Michal's Window

by Ayala, Rachelle

  He walked to the window. She’s there! A goddess bathing in the rain. Oh, God, you’ve answered my prayers.

  He peered through the drizzle. She was definitely there. He leaned out the window and shouted, “Hello, Michal!”

  She didn’t look up. Perhaps she couldn’t hear him through the rain. He cupped his hands and shouted louder, “Hello, Michal!”

  She must have heard me. She’s deliberately ignoring me.

  “Michal! Over here!” He waved both arms. She stretched in the tub, her curvaceous body shone in the moonlight. Her hands circled her breasts and slipped down her sides. She rubbed her belly and one hand slid between her legs.

  David’s eyes widened. Her hips undulated and splashed water over the sides of the tub. A hot poker pointed straight from his loins, and his groin ached. Michal, you witch. What have you done to me? Why are you writhing like a serpent knowing that I’m watching you? Oh, Michal, I want you right now.

  David ran to the door. “Arik. Arik.”

  “Yes, O King.”

  “Fetch Michal right away. And arrest Ittai. They’re back.”

  “Yes, O King.” He ran down the stairs, calling for the other guards.

  David stepped back to the window, but Michal had disappeared. The tub glistened in the moonlight, the water still lapping at the edges.

  The minutes slogged by. Footsteps bounded up the stairs. David opened the door.

  Arik and another guard stood there, wet from the rain. “O King, she is not there.”

  “How can that be? She was bathing on the rooftop.”

  They looked at each other before answering. “O King, we checked with the maid. There was no one there but her.”

  “Impossible, the maid is hiding her. Bring her to me, and I will whip her until she talks.”

  Again they exchanged looks.

  “Now!”

  “Yes, O King.”

  “Arik, I want my wife back tonight. Or your head will be on a platter. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, O King.”

  David sat at his table and fingered the chipped side of Michal’s jade box. The phoenix’s sharp beak pointed at the dragon’s snout. The dragon’s claws grabbed her breast. And her tail wrapped around his hind legs. But his tail entrapped her wings. The dragon bared his teeth. The phoenix’s stare pierced through him.

  A knock on the door roused him. When he opened it, Naomi bowed to the ground.

  “Naomi, where is your mistress? And if you lie, I will beat you myself.”

  She trembled on the floor. “O King. I lie not. My mistress has been gone a little more than two months. I have not seen or heard from her.”

  “Then what was she doing bathing on the roof? I saw her with my own eyes.”

  “O King, that was not her. That was our neighbor’s wife. I helped her maids drag the tub to the roof and fetch the water. It was too hot inside the house.”

  “Neighbor’s wife?” Anger drained down to David’s toes, and a white chill crawled up his back. “Who’s your neighbor?”

  “Uriah, my lord, Uriah the Hittite.”

  David stood. “You may go. When Michal returns, you’re to let me know. Go to the gate and call for Arik.”

  Neighbor’s wife. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. Neighbor’s wife. David’s head spun, and he fell on the floor. Images of the bathing lady taunted him.

  She was so beautiful, so much like Michal. Shapely, her breasts full and heavy. And the way she moved. His body heated like an iron, hot and hard. David unrolled Michal’s rug and lay on it, taking deep, slow breaths. No use. He imagined her rolling and moaning under him. How did such a beauty exist without his notice? Why was she not his concubine?

  He called out the door. “Arik, come here. Your head is spared. Look out my window. You see that house? The one with the empty tub on the roof. Go now and get the woman and bring her to me. I wish to talk to her.”

  “Yes, O King.”

  David returned to the window. Her husband would have been gone two months already. He was one of the mighty men, a big bear of a man.

  He would talk to her and console her, perhaps praise her husband. There could be no harm in a little friendly conversation. He put all thoughts of undressing her out of his mind. He was the king, and he took interest in his subjects. He cared about their families.

  The guards walked her into the street. She clutched a cloak tightly around her face. Curiosity stirred his loins. He rubbed sweaty palms against his robe.

  Minutes later, they were at the door. The woman stepped in, her head bent low. She half-bowed, but settled for a nod under her hood. Arik shut the door and left them alone.

  “Come, sit. Tell me your name and whose daughter you are.” David kept his voice smooth and level.

  She sat at the edge of the couch, her hands clasped.

  He moved next to her and removed her cloak. She averted her gaze, but he tilted her face and lost his breath. Her skin shone as smooth as alabaster, and her eyes, dark blue as a moonlit lake. Her mouth, a perfect rose, lush, shaped like Michal’s. He touched her hair. A mass of curls wrapped themselves around his fingers, trapping him. David throbbed like never before and leaned closer. She trembled and shut her eyes.

  Her neck moved. “I am a man’s wife.”

  “I am the king.”

  “My lord.” She waited, her eyes downcast.

  “Are you afraid of me? Have you seen me before?”

  A faint smile curved her lips. “Yes, you danced with me in front of the Ark of the Covenant.”

  “So you remember me?”

  She looked down at her lap. “My lord, king. What do you want with me?”

