. “Go hunt until you find a mandrake,” she said. “This will always bring results.” As it happened it was not the shepherd who found the mandrake but one of the shepherd’s wives. She had been going to keep it for her own use, but since she already had five young children, she decided to give it to Deborah with instructions that if placed under Rebekah’s sleeping mat, she would be pregnant before the new moon.

That night while Isaac was sitting with his father and the men around the fire, Deborah called Rebekah into the tent. “Look,” she said. “See what one of the old women brought me this afternoon.” To Rebekah’s astonishment, Deborah reached into one of the baskets and pulled out something carefully wrapped in sheepskin. With her eyes dancing and her fingers flying excitedly, she unwrapped the bundle and exhibited a perfectly shaped mandrake. “See,” she said, “now you will be with child. The old woman said these are not hard to find here in the desert.”

Rebekah had heard of the strange magic of the mandrake but had never seen one. Its dull leaves and whitish-purple blossoms were wilted, but the forked root was strong and healthy. “See,” Deborah said, “it does look like a little person.”

Rebekah picked it up and held it at arm’s length. “It’s an ugly old thing. What am I to do with it?”

“Be sure to keep it in a safe place and sleep with it under your sleeping mat every night,” Deborah said. “You won’t have to worry anymore about getting pregnant. This is the very strongest magic there is.”

“I have often heard the surest magic was to keep one of old Terah’s small fertility images under the sleeping mat. It’s too bad I didn’t bring one with me.”

Deborah didn’t answer right away. She had thought of bringing out the small image Rebekah’s mother had given her, but she was afraid it would not be welcomed by either Isaac or Abraham. It was better, she thought, to use the more natural herbs and potions. Surely with the mandrake, Rebekah would be pregnant within the fortnight.

When the fortnight had passed, Rebekah was still not pregnant, and when three more months had passed, it was whispered that Keturah was again pregnant, but Rebekah was still barren.

Abraham had now turned all the business of raising their vast herds to Isaac who was fast mastering the art of making a profit, as well as making decisions for his family.

When the rainy season came, Isaac announced that they would be moving to Gerar. “You will like it in the city,” he said to Rebekah. “Short visits can be pleasant; to stay longer means getting involved with their feast days and temple celebrations.”

Moving to Gerar was not very complicated. They left the tents as they were and moved into the large stone house that was kept ready for their return by servants. Once they were settled, Rebekah and her maidens spent most of their days in a leisurely fashion while Isaac and some of his men still rode out to inspect his vast herds.

The women spent much time in the mornings at the public bath. Here they met many of the women of Gerar and took pleasure in hearing gossip from places as far away as Egypt. Even more exciting were the visits to be made in the afternoon to the homes of women of wealth and leisure.

It was on a cold, cloudy morning that something happened to spoil not only the trips to the bath but the whole visit to Gerar. On this morning Rebekah and her maidens had especially looked forward to relaxing in the warm fragrance of the steam rooms and pools. The maids had just finished spreading out her sponges and pots of cream and were heating olive oil over a little fire pot when there was a great commotion at the door. Women began to whisper and gather their food and toilet articles into their baskets and then slipped quietly out a side door.

Rebekah sent Deborah to find out what was causing the commotion. Within moments she was back and urging everyone to gather up their things and follow the others out the door.

“Leave?” said Rebekah. “Why should we leave?”

“It appears that one of the king’s sisters is coming with her women and children. The women say they always leave so she can use the whole bath.”

Rebekah laughed. “How silly. There should be room for both of us.”

“That’s not the matter. There’s room but the princess must not bathe in a room with …”

Rebekah laughed. “She must be very old and ugly to want to be alone.”

“Old and ugly, who are you saying is old and ugly?” The princess stood in the doorway holding what appeared to be a small boy while two little girls clung to her skirt.

Rebekah stood looking at the woman but could not speak. She was taken aback by her regal demeanor and her haughty manner. She wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Who are you and what is your name?” the princess demanded, setting the little boy down by her side.

“I am Rebekah the wife of Isaac, the son of a great desert prince named Abraham,” Rebekah said.

At her words the whole demeanor of the princess changed. A look of cunning came across her face, her eyes narrowed, and she stood shamelessly studying Rebekah. “So you are the bride of Isaac,” she said. “You have come from Haran. I’ve heard of you.”

“You honor me,” Rebekah said, avoiding the woman’s piercing stare.

“Where are your children?” she asked. “I’ve heard much of the promises made to this ‘prince,’ as you call him, by his God.”

Rebekah felt the drops of sweat run down her face while her hands and feet felt suddenly clammy and cold. Her stomach twisted and churned and a terrible nausea came over her. She shook her head but no words came.

The princess tossed her head in the air and smirked. “I would guess that you have none. It’s too bad. Your husband will have to do like his father and get another wife.”

“You’re right,” Rebekah said at last as she regained her composure and looked at the princess without flinching. “I have no children but I have promises.”

“Promises?” the princess asked. “Who has given you promises?”

“The God of my father-in-law Abraham, Elohim, He has promised.”

The princess laughed a hard, harsh laugh. “You’ll eventually learn, it’s only the earth goddess that makes a woman fertile and can give her children. What proof do you have that this God of your people has ever given anyone a child?”

“Sarah, the mother of my husband, trusted Elohim and she was given a child even in her old age.”

The princess grimaced and tossed her head arrogantly. “In her old age and only one child. Look, I have three children and am expecting another before the barley harvest. This is what my goddess can do.”

Rebekah burst into tears and turned away. Deborah put her arms around her and tried to comfort her. At that the princess motioned to her serving girls. “We are not staying,” she said. “This woman no doubt has her bellyful of demons. She will destroy everything she touches.”

With that she picked up the little boy and started toward the door. Suddenly she hesitated and came back to where Rebekah stood. “Tell your husband that you met a princess named Anatah today who has three children and is expecting her fourth. He will understand.”

As the sound of her footsteps died away, Rebekah ordered her handmaidens to gather up everything; then, leading the way, she hurried out the door and down the familiar, narrow lane to their house.

Isaac had just returned and was disturbed to see his dear Rebekah so distraught. “I won’t stay here another night.” Rebekah sobbed. “I want to go home, back to the tents.”

It was only after they were back in their own familiar tent beside the Besor that Rebekah was able to tell him what had happened. When she told him the name of the princess, his face grew grave and troubled. “She says one must pray to the earth goddess for children,” Rebekah told him.

Isaac said nothing, but he wondered at the ways of Elohim that He let this goddess get the best of Him in this way.

Deborah had been so sure the herbs, potions, and mandrake would bring about Rebekah’s pregnancy that she had kept Terah’s little goddess hidden away. Now she felt the little image was Rebekah’s last hope. She knew that Abraham and Isaac would frown upon resorting to such desperate means. She herself viewed the little image as something that ought to concern only the women. The men would not understand that without the help of the goddess, Rebekah would never become pregnant.