Michal's Window

by Ayala, Rachelle

  Abigail shook her fist and cheered. “Hear, hear. It is what we’ve all been waiting for.”

  I did not have Abigail’s zeal. Ithream’s breathing problems left me little time to help with worship services. I was forever slipping potions down his throat or staying up late to watch him sleep.

  The other women gave various signals of approbation and left to tend to their children.

  David patted Ithream. “How’s my boy doing?”

  Ithream raised his arms and gave his father a gapped toothed smile.

  I handed him to David. “His breathing seems to get worse when it’s cold.”

  David kissed him and ruffled his hair. “You’ve got to stop making your mother worried.”

  He lifted him on top of his shoulders and turned around in circles while Ithream squealed and coughed. “You’re too little to go, but I’m going to ask your mother to come with me to retrieve the Ark of God.”

  My stomach gurgled with acid, and I wrung my hands, not wanting to leave Ithream’s side.

  “What is it?” David eyed me. “Don’t you want to come with me? Lead the procession with me?”

  “It would be an honor, but I’m afraid.” My voice scratched through my dry throat.

  “Why is that? The LORD sits in the mercy seat between the cherubim, and His blessings will be upon us.”

  “But the Ark did great harm to the Philistines. And when it came back to Israel, God cut down many people who did not treat it reverently.”

  “Do not worry. It will be a good thing to have God’s presence in Jerusalem.” He jogged out of the courtyard with Ithream on his shoulders.

  The next day, we set off on mules alongside a newly constructed ox-cart drawn by two white, virgin heifers. I almost asked where the Levites were to bear the Ark as Moses instructed, but David waved me away with a quick kiss and trotted off to give instructions to the musicians.

  The people played on harps, psalteries, flutes, trumpets, cornets, and drums. They danced and sang the entire four miles. We approached my hometown, and my throat tightened. Where had my father’s glory departed?

  Joel trotted to my side. Fifteen years old, he’d already joined the palace guards under Ittai’s command. “Mother, did you used to live here?”

  Gaddiel and Eliah, at thirteen and twelve, followed him. “Where is Grandfather Saul’s house?”

  I squinted in the direction where our palace had stood. Part of a wall jutted where the guard tower would have been, the place where I met David. Memories of the soft spring breeze, the scent of night jasmine, and the warmth of his chest and arms flooded me. I pulled my mule toward the direction where the gate would have been, but new dwelling places blocked my path.

  “Do you see that rock pile? Your uncle Jonathan used to stand there and practice shooting arrows. And over beyond that hillock is where the gate used to be. My chamber was above where you see that house, the one built with jagged rocks.”

  David trotted toward me and called, “Eglah, boys, come on. You’ll miss the loading of the Ark.”

  He raced off to the front of the line without looking back.

  My heart tugged for one more look. Over there, above the broken walls, I fell in love with you. I glanced at the place where my wedding tent had been placed and pointed my mule toward the departing procession.

  By the time I approached Abinadab’s house, the main procession had already turned around. The golden Ark of the Covenant sat on the ox-cart. I averted my gaze and backed to the side of the road. Its brilliance overwhelmed me, and my stomach gurgled again. Jada had told me of the calamities the Ark caused while in the cities of the Philistines.

  We turned near Nashon’s threshing floor. The cart lurched and the Ark slid. My heart skipped a beat. One of the young men on the cart grabbed the Ark and kept it from falling. An unearthly shriek turned my breath of relief into horror as the man clutched his throat and tumbled to the ground.

  David dismounted and ran toward the cart.

  “He’s dead, he’s dead,” the other man on the cart shouted.

  “Who, what?” Confused voices clamored for answers.

  David raised his hand. “My people, return to Jerusalem. We will leave the Ark here. The LORD has struck Uzzah dead.”

  Anxious silence descended on the people. They put their instruments away and backed slowly away from the Ark.

  David beat his chest and fell on his knees. “Why, LORD? Why have you made this breach against Uzzah? From henceforth, this place will be called Perezuzzah.”