  “To behold you, up close. When I saw you move in the bathtub, you moved my heart.” A bright red blush rose from her cheeks to her temple. She stroked her neck with three long, elegant fingers.

  David gestured to the table. “Hungry? Some fruit and wine?”

  “My lord, I’ve dined already.” She glanced at the table, her gaze settling on Michal’s boxes.

  David picked up the sandalwood box and placed it in her hands. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  The carved pregnant goddess with eight serpentine arms stared from the lid.

  The woman drew her breath in. A tinge of a smile crossed her face, and her eyes flicked a you’re-a-naughty-boy look before going back to the box.

  “Go ahead, open it,” David said.

  She opened it. Scraps of parchment peeked out. “Oh.”

  She shut the box quickly. David’s face heated, and his fists tightened. Love notes. His.

  She handed the box to David. “It’s quite lovely. Where did it come from?”

  “A place far to the east called India.”

  “Do women have eight arms there? Might be useful. Think of all the weaving and embroidery they could do.” She fanned herself, and her lips parted slightly.

  David put the sandalwood box back on the table and followed her gaze.

  “What about that one? The silver one?” She pointed to it, exposing her wrist.

  He handed Michal’s silver box to her, and she examined it, turning it every which way. The way she ran her fingers along the curves made David’s mouth water.

  “It’s lovely, so intricate: the sunflower in the center, the curling leaves and vines, and the border of circles and squares. Ah, see here the rays curve from the petals like that of the sun. Not a straight edge. Like a wild beast, crouched.” Her tongue darted over her upper lip. “Ready to leap.”

  David could have pounced on her, but he cleared his throat and said, “You’re an artist, I see. Do you like it?”

  She blushed again, flicked her hair off her shoulder and opened it. “Arrowheads? Oh.”

  She set the box on the table. Dried blood flaked off the arrowheads. A chilling sensation, silent like a panther, stalked David’s shoulder blades.

  He poured wine into a pair of goblets and placed one in her hand, lightly brushing it with his finge
rtip. While she sipped, he took his harp from the corner. “Do you like music?”

  She bobbed her head. “I hear you’re one of the best.”

  Her eyes sparkled with interest, and she touched the harp, caressing its wooden frame.

  “Surely you exaggerate.” He coughed. “I don’t know if I can play or sing with you staring at me like that.”

  She lowered her face, and her breath quickened. “Oh, my king, I apologize.”

  David put the harp down and took her arm. “No apologies needed.”

  He tipped her chin and stared into her eyes, deep, lustrous and oh, so blue. He could swim in them forever. “You’re beautiful.”

  She closed her eyes, drew in her breath, but did not back away. Her lips trembled slightly, and her cheeks glowed.

  David composed himself and led her to the wardrobe. He took out a sky-blue gown with dancing bell sleeves trimmed with silver threads. He dug through Michal’s jewelry and found a blue star sapphire set in silver.

  “A gift from your king. Stand up.”

  She gulped a mouthful of wine and stood for him. David held the gown in front of her. It enhanced her creamy skin, blue eyes, and black lustrous hair. Perfect. “Hold it up to your chest.”

  She held it while he placed the sapphire around her neck. She squirmed at this touch, and a smile lit her face.

  “Would you like to try the dress?” David moved her hair from under the necklace and touched her smooth white neck.

  “Doesn’t it belong to your wife?”

  “It doesn’t suit her. Go ahead. There’s a screen, or you can step into the bathroom. I promise I won’t peek.”

  Her hips swayed as she walked toward the bathroom. She looked over her shoulder with a flutter of her eyelids and a sidelong smile before stepping in. His groin tightened in a flash, and he took a sip of wine to cool the heat in his chest.

  Moments later, she emerged, a dream in blue. David stepped up and held her softly in his arms. She looked radiant and felt so inviting. His head swirled in a haze of desire, and he bent down and touched his forehead to hers. She stroked his jaw, and her breath shortened. He inhaled her sweet fragrance and opened his mouth.

  Their lips met, and he kissed her softly, savoring the freshness of her tender touch. Her tongue danced between his lips, and his hands crept down her shoulders to fondle her breasts. Small, mewing pants encouraged him, and he lifted her and placed her on the bed.

  He trailed kisses down her neck and over the fabric of her dress, heartened by her faint moans. Her back arched to meet his firm arousal, and a tiny cry escaped her lips as his hands explored her delicious body.

  “Do you want the dress off?” he asked.

  She nodded and raised her arms. The dress slipped off easily. She was gorgeous, so smooth and supple. She had never had a child, her skin soft, her belly tight with no marks and sags. There was so much to kiss and handle. David moved her to the bed, rueing he had only one mouth and two hands.

  He placed her hand between her legs and kissed her breasts. “I want to see you do that again.”

  She stiffened and flushed, a cloud of embarrassment tinted her face.

  He had no intention of defiling her. He just wanted to watch her up close. “Go ahead, I saw you on the roof. Show me what you did in your tub.”

  She withdrew her hand as if she touched the flame of an oil lamp. “No, I can’t.”

