“I’m so sorry.” I cried.
His hands trembled. “No, don’t be. I’ll clean it for you.”
I flopped on the bed, drained and sweaty.
Phalti returned with the clean bowl and wiped the floor. “What’s wrong? You look so pale.”
I probed his gaze. Could I tell him? I closed my eyes. David would come for me if he knew. He would take me back. Perhaps Phalti could send a message. “You’re my friend?”
“You know I am,” he replied evenly.
“Do you think you can get a message to David for me?”
“What kind of message?” His tightened voice scratched like dry pebbles.
“A delicate message. I need him to—”
“I’m your friend, but I’m no traitor,” he said. “Jonathan told me all about David, how he received an entire city from King Achish in exchange for his loyalty. And frankly, I would not be welcome there, nor do I wish to cross enemy lines. Not even for you.”
My head swirled with dizziness, and I grasped my impossible situation. David would not believe me. He’d think the baby was Phalti’s. I choked back tears as my stomach clenched and tumbled.
“Phalti, the bowl.”
He brought it and held me while I retched. With nothing in my stomach, the pain tore through my sides, and I moaned miserably. David, when will I see you again? When will you meet your son?
Phalti set the bowl down and clasped my shoulder. “You were with David?”
I nodded, holding my stomach with misery.
“And you’re pregnant?”
“I don’t know. But what if he thinks the baby is yours, and he divorces me?”
Phalti’s lips thinned. “Is that all you’re thinking about right now? What about me? Or how I feel? My wife runs off to a foreign country and gets pregnant.”
“No one has to know. My mother thinks the baby is yours.”
“What? You told her already?”
“You know how mothers are. Nothing gets past them. I’m sorry.”
He grimaced, pulled his beard, and tugged at his robe.
“What are you going to do?” I pinned my hands under my armpits.
With downturned lips, he wiped his brow and opened the door. “I’m going to take a walk, alone.”
He shut the door firmly.
* * *
After he left, I buried my head in the blankets. I needed to let David know, but who could help me? Could I bother Adriel?
Merab stuck her head in the room. “How are you feeling? Mother says you’re ill, and your husband looks like a mule kicked him.”
“Where did he go?” I pulled on a cloak and jumped to the door.
“Did you two have a fight? He headed for the river that separates Adriel’s property from Auntie’s.”
I remembered the brook well. Merab and I had practiced jumping the stones while she snuck over to Adriel’s orchards to spy on him. I ran out the door, more anxious to escape Merab’s questioning than to find Phalti. Fresh air would clear my mind and help me conceive a plan.
Phalti sat on a rock overlooking the brook. He whittled a branch with a carving knife, and threw pieces of wood into water swollen with winter rains. My steps rustled the carpet of leaves. He did not look up, but his shoulders stiffened.
I gathered my skirts, climbed onto the rock, and knelt by his side. “I’m sorry. I understand if you never want to see me again.”
He grunted and splintered a chunk off the stick.
“Look, it’s not your problem,” I said. “You did all you could for me, and I appreciate it. Do you wish to go back to Gallim?”
“I have nothing to go back to. I have no parents, no siblings. My only uncle died, and your father’s men burned my fields and stole my livestock.” His lower lip trembled, and he turned his head away from me. “All I ever wanted was a family of my own. But I was too poor. My uncle taught me to write and earn money, and when Jonathan found me to be your husband, I thought God had smiled on my face. I agreed to all his terms. I wanted a wife, someone to love.”
He threw the branch into the water. We watched it float, tossing and bobbing over the rocks until it disappeared amongst the tangled vines.
I rubbed his shoulders and the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. Maybe Adriel will lend you some money. I don’t have any gold on me, but when I do, I’ll send it to you.”
My fingers slipped to the emerald around my neck. It was the only item of value I possessed. I pulled it over my head and dropped it in his hand.
He stared at it and pressed it back to my palm. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“What will you do?”
He sheathed his knife and pulled me between his legs, my back to his chest. “Stay here and take care of you. I’ve already found the woman I love.”
How could he love me when I’d played him for a fool? Phalti, you lovable man, I could lean in your arms forever, if only… My empty stomach complained loudly.
“You’ve been starving the baby.” He kissed the back of my neck. “Michal, as long as you’ll have me, I’ll be yours and never leave you.”
Taking the emerald from my palm, he looped it over my head and placed it back under my robe. “Let’s go back to the house and find some food. I’m starving, too.”
When we appeared at the kitchen, everyone turned toward us. Mother beamed with a sly smile, and Merab opened her arms to kiss me.
“I’ve wonderful news,” she said. Adriel placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. Mother stopped feeding Eliah, and Naomi quieted the other two boys.
“Mother, Michal,” she said. “I’m expecting another baby. I think he’ll arrive near the olive harvest.”
The room erupted in laughter and cheers. Little Joel, Merab’s eldest, danced up and down, singing, “I want a sister.”
Adriel grinned and kissed her again, this time on the lips.
Mother hugged Merab. “You are so fruitful, my dear. Did I tell you how much I love you?”
Phalti and I took turns hugging her. Naomi gave my arm a squeeze and said, “My, this is one big, happy family.”
Merab collared us. “Don’t you two have something to say?”
Phalti sputtered and looked like a fish gasping for a breath. “Oh, you’re… I’m… we’re so happy for you.”
Merab tilted her head. “And? Is there more?”
Phalti blushed, the tips of his ears reddening. His mouth opened and closed, and he gaped at me for help.
I shook my head to deflect Merab and spare Phalti embarrassment. “I’m with Joel. I hope it’s a girl.”
Mother grabbed Phalti’s big hands and shook them. “But I’m sure you’d want a boy.”
He sputtered, “I’m sure she’d be happy either way.”
Merab wagged her index finger. “I saw you two lovebirds sitting on a rock. Come on, spill it. Mother’s been exasperating with her hinting and blinking.”
Adriel clapped Phalti’s back. “So, big man, don’t keep us in suspense. Are you two also expecting a baby?”
Phalti’s jaw dropped, but he recovered quickly. He swept me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “It was unexpected, but I’m happy about it, if she’s happy.”
Merab clapped her hands and bounced on her heels. “When is he due? We’ll have such fun making baby clothes together. Oh, I have the best midwife.”
A deluge of nausea overtook me. I signaled to Phalti and rushed back to my room. Now I’d done it, passing off the baby as Phalti’s. Oh God, please forgive me.
Chapter 18
Job 14:9 Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant.
>>><<<
Merab and I budded in the spring, bloomed through the summer, and ripened in autumn. We did everything together, sewing baby clothes, and caring for her three older sons. We spent many enjoyable afternoons weaving fringes for circumcision gowns. In the evenings, Adriel serenaded us with the smooth, sultry notes of his viol. Merab and I hung on
each other, dreamy eyed and content, lulled by the earthy timbre of the instrument, resembling the crooning of a woman in love.
One stormy night, Merab came to the kitchen, clutching her swollen belly. “I think it’s starting.”
I crouched over the stone tiles, wiping the water that spilled from me. “My water broke. What happens now?”
“Call the midwife.” She bent on her hands and knees and moaned.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my robe. I recalled the pain I’d witnessed and shuddered at the thought of death. Oh, God. Please be with me and my baby. Oh, David…
While Phalti fetched the midwife, Adriel sent the older children to their bedchamber. Thunder roared and lightning cracked. Huge gales of rain pelted the house and rattled the trees. By the time the midwife arrived, my pain had pierced through my screams. They set my feet on a pair of long bricks and rested me on the edge of a wooden plank. Naomi crouched in back of me, her arms around me, propping me up. Mother wet a piece of wool and held it to my lips.
Large billows of red clouded my vision. Sharp claws clamped my body, squeezing, tossing, and casting me about. I blew ragged puffs, dreading the next advance. It came, rolling and rolling until it had completely wrung my insides like a wet dishcloth.
Mother wiped my head with cold water. “Hold on, Michal, hold on…”
The ravening motion came more furious than before. I clung to Mother and trembled until it mercifully ebbed, only to surge again. A giant hand pressed and wrestled and pummeled my womb. The burning between my legs radiated outward, and my screams contracted over and over and over against the wet fleece in my mouth.
“Push, Michal, push it out. Push.” Firm hands grasped my shoulders and supported me on the birthing plank.
I arched my back, panting and gasping, and bore down. A spire of pain pushed through me, and a warm gush propelled David’s baby out.
Silence. A few cubits away, Merab moaned. I pushed up to catch my breath. “Mother, the baby.”
A smaller contraction cast the afterbirth. “My baby,” I shouted. “Why isn’t he crying?”
Naomi held me down, her arms tightening around me. She made snuffling sounds. The midwife pressed on my baby’s chest, a boy, bluish. She slapped him and poked his feet.
My heart tightened, and my fingernails dug into Naomi’s arms. No. No. Dear God, he can’t be dead. David’s son can’t die. I prayed for him daily, asked God for him. Samuel. I’ll name him Samuel, and God will spare him. Dear LORD, let Samuel live before you. LORD God, please.
I rocked in Naomi’s arms while the midwife bent over and sucked Samuel’s mouth and nose. Several panicked heartbeats of blowing and sucking and still no sound. She put her ear to his chest, and her gaze speared my heart to the wall. “There is no life in him. I’m sorry.”
The world slowed to a halt as a shroud floated over my leaden chest. The midwife wrapped Samuel in a blanket and handed him to me. My son Samuel: a perfectly formed boy, translucent skin, reddish wisps of hair, a face as sweet as an angel.
David would never know. Oh, dear David. I’ve failed you so, so miserably.
Mother hugged me, her face mirrored my distress. “I better tell Phalti.”
I held Samuel to my face, unable to respond, my heart as sodden as the bloody mess around my legs. My breasts tingled hot, yet my blood ran cold.
My sister, still battling her labor pains, slumped against her maid. Her pale, frightened face crumpled as our eyes met.
Phalti crept silently to my side. “Come, let me help you to bed.”
“No.” I held Samuel tightly against my chest. “I can’t leave my sister.”
Phalti’s ashen face quivered, and he bent to kiss me. “May I see him?”
I squeezed Samuel tighter, my breath stuttering between my sobs.
He held me, with Samuel between us, and rubbed circles on my back. “It’s not your fault. These things happen. I’ll take care of you.”
I leaned on him and wept.
Merab’s screams grew louder and more insistent, laced with panic. She rocked back and forth, her sweating face contorted. Sound slowed into a hollow cave, my sister screaming, my mother comforting, my maid crying. Merab stared at me, pleading, her hand in a claw of pain.
“Phalti, I have to help her. Hold my baby.”
Phalti cradled my son in the crock of his elbow and placed his large hand over him protectively. “He’s precious. Our son. What did you name him?”
“Samuel.”
“Samuel.” Phalti stared at the baby’s still face. “We’ve asked of God for you, and now we must give you back to Him.” He bowed his head, a large tear trailed down his face.
Sounds of alarm emitted from Merab’s side. I scrambled over and crowded around the other women. Merab’s skin turned clammy and grey. I held her hand. It was cool, too cool. “Merab, you can do it.” I joined the chorus. “Stay with me, stay with me.”
Even as the contractions wracked her body, the baby would not move. “He’s still too high up and turned the wrong way,” the midwife yelled. She pressed her hands on Merab’s abdomen to turn the baby.
My sister whimpered, barely able to breathe. Her eyes constricted with dread. “Michal, take my baby. Raise my sons as your own.”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “You’re going to come through this. I’ll help you raise your sons, but you must stay.” I pleaded even as her head lolled and coldness crept up her face.
Her eyes clouded. “Take my boys.”
She turned to Mother. “Ee…mah…”
Mother wailed and clasped Merab to her chest. The midwife held a long knife. Each cruel contraction lodged the baby more firmly behind Merab’s hips and squeezed more of her life away.
“Adriel, Adriel,” we yelled when the tip of Merab’s nose turned blue and her breathing rattled.
My chest tightened. My throat squeezed into itself. Oh, God, this can’t be happening. Oh, God, save her! “Merab, my sister, my sister.”
Adriel rushed in. “Wife, my love, don’t leave me, don’t leave. Oh, Merab, let me die for you. No!!!”
He covered her with kisses, frantically trying to love her back from the brink, his tears mingling with her blood.
Merab’s eyes fluttered into her head. The midwife cut her open as her last breath departed and her spirit went to God. She pulled out a baby boy who screamed lustily. She cleaned him, cut the cord and handed him to Adriel.
I bent over Merab and kissed her, holding onto her from the back like I used to when I tagged along after her. My sister, my big sister. How could you leave us? A rolling movement startled me. Merab’s open eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. The movement came from her abdomen.
I slid my hands into the gash and snatched a blood-covered baby from her womb. He was blue. I pressed his chest and slapped him, while the midwife cut the cord. Without letting her take him, I sucked the mucus and blood out of his mouth and nose and blew air into his lungs. He coughed and made a small mewing sound.
Everyone crowded around me. I put the babe to my chest. His hair ruffled in every direction, tufts of red and gold. His little hands clawed at me, and his lips latched on my breast. He blinked. Golden eyes poured honey into my soul.
* * *
The day dawned warm and sunny. Golden, red and brown leaves flurried from the stately trees. The bright sky and chirping birds were an incongruous setting for Merab and Samuel’s burial. I dressed Samuel in his circumcision outfit decorated with a fringe of red and gold, the colors of the tribe of Judah. I clung to him, not wanting to let him go, but when the time came, I let Phalti take him.
They walked down the path lined with olive trees toward the burial cave tucked in the golden-brown foothills. The pungent, oily scent of the olive harvest smeared the air with an overbearing heaviness. I stumbled back to my bedchamber and hugged the two babies. Their suckling brought small twinges of comfort. The little black-haired one nursed more aggressively than his brother, so I switched sides every feeding. They stared with c
ontentment, and their sweet, puffy scent soothed the deep ache in my heart.
The gatekeeper shuffled up the path around mid-morning. I had just finished changing the babies and tucked them into their cradles. He rapped on my window. “There’s a messenger from Prince Jonathan. Should I let him in?”
I wiped my hands on my dress, tied my robe, and followed him to the courtyard. A warrior bounded through the gate and was upon me before I could catch my breath.
“Michal.”
“Ittai.” My heart squeezed, and I stood still. “You’re alive.”
The gatekeeper shuffled off, muttering under his breath.
I ushered Ittai into the house. He seemed so silent and stiff.
He wrung his hands. “I don’t know how to tell you.”
“What has happened? Where is my brother?” Panic spurted into my chest. Ittai’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Sit down. Sit down.” He motioned me to the couch and grabbed my hands. “There was a battle…”
A knife sunk into my bowels. “A battle? Jonathan? My father?”
He cleared his throat. “They died fighting for Israel on the top of Mt. Gilboa. Your father and all your brothers except Ishbaal are gone.”
The drumbeat of blood in my ears tore the screams from my throat.
Ittai held me tightly. “They fought valiantly. Your brothers were so valiant, but the storm hampered us, and we ran out of arrows. I tried to drag Jonathan away when they injured him, but he would not run. Like the hero he was, he took down more than twenty men, before he lost his sword, his arm cleaved off.”
His rocked me and cried in my hair. “Jonathan died in my arms. He was such a good man. He died in my arms. I should have died with him, I should not have left him, but my uncles drove me away.”
Died, died, died, all around me was death. I looked down on myself from the ceiling. What sins I must have committed to deserve so much death and brokenness—Father, Jonathan, Merab, Melchishua, Ishui, Samuel—more members of my family dead than living.
Ittai rubbed my back and held me. When my breathing steadied, he pulled a packet from his robe and handed me a ring and a blood-stained tube.
“Jonathan wanted you to have it. He said that you alone of all Saul’s children would see David again. Give the ring to David and keep the leather tube and wear it on your side. The ring is to remind David of his promises, and the scripture in the tube is to remind you to read God’s Word daily.”
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