  My nerves froze. How dare he reproach God? Oh, God, we have displeased you. Have mercy on us all. I rode with my head down. We should not have played the music and acted so gleefully. God demanded respect, and we should have behaved with more decorum and formality.

  * * *

  Wails greeted us at the palace. I peeked at David. His face had been in a marked scowl the entire journey back.

  After I dismounted, Naomi rushed toward me, her mouth agape, and tears running down her cheeks. “Come quickly, my lady.”

  Behind her, Ithream’s nurse wrung her hands. A dull pounding noise invaded my head, and I screamed, “Ithream, where’s Ithream?”

  Gentle hands restrained me. Ithream’s physician met me at the door. “I’m sorry. Prince Ithream has gone the way of his fathers.”

  “It can’t be. He was fine when we left. What happened?” I raced to his bed with David’s ragged breathing behind me.

  “No, no! My baby.” I grabbed the limp, lifeless body of my son. He’d had a cough, but no fever, and David had assured me he’d be fine. This morning, he had smiled at me and banged on his drum as I kissed him goodbye. I squeezed tighter. “Ithream! My baby. Why did God have to take you too?”

  David gently removed Ithream from me. “Come with me to the altar. Let me make a sacrifice and entreat of the LORD. I have sinned in the matter of the Ark.”

  I pushed away. “What good will it do? Will you bring my baby back?”

  Without looking at him, I ran to the top of the wall and stared over the shrouded city. The low hanging clouds and grey skies mourned with my empty arms, bereft of both Ithream and Samuel, sons of David, my sons.

  David returned covered in ashes, his clothes ripped in shreds. He sat at my side. His golden-brown eyes drooped heavily. We sat until the sun went down, speechless, somber, separate.

  The next day, we buried Ithream. The maids had dressed his body in a purple brocaded robe trimmed with golden figs. Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting his reddish curls. His thin, pale face slept peacefully, the light playing on the golden tips of his tawny eyelashes. His tiny, bow-shaped mouth, puckered with a bluish tint, would never kiss me again. The small, thin hands tucked over his chest would never bounce a ball nor latch onto my hand. I caressed his sweet, little head and wished the LORD had struck me instead.

  * * *

  I kicked off the blankets, my body bathed in cold sweat. The slicing pain in my chest raged like a feral beast trapped in a pit. Oh LORD, why have you taken him? Why punish a four year old for his father’s sin? Why didn’t you kill me? Oh, why am I cursed? Always cursed.

  I pounded on David’s back and pulled his robe. “Why did you sin with the Ark? You were disrespectful, so noisy, heathen, and Ithream is dead.”

  “Go back to sleep.”

  “Monster! It’s your fault. You sinned, and Ithream died.”

  He grabbed my wrists, gritting his teeth. “Don’t you think I feel bad already without you finding reasons to blame me?”

  “You have many other sons. And many wives and concubines.”

  “You still have your other children. Let them be a comfort to you. God has not left you entirely bereft.”

  I put my hands over my face. “God has taken so many people I love. Every time I have a bit of happiness, he dashes me on the rocks of judgment. Why does he hate me so much? I wish I had died.”

  He sighed and held me to his chest. “You still have me, and you’re still my queen.
Is that not enough?”

  “What good is being queen when my son is dead?”

  Why did God put me and David through so much? We lost each other for so long, and now He’d taken our child, our only child.

  David kissed my forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy again.”

  “You can’t make me happy, ever. I’ll never ever be happy. Just let me die.”

  He rocked me and caressed my back. “I’ll do anything for you. It won’t make up for Ithream, but if there’s anything I can do, I would.”

  I shook my head and rested against him for several long moments. “There’s nothing you can do.” I had nothing left with which to hold onto David. Nothing. I had not been able to conceive after Ithream. Why would he want me when I had no sons for him?

  David squeezed me tighter. “Ask me anything.”

  Could he care for my sons as his own? Perhaps he would formally acknowledge Joshua and Beraiah as his sons and assure me a place at his side. Would he really do anything?

  I took a deep breath, my face in his neck. “Can you adopt my sons and acknowledge them as yours?”

  He stiffened and pushed me back. His eyes widened and then narrowed.

  “David? There’s no law against it, is there?”

  He hid his face in the pillow. “I can’t have Merab’s oldest sons supplant mine for the throne.”

  “I only ask you to acknowledge them, not replace your sons. No one can replace Ithream.” The familiar ripping pain clawed through the core of my heart. I flung the pillow from the bed. “You didn’t mean it, did you? You don’t care if I’m happy or not.”

  His amber eyes wavered slightly before hardening. He gripped my arm and exhaled through his teeth. “Did Phaltiel father your twins? Did he?”

  “I already told you he didn’t.”

  “But you also told me they weren’t mine. So which is it?”

  I squeezed his shoulders. “They’re not Phalti’s because I didn’t sleep with him until you married Maacah.”

  He recoiled. “How did you know when I married Maacah?”

  “Talmai’s brother kidnapped me to stop your marriage. But I got away. I killed him.”

  He wiped a lock of hair off his forehead. “You killed a man?”

  “He ripped me away from my nursing babies. He was cruel, and he almost killed Phalti when he came to rescue me.” I covered my eyes with my fingers. “I stabbed him in the back.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “There was no point. You married another princess—one whose father was useful to you.”

  David slapped the pillow. “I’m not that kind of man. I cared about you even when your father hunted me.”

  “No, you forgot about me. You left me with Phalti until such time when it was convenient for you to take me back—when you wanted the throne of Israel.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “If that’s how you think about me, why do you stay? The kingdom is mine now.”

  The coldness in his voice filled my wounded heart with fresh pain. What happened to the love? The promises? The dreams?

  “So you won’t acknowledge my sons?” My voice rattled in my parched throat.

  “I’ll love them as my own, but I won’t acknowledge them. I’ll not bring shame into my household. I have plenty of sons. I don’t need sons of Saul.”

  Was Ithream a son of Saul to you? Are you glad he’s dead? I threw myself into the bed and crawled under the blankets. Ithream, my son, my son, why couldn’t I have died for you?

  David pulled on a robe and went to the door. “Never mention this again. Even if I had fathered Joshua and Beraiah, I cannot acknowledge them. You were married to Phalti at the time of their birth. I suggest you see Nefertira and get yourself fixed up. I have a busy day today, and I need you back in the throne room. I will not put up with any more excuses. You’re still the queen. Don’t ruin it.”

  * * *

  The door swung open with a bang, and I looked up from David’s prayer scroll.

  David stepped into our bedchamber with a fervent gleam in his eye. “It’s been three months, and this time I will succeed in bringing the Ark back.”

  A servant followed and peeled off David’s ceremonial robe before slipping a dressing robe over his linen underclothes. Another servant handed him a goblet of wine.

  David leaned over me. “It will bless us when it lies in Jerusalem. I’m going to build the LORD a temple, a golden temple for his Ark.”

  “But the Ark is a fearful thing. Remember what happened last time?”

  David’s head bobbed as he waved his hands. “I’ve searched the book of the Law, and this time the Levites will carry the Ark as God has prescribed. I need you to gather the women to come with me.”

  “Oh, I’m so weary and have a headache. Please forgive me and excuse me this time.” I did not wish to witness to another disaster.

  He had seemingly forgotten about Ithream. Of course, he had many other sons and daughters, whereas Ithream, my only connection to him, had been snuffed out because of his sin. I slumped on the couch.

  David’s mouth turned down. “Promise me, Eglah, when you hear the music, you’ll come to the window and watch. It’s important for me, for us, for our kingdom, that we have the blessing of Almighty God.”

  He gave me a perfunctory kiss on the forehead and left. A cloud of depression blanketed my soul, and I curled into a ball of tears on my couch.

  Ching, chang, plink, tinkle. The jangling noise and the people’s cheers roused me. I put on my queenly face and walked stiffly to the window, chin up, expecting to see nothing, but to grace the window with my ceremonial presence in case David should look up.

  “Ahhh… eehhhh… Aaooohhh!” Squeals rose from the serving girls and women of the street. I opened my eyes wider. What could those silly creatures be swooning for? Weren’t we expecting the Holy Ark of the Covenant of the LORD? Why were the people dancing in the streets like some heathen procession, whooping and jumping around like monkeys at a Philistine circus?

  As the parade drew closer, the source of their enthusiasm leapt to my sight. David trailed the Ark, springing and prancing hysterically. He was stripped to his linen underclothes and exposed his shoulders and thighs. He threw his head back like a wild man, swinging his arms in the air, turning and whirling and skipping, whooping at the top of his lungs.

  I leaned out the window. My glance traveled to the maidens leering at his display, and the bile came up my throat. Does David not respect the Holy One of Israel? Is he causing more shame and judgment to fall on our house? Hadn’t he done enough damage? And worse, which of those maidens would soon appear in his bed?

  He had ripped my heart, exposed it cruelly to every slave girl in the kingdom and shattered the image I had of a man loved by God. The clanging cymbals, hoots, and whistles paraded past my window. So ecstatic was David in his crazed dance, he did not give me a passing glance. The horrid girls threw themselves in his path as he high-stepped over them, no doubt giving them a close-up glimpse of his crudity.

  The train of wives, sons and daughters followed, waving palm branches. Abigail passed below my window and looked up. Chileab waved, and I waved back, forcing a smile on my face. Tamar followed Maacah and Absalom. Her long fiery hair burnished gold in the afternoon sun. I gazed after her, longing for my daughter, for my lost innocence and cherished love, all washed away by David’s indifference.

  “Mother!” My five remaining sons saluted me. So handsome and strong, they reminded me of my brothers—hearty and hale, in the prime of their youth. Ittai stopped his horse under my window. Our sad eyes held each other for a long moment before he hastened off at the sound of the trumpets.

  Late in the evening, David trampled toward the palace with a coterie of vain fellows, laughing and singing lustily. A gaggle of serving maids frolicked around them, weaving and staggering with their tabrets and mincing steps.

  David called to me, “Eglah, did you see me? Did you see the Ark?”


  Squeals of approbation from the drunken contingent swirled up to the window.

  I saw him all right. I rushed down the stairs, threw open the door and collared him like one of my grown sons.

  I slapped his face. “How glorious was the King of Israel today, who uncovered himself today in the eyes of the handmaids of his servants, as one of the vain fellows shamelessly uncovers himself!”

  David’s eyes blazed. The crowd silenced. He grabbed my arm. “God chose me over your father and your father’s house to rule Israel. I’ll dance and shout all I want for the LORD’s glory.”

  He clamped my arms as his voice lowered. “And I will uncover myself and be yet viler and abase myself further. And the women you’re so worried about? They shall honor me, even if you won’t.”

  He pushed me into the house and slammed the door. What an indecent spectacle I had made! I sunk to my knees, but David threw me over his shoulder and marched up the stairs. He flung me over the window ledge and screamed. “What do you see?”

  “Nuh-nothing.”

  The street glistened with the blood of the sacrifices. Every six steps they had killed oxen and sheep. Trampled palm branches and discarded garments littered the lanes.

  He pushed me out further. “What do you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  He grabbed my legs and thrust my torso out the window until I hung partway down. My gown flipped, exposing my legs. “David, stop. You’re scaring me.”

  “What do you see?”

  “I see you, David. You and the women dancing.”

  “And you despised me, didn’t you?”

  “No. I didn’t. I didn’t.”

  He pushed me further and leaned his weight on me. “And what else did you see?”

  “The Ark. The Ark of the LORD.”

  “And you were jealous, weren’t you?”

  “No. You disrespected the LORD. You disrobed in front of him.”

  “I humbled myself before the LORD. But you were jealous of my zeal. And you hated it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He pulled me back and shook me. “Why are you denying it? Don’t you know I can tell by looking in your eyes?”