The Sons of Isaac (29 page)

Jacob laughed. “Of course you don’t. But I’m your cousin. The son of your aunt Rebekah.”

Rachel gasped and then laughed. “I remember Aunt Rebekah drew the water and watered all your father’s camels. There were ten of them.”

“Exactly,” Jacob said, smiling with pleasure that she understood.

Without another word, she blushed and pushed back her curls, toppling the wreath of daisies from her head. Then she turned and, forgetting her sheep, ran toward the village.

Jacob looked around at the shepherds and motioned for them to come water their animals. “Are all my uncle’s daughters so lively?” he asked.

“He has only two unmarried daughters,” one of the men volunteered.

“And you say he has many sons?”

“Yes. But then he has had many wives. His youngest and favorite wife gave birth to only the two girls.”

“If he has sons, why should such a beauty be out here with the sheep?”

“You might say,” one of the men leaned forward to whisper, “your uncle’s hiding her out here with the sheep.” Jacob looked around at the shepherds who were now clustered around him and noted that they were all old and weathered. No wonder it took them all together to lift the stone from the well.

By the time Laban appeared, Jacob had gleaned a brief history of his situation. “His first wife brought him great riches,” they began, “but gave him only one son.” She was still alive but was rarely seen. His other wives and concubines had given him many sons who were now engaged in the family business of trading, wine making, and producing wool cloth from the shearings of the sheep. The last wife was young and shapely but was ill-tempered because she had been able to produce only the two girls. However, everyone agreed that Laban loved her the most.

“Here comes your uncle now with several of his sons,” one of the shepherds said.

Jacob turned and saw several men hurrying toward him. He knew the thin, important looking man who led the way must be his uncle Laban. He had a staff that helped him navigate the rocks and boulders of a shortcut he had chosen in his excitement. Jacob ran to meet him and was immediately swept into his uncle’s strong embrace. He was aware of the wiry strength of this man and the faint odor of costly sandalwood, as well as the flash of large rings on the fingers that dug into his arms.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Laban exclaimed boisterously as he led Jacob back toward the village and the family home. Things happened so fast that it was only after they were settled in a dim, musty room off a large courtyard that Jacob got a good look at his uncle.

The shutters had been flung back so that light flooded in through two narrow windows and full upon the face of Laban. His head was shaved, his beard trimmed and fashioned to a point, making his face seem long and angular, but it was his eyes that Jacob noted with surprise. They seemed unusually large and slightly protruding. This gave him the look of an almost deceptive innocence and generosity.

Jacob noted that he was dressed in the same style of clothes his grandfather had worn on special occasions, who said it was the way they had all dressed in Ur before the trouble. It was a long fringed cloak pulled to one side, leaving one shoulder bare, and held in place on his other shoulder by a large, dull, silver toggle pin. His knee-length skirt was also fringed. Jacob remembered hearing that only the wealthy city dwellers could wear such things.

The reception room had obviously been opened just for this occasion. The cushions were of good quality but worn, and the room had a musty smell of spoiled fruit, rose water, and a mixture of dried thyme and basil. There was the constant buzzing of flies and from outside in the courtyard came the excited voices of women and the incessant crying of a baby.

From the moment he entered the courtyard and was ushered into this room, Jacob had been overwhelmed with the thought that this was where his mother had grown up. She would feel at home here and might recognize many of the relatives without difficulty. He was seeing everything through her eyes when he was nudged from his reverie by a question put very carefully by his uncle, “And you have come all this way with only a mule and two servants?”

“Yes, yes, I came away in quite a hurry.” As he said it he realized by the look on his uncle’s face that he suspected some dark, unsavory secret.

“And what was the cause of this hurry?”

Jacob hesitated only a moment and decided against telling him the whole truth. “My mother didn’t want me to marry strangers as my brother had done. She hoped I would find a bride among my relatives.”

Laban’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and tugged at his short beard. “As I remember, there were ten camels loaded with gifts when your grandfather sent his servant here on the same mission. Has your family fallen on some bad luck? Is your father perhaps so poor he cannot send gifts?”

At first Jacob was taken aback by his uncle’s frankness and then amused as he remembered his mother’s description of her brother. “He’s terribly greedy,” she had said.

“No,” he said, running his hand a bit nervously around the tasseled edge of the cushion he sat on. “My father is very wealthy. I just left in a hurry.”

“And why such a hurry?” Laban asked, leaning forward. His eyes studied Jacob with a critical glint.

Jacob could see that he would have no peace until he admitted the whole seamy business of his conflict with Esau. “My brother and I are twins. He happened to be born a few minutes before I was and so claimed both the birthright and the blessing. Due to some amazing circumstances, I now have both the birthright and the blessing and my brother has threatened to kill me. My mother insisted I leave until he forgets the whole thing.”

“And your mother thought it would be a good idea for you to marry one of my daughters while you were here.” Laban smirked and leaned back among the cushions, giving Jacob even closer scrutiny.

“Yes, in fact that is exactly what she thought,” Jacob said, totally missing his uncle’s negative reaction.

“And …” said Laban, leaning forward with his face almost cruel in its deliberation, “what were you to use for a bridal price?”

Jacob fell back as though physically slapped. He struggled to find words to answer, but all he could say was that he was to receive the greater share of his father’s wealth at his death.

“Promises cannot buy my daughters. They are the beauties of this area, and I will not give them even to my sister’s son without proper recompense.”

No more was said on the subject, but as they rose to join the rest of Laban’s sons for the evening meal, Laban clutched Jacob’s arm. “I hope there’s no offense. You understand, I have only two daughters remaining to me. We’ll discuss this all later, after I have thought about it. In the meantime you may join my sons. It’s shearing time and we could use another hand.”

*  *  *

Jacob went out every day to work with Laban’s sons at shearing the sheep. It was long, hard work and they didn’t spare him; instead they chided him for being slow and awkward. He finally had to admit that he had very little experience in shearing sheep. At home he had been spared such arduous tasks.

At the end of the shearing, when the wool was bundled and ready for carding, there was a great feast. It was the custom in Haran for all of the men to go to the bathhouse for the day to wash away the grime caked on them from their week with the sheep. For the first time Jacob experienced the delight of Haran’s bathhouse. At home he had bathed in the stream, and only when they lived in the city of Gerar had he gone with the men of his family to the bathhouse. “We must rid ourselves of the stench of sweat and wool before we can enjoy the feast,” one of Laban’s sons explained.

Laban was also there, though he had not so much as ventured a visit to the shearing. He was lounging in the final room where it was clear he had just had a massage. He was drinking some of last year’s wine and eating grapes that lay on a woven mat in front of him. When he saw Jacob, he motioned for him to come and relax and ordered another jug of wine. It was obvious he had some business to discuss with him.

“My son,” he said hesitantly as he watched to see if Jacob recognized his change in status. He was evidently satisfied as he went on. “You have worked hard and have learned quickly the intricacies of shearing a sheep. I could use someone like you. What would you ask for wages?”

Jacob almost choked; he had not thought he had actually done that well. He had worked very hard but it was not as easy as it had at first appeared. Without hesitation he looked at Laban and answered, “If it’s true that I have found favor in your eyes, then give me your daughter Rachel as my wages.”

Laban drew back, set his jug down very deliberately, and looked at Jacob with hooded eyes and a tightness to his mouth that expressed his displeasure more than words. “How long do you suppose you would have to work to earn a treasure like my Rachel?”

Jacob realized he was not dealing with a man who made easy bargains. He again remembered his mother’s words, “My brother is greedy.” He also realized that Laban had no intention of making any bargain that involved his daughter. At the same time Jacob knew that the only thing Laban had that he wanted was his daughter Rachel.

“I’ll work a year for her,” he said, thinking that he was being generous, but knowing that Laban was going to ask double at least.

“Never, never,” Laban almost shouted in a great frenzy that brought his sons over to see what was the matter. “This fellow, this cousin of yours thinks I’ll give him Rachel for only one year of work,” he said.

The sons laughed and nudged each other. “Jacob, you are asking for the moon,” one of them said.

“She is the light of my father’s life,” another said.

“And it isn’t as though you know how to do many of the things that have to be done around here,” a third added.

Jacob had been well aware during the month that all of Laban’s sons worked hard for their father and they all knew how to do many things. He began to see that to offer to work for a year when he didn’t really know how to do anything wasn’t, in Laban’s eyes, acceptable.

Jacob had always been good at bargaining. “If you know what you want,” he had often said, “then you don’t give up.” Now he knew that more than anything in his whole life he wanted Rachel. In fact as the bargaining heated up, he knew he would give any price for her.

The frightening thing was that it was very evident his uncle also prided himself on his bargaining ability. There was a fleeting moment when Jacob realized that it was not his own father, Isaac, he resembled but this wily uncle, and he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.

Before the bargaining was over everyone in the bathhouse had gathered to see what the outcome would be. They all knew Laban and they knew when he had set his mind against making a deal that it was impossible to shake him. They could not believe this newcomer dared to challenge him.

At the last, when Laban was getting tired and Jacob was feeling he might be winning, Laban said, “I have another daughter, Leah; you may have her for working four years.”

Jacob’s mind was made up; he wanted no substitutes. It was Rachel he wanted and he would not settle for less.

Finally when Laban saw that his nephew really seemed to care for Rachel, he decided to ask the impossible, and if the lad agreed, he would give in to him. “All right,” he said, “my final decision: If you will work for me for seven years, I’ll give her to you.”

There was a gasp as everyone estimated what could be gotten for seven years of work. The tension in the air was almost unendurable. They hated to see this feisty young man lose, since he had put up such a struggle, but they knew Jacob could not agree to such a bargain. Who knew what Laban would ask of someone under those conditions.

They watched Jacob carefully. He seemed to be toying with five grapes he had lined up. That seemed to be as far as he would go; five grapes must represent five years. Everyone’s eyes were now on the grapes. What would he do? They had never seen anyone want a woman so badly, and they found that they wanted him to win.

To everyone’s surprise they saw him look at Laban as though trying to make up his mind about something, and then they saw him deliberately tear off two more grapes and put them beside the other five.

A great shout went up as they realized that Jacob had won and in a way Laban had also won. Jacob would work seven years for this slip of a girl he had seen only briefly. What would happen to such a man? they all wondered. Would he really get the girl after the seven years, or would the uncle outmaneuver him? However it worked out, they went away liking this young man who had come up out of the deserts of Canaan to challenge his uncle and wrest his favorite daughter from him.

Laban had not expected his challenge to be accepted, but he was too exhausted to go one more round against this upstart of a nephew. He was actually so exhausted he had to have two of his sons help him out of the bathhouse, and he did not appear at the feast that evening.

Jacob toyed with having some written record made of the agreement, but he thought better of it when he realized that there had been so many witnesses that this would be more binding than anything recorded in clay.

Euphoria carried Jacob through the afternoon. He had won and he had won in fair combat—no tricks, just his wits—and he felt good about it. He dressed carefully for the feast, realizing by that time Rachel would have heard the news and would be taking a long interested look at him. He also determined to somehow get a glimpse of the other daughter Laban was so willing to give him.

Before going to the celebration, Jacob called for one of the slaves he had brought with him from home. “Tomorrow,” he said, “you must leave for Beersheba. Tell my mother all that you have seen here and let her know that I have committed myself to work seven years for my uncle’s daughter.” The young man nodded and agreed that he would go as quickly as possible. He should be able to find a caravan with which to travel most of the way.

For the first time Jacob realized the full significance of the bargain he had made. He would not be able to go home for at least seven years. There could be many changes in that time. He could barely endure the thought that his mother and father would be older or that one of them might even have died. He determined to leave as soon as he had been given his bride. He would not let Laban trick him out of going home.