  Her lips quivered so deliciously, he immediately pressed himself to her. She writhed and moaned again. Her hands clawed his back and removed his robe. As it fell to the floor, she moved her hands under his tunic and tugged.

  David’s arousal responded immediately. He raised his arms, and she pulled his tunic off. Her fingers pressed the muscles of his chest and slid down to his belly. Her hands around his waist, she grabbed his sides while he rolled her breasts, their mouths and tongues entangled. She removed his breeches, and David could no longer control himself.

  With an anguished cry, he possessed his neighbor’s wife. She rocked and moved under him like a bucking horse. Her cries of delight punctuated the air joined by the groans of his release.

  As David held her in his arms, she told him her name. “Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam.”

  Chapter 37

  Job 6:4 For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.

  >>><<<

  The day buzzed hot, and David sweltered under his robes. A throng of petitioners filed into the throne room with their petty disputes. They droned and droned. He turned most of them over to Hushai, his chief counselor.

  A messenger brought a report from the battlefield. “The Ammonites have withdrawn to Rabbah. We were forced to lay down a siege.”

  David banged a fist on the side of his throne. “Send five hundred men. Arm them with shields and pikes.”

  Only a few more messengers, and he could go back. To what? Certainly not Bathsheba. She was another man’s wife, Uriah’s wife. David tightened his lips against clenched teeth. His throat soured. He should never have touched her.

  “O King, a message from your servant Phaltiel of Mahanaim.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He begs you to travel to his son-in-law’s house in Lo-debar to pray at your wife’s bedside.”

  David blinked, suddenly alert. “What happened?”

  “She was shot by an arrow,” the messenger said. “He thinks she’s dying.”

  Michal? Dying? An ice cold spear shafted his heart. He raised his crown and slammed it on the throne. “Why has no one come to tell me? What is wrong with all of you? Where’s Ittai?”

  “Ittai is guarding her, my king.”

  David turned to Arik. “Bring my horse. You and Uri are coming with me. Hushai, find the best healer in the land and send him to Lo-debar.”

  David lowered his head while waiting for his horse. O LORD God, I have sinned. Forgive my sin and have mercy on me. Let Michal be healed, so I can love her again. O LORD, correct me with your judgment, not in anger, but with mercy.

  * * *

  David prayed the entire way to Lo-debar. He wore out several horses, exchanging them along the way. Without waiting to be announced, he pounded on the door. Machir and his wife, Anna, ushered him in. He rushed to Michal’s bedside, pushing past the people gathered around.

  She was pale, her breathing labored, and she burned with fever.

  David knelt, grabbing her hands. “Eglah, I’m here. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  Her eyes fluttered and rolled in his direction.

  He brought her clammy hand to his lips. All he could hear was the rasping of her breath and the sobs of those around. David bent his head down and prayed for the mercy he did not deserve.

  “David,” she said, her voice so weak it wasn’t even a whisper. “The scarlet cord. The window.”

  “What scarlet cord? What window?”

  “The City of God. Look for me. I’m going.” She stared far away. A smile came to her face. “Ithream, Merab, Jonathan, Mother, Sam—”

  “No!” David grabbed her hands. “Eglah, don’t go.”

  His screams brought a rush of people to her bed. Phaltiel fell at her side. Ittai hugged her feet and legs. Anna whimpered and fell at her chest. Michal’s five sons and other relatives crowded in. They cried and entreated, competing with the ghosts, a tug-of-war between the living and the dead.

  “O Living God,” David said, “Grant me a miracle. O God, don’t forsake me, Your servant, David. Let my wife live.”

  “O LORD God,” Phaltiel said. “Take me, your worthless servant, and let me die in her place.”

  “O God of Israel,” Ittai said, holding Michal’s legs. “No one loves her like I do. Dear God of Israel, I can’t bear it if she died. You know how much I love her.” His wail rent the room.

  David’s fingers tightened around Michal’s hand. Ittai had no right to say the things he did, and in front of everyone. David breath
ed into her ear. “Eglah, come back. Come back to me, only to me.”

  He kept one hand on her chest to feel for her breathing. The rasping shuddered into a sob. He could barely hear her over the din. Her head burned hot, too hot.

  “Cool her with water,” David ordered and looked into her glassy eyes. “Don’t leave me. Don’t.”

  “Come, my lord, David,” she muttered as her breathing labored and her fingers tightened around his. David hid his face next to her ear and thanked the LORD in his heart.

  Rizpah stepped in. “The healer is here.”

  Phaltiel rose and rubbed his eyes. Ittai remained slumped at the foot of her bed, his hair spread on her feet, seemingly unable to lift his head.

  A woman approached. She was past middle-aged, but strikingly beautiful. Her copper-bronze hair shone in the lamplight like little glistening snakes. Blue-green eyes, as calm as the sea, stared at David.

  “My king.” She bowed. After David acknowledged her, she hurried to the bedside.

  She placed her fingers at the side of Michal’s neck. “Bring melons, cool melons and cucumbers. There is too much heat inside of her. It needs to be cooled. Open the windows and let the breeze in. Bring me a candