by Lynn Austin
“But—”
“But nothing! You got away with too much in Babylon because your mother was ill, but that needs to change. You can’t do whatever you want to here. And you can never, ever go off alone again. Do you understand?”
“When can I visit Leyla?”
“Not until I say so. That’s your punishment. And if you run away again, I’ll have you beaten for your own good.”
Zechariah glanced at Yael, expecting to see tears. Instead, she was dry-eyed, her chin held high in defiance. What catastrophe would it take, he wondered, before her stubbornness was finally broken?
Chapter
24
Dinah was on her way to the spring late in the morning with Yael and the other women when she heard someone calling her. “Dinah, wait!” She turned to see her cousin Shoshanna hurrying to catch up. Dinah pulled her into her arms for a long embrace. “I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured.
“I know. I’ve missed you, too. We may not be able to cook or eat meals together, but no one can stop us from walking to the spring together.” They linked arms as they continued down the ramp toward the spring, balancing their jars on their heads. “We’ve been friends all our lives, Dinah, and that will never change.”
“Of course it won’t. But do you think this disagreement between our husbands will ever mend?”
“Joel is still furious with Iddo. He’s convinced that the council made the wrong decision.”
“Iddo told me about it, and I want you to know that I think Joel is right. Why refuse an honest offer to work together? Look at all the trouble Iddo’s stubbornness has caused. Life here was hard enough without making it nearly impossible.”
“I wish there was some way we could talk to the Samaritans’ wives,” Shoshanna said. “Woman to woman. We have much more in common with them than our husbands have with their husbands. We’re all mothers with families—we can better understand the Almighty One’s love. We should be telling our neighbors about His grace, not turning them away in anger.”
“The only thing Iddo ever talks about is God’s wrath and punishment. And look where that’s gotten us.”
The women walking in front of them suddenly slowed. “Listen!” one of them said. “What’s that sound?”
At first Dinah mistook the distant chattering for a flock of birds. But as she and the others rounded the bend she saw a mob of local women, faces shielded with veils, blocking the path to the spring. Dinah halted with the others, gripping Yael’s arm to make her stop. One of the Jewish guards stepped forward to shout above the chattering, “Please! Move aside and let our women draw water!” The village women drowned out his plea with shouts and high-pitched cries.
“Why don’t the guards just push them out of the way?” Yael asked.
“They don’t dare,” Dinah said. “If our men even got close to those women, there would be war.” The mob had guards of their own—a gang of young boys Zaki’s age who hovered in the background behind them.
The two Jewish men continued to walk forward, testing the local women’s reactions, asking them kindly to move aside. When they were still several yards from the spring, the ring of women pelted them with rocks that showered down like hailstones. Dinah tightened her grip on Yael’s arm as the men backed away.
“I can’t imagine all this hostility over water,” Shoshanna said.
“Let’s go back to the city,” Dinah said. “Come on. Iddo and the other men will just have to find another source of water for us. We shouldn’t have to do battle this way.”
“No,” Shoshanna said. “I want these women to know that we aren’t their enemies.” She set her water jar on the ground and began walking forward. Dinah reached out to stop her.
“Shoshanna, wait! What are you doing?”
“Somebody has to be a peacemaker.”
“No, don’t! Stop!” But Shoshanna avoided Dinah’s grasp and continued to stride forward, skirting around the two guards who now stood out of range of the stones. Shoshanna lifted her arms and spread her empty hands as if in surrender.
“We aren’t your enemies,” she shouted above the din. “We’re wives and mothers just like you. Please, can’t we—?” Her words were cut off by a hail of stones. Dinah saw a fist-sized rock smash into Shoshanna’s head. A second well-aimed stone struck her face. Shoshanna toppled to the ground from the impact.
“No!” Dinah screamed. Her instinct was to run to Shoshanna’s side, but Yael blocked her way, holding her back. All around them, the other women screamed and fled back toward the city as a barrage of stones rained down on them. Dinah heard the thudding rocks fall all around her but she was too grief-stricken to care. “No! Shoshanna, no!” she sobbed. “Somebody help her!” The two guards braved the barrage and ran to Shoshanna. Dinah would have run with them, but Yael was surprisingly strong.
“Stay here, Safta. Stay here,” she begged. She was crying, too.
“Let me go, Yael!”
“The men will help her. You aren’t strong enough to carry her, Safta.” Dinah watched helplessly as the men reached Shoshanna and one of them lifted her in his arms. Stones pelted both men as they sprinted back toward Dinah and Yael, but thankfully neither man took a direct hit in the head as Shoshanna had.
“Safta! We have to run!” Yael suddenly cried. “The women are chasing us!” Through a haze of tears, Dinah saw that she was right. The rocks had stopped falling and now the local women surged forward, chasing them with angry shouts. Dinah was too stunned to move.
“Wh-where’s my water jar?” She had no idea what had happened to it.
“Never mind, Safta. We need to run!” Somehow Yael got Dinah turned around and pulled her back to the city as fast as they could go. The two guards caught up with them, carrying Shoshanna, and Dinah saw her friend’s lifeless face, streaked with blood. So much blood! It soaked Shoshanna’s curly hair and ran into her eyes. The guard’s tunic was stained with it.
“Bring her to my house,” Dinah said when they reached the city. “It isn’t far.” The men carried Shoshanna into Dinah’s courtyard and laid her down. She hadn’t made a sound or opened her eyes in all that time. Dinah pressed her shaking fingers to Shoshanna’s neck to feel for her heartbeat. It was weak, but she was alive. For her friend’s sake, Dinah knew she had to pull herself together, to lay aside her shock and fear for a moment and tend to Shoshanna’s wounds. Please, God, let them be superficial. Please, when the bleeding stops and she wakes up again, let her be fine.
“Her husband’s name is Joel. He’s a priest,” Dinah told the two guards. Both men were bruised and bleeding from being struck by rocks, but they weren’t hurt as seriously as Shoshanna. “Find him and tell him he needs to come right away.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No. He could be anywhere. The priests all work extra hours doing guard duty. Start at the house of assembly. Maybe someone there will know. But go! Hurry!”
Yael knelt down beside Dinah and wordlessly handed her a damp cloth. She cleaned the blood from Shoshanna’s face and saw that her skin was badly scraped and her cheekbone probably broken. The larger wound above her eye, near her temple, was the one that worried Dinah. She gently dabbed away the blood, then probed the wound with her fingers. She felt the fist-sized dent in her friend’s skull from the impact of the stone, felt sharp edges of fractured bone, and her stomach turned inside out. No. Oh, God, no. Shoshanna’s skull was smashed in. There was nothing Dinah could do.
She bent forward, wrapping her arms around her friend, lowering her face to Shoshanna’s chest. Please don’t take Shoshanna. She loved you, God. She wanted to come here so badly! How could you let this happen?
Dinah was still weeping when the men returned with Joel. Shoshanna was alive, but she hadn’t regained consciousness and probably never would. Dinah didn’t know how to tell her husband. As the news spread and more people gathered in Dinah’s home, Joel’s grief turned to anger. He interrogated the two guards again and again, as well as the women who h
ad witnessed the attack, including Dinah and Yael. Over and over they told him how Shoshanna had moved forward, trying to make peace. They were able to explain to him what had happened, but no one was able to tell him why it had.
“Don’t just stand there,” he told all the men who had come. “Go find the people who did this to her! Bring them to justice.”
“It was a huge crowd of women and young boys,” one of the guards said. “There’s no way to know who threw that stone.”
When Iddo arrived home, Joel lunged at him, his rage overflowing. “This is your fault! This never would have happened if it weren’t for you!” It took three men to hold him back and keep him from striking Iddo. When Joel finally regained control, he lifted Shoshanna in his arms and carried her home. Dinah wept helplessly, understanding Joel’s anger and grief, his need to blame someone. As far as she was concerned, Joel was right. Iddo was to blame.
“I heard that our women were attacked,” Iddo said, moving toward her through the knot of people. “I was so worried about you, Dinah.” He reached to take her in his arms, but she backed away from him.
“No. You started all this trouble by refusing to see anyone’s point of view but your own. What kind of a hateful, unloving God do you serve?” She fled out of their courtyard and ran the short distance to Joel’s house. She found him sitting on the ground with his wife in his arms, clinging to her as if his tears, his embrace, could make her well.
“Is she going to be all right, Dinah? Will she wake up soon?”
“I don’t know . . . I don’t know . . .” She sank down beside him and closed her eyes, weeping and pleading with the Almighty One to spare her friend. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose Shoshanna.
All day people quietly came and went, bringing food, offering their help, their prayers. “Just find the person who did this,” Joel repeated. “That’s the only help I need.” Hours later, when night fell, he sent Dinah home. “I want to be alone with my wife.”
Dinah did what he asked, but she dreaded facing Iddo. He was to blame for this as surely as if he had thrown that stone. When she arrived, she found Yael sitting outside their house with her back against the courtyard wall, looking up at the starry sky. Yael scrambled to her feet when she saw Dinah. “Is Shoshanna going to live, Safta?”
“I don’t know . . . I wish I did.” She wasn’t ready to talk to Iddo, so she remained outside the gate with Yael as they both looked up at the stars.
“What month was Shoshanna born?” Yael asked softly.
“What difference does it make? Why is that important now?” But then she realized why Yael was asking. She knew how to see the future by studying the stars. The Babylonian woman had once seen Dinah’s future, and maybe Yael could see Shoshanna’s. “Can the stars tell us what will happen to her, Yael?”
“I’m not sure. I might be able to tell if . . .” She gave a little shrug.
“She was born in the month of Nisan, the same as me.” Yael nodded and walked through the courtyard to her room. Dread filled Dinah as she waited. When she could no longer stand waiting, she followed Yael inside. She had lit a small oil lamp and knelt on the floor of her room to study a scroll unrolled before her, each corner weighted with a stone. When Yael looked up and saw Dinah, a look of guilt washed over her face—or maybe it was fear. “I won’t tell anyone, Yael. What do you see?”
“All of the stars . . .” she said softly, “ and even the moon . . .” She shook her head, and Dinah saw Yael wipe a tear. “They’re all lined up against her, Safta.”
Dinah closed her eyes as her tears began to fall again. Yael had only confirmed what Dinah had known all along. The rock had fractured Shoshanna’s skull, shattering the bone, sending shards into her brain. She couldn’t live.
When Dinah returned to Joel’s house early the next morning, he was still holding his wife in his arms. But Shoshanna’s body was cold and lifeless. “Joel . . . she’s gone,” Dinah whispered.
He couldn’t be comforted. Dinah tried, but her own grief was inconsolable. She sobbed as she helped the other women prepare Shoshanna’s body for burial. They held the funeral right away. Mourners gathered outside of Shoshanna’s house afterward, bringing food and condolences, but Joel refused to let anyone inside. At last Dinah went home to confront Iddo, angry with him and his God. This was the second death among the returnees, and both Shoshanna and Hanan had died violently, attacked by their neighbors.
“Wasn’t our people’s punishment supposed to be over?” she asked. “We’ve been serving God, offering all the proper sacrifices. Why did He let this happen?”
“I don’t know what to say,” Iddo answered softly. His eyes were red with grief, but Dinah couldn’t stop her angry words.
“Are you going to seek justice and punish the murderers this time? Shoshanna was trying to make peace with those people! We were all witnesses! They killed her for no reason!”
“Did you see who threw the stone, Dinah? Can you identify any of the veiled women? Did you see the boys’ faces?” She didn’t reply. Iddo already knew the answers. “Even the two guards couldn’t identify her murderer.”
“So you refuse to get justice?”
“No. I’m not refusing anything. I’m as outraged as you are. Our leaders will go to all of the local villages and confront their leaders. We’ll do everything we can to get justice.”
Dinah wasn’t listening. “Why is God taking away everyone I love?”
“Dinah . . .” Iddo tried to hold her and console her, but she pushed him away.
“I blame you for this. You’re the one who put that stone in the killer’s hand!” Iddo turned and walked away.
As the days passed, Joel remained barricaded in his house, pushing everyone away. He refused to leave, refused to have anything to do with the other priests. “Please see if you can talk to him, Dinah,” Iddo urged. “We’re all worried about him.”
She was worried, too. After breakfast one morning, she wrapped up a portion of food that she was too grief-stricken to eat and brought it to Joel. He sat alone in his inner room with all the shutters closed, his robes torn, his hair and beard disheveled. He looked up and saw her in the doorway, then looked down again. “Go away, Dinah.”
Instead, she stepped into the room. “I know you hate Iddo, but please don’t hate me. Shoshanna was much more than my cousin, she was my dearest friend. We brought hundreds of babies into the world together, and for as long as I can remember, she . . .” Dinah couldn’t finish as she began to weep. “I miss her so much!”
“I know,” he said hoarsely. “She loved you like a sister.”
Dinah went all the way into the room and knelt down in front of Joel, laying the plate of food on the floor. “You were right, and Iddo was wrong. He never should have angered the Samaritans that way. I don’t understand why he’s so unbending, and I don’t understand the God he worships.”
“Shoshanna’s death is so meaningless. She was so excited to come here, wanting me to be a priest and serve God. She’s the one who convinced me to come. And look where it got her.” When he covered his face and sobbed, Dinah wrapped her arms around him, weeping on his shoulder. She didn’t care if the Law forbid her to hold him or to be here alone with him. They needed each other’s comfort.
“Thank you, Dinah,” he said when their tears finally ran out.
“I’ll leave this food for you. Please try to eat something.”
Every day that week Dinah put aside extra food for Joel and brought it to him after Iddo left for the day. Sometimes she talked with him for a few hours, reliving her memories of Shoshanna. Sometimes she simply held him and wept in silence. More than anything else, Dinah needed someone to hold on to and grieve with. Her sorrow required the warmth of another caring person no matter what the Law said. Joel didn’t eat very much, and Dinah could see his handsome face growing gaunt. She was with him one morning when a group of priests came to his door.
“This never would have happened if you had listened to me i
nstead of Iddo!” he shouted as he threw them out. “It should’ve been one of your wives who died, not mine! You’re the ones who murdered her! You’re all responsible!” Dinah tried to soothe him after they left, but he paced the small room, too angry to sit. “I’m leaving here, Dinah. I’m going home to Babylon.”
She didn’t believe he meant it at first, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his words after she returned home and resumed her work with the other women. Joel was right; it could have been anyone’s wife who had died. Surely no sensible man would want to stay here now, even Iddo. The local people would never make peace with them. Work on the temple had halted for lack of supplies and workers. No one would sell food to the Jews. Why not admit defeat and go back to Babylon? The Almighty One was clearly against them.
Thinking about Babylon quickly became an antidote to Dinah’s grief. When she saw Yael standing outside their courtyard gate one evening, looking up at the stars, she went out to stand beside her. Yael seemed subdued since Shoshanna’s murder, as if her death had killed Yael’s usually lively spirit. Dinah looked up at the sky with her and said, “I know you can see things up there, and I need to know . . . I need hope . . . Am I ever going home?” Yael looked down at her feet, biting her lip. “You won’t get into trouble, Yael, I swear. Your sorceress in Babylon was right about my heart tearing in two, and you were right about Shoshanna. If you know what the stars say about my future, please tell me. Are they against me like they were against Shoshanna?”
Yael reached to hold Dinah tightly. “Yes,” she whispered. “Your stars are the same as Shoshanna’s, since you were born in Nisan, and right now they’re against you. But they’ll change in time.”
Dinah pushed free from Yael’s embrace. “How much time?” Yael looked down at her feet again, but Dinah lifted her chin and made her look at her. “Will you tell me when the time is right? When I can go home?”
Yael nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell you.”
Two weeks after Shoshanna’s funeral, Iddo tried reaching out to Dinah again as they lay side by side in bed one night, unable to sleep. She pushed him away. “Can you tell me why God took Shoshanna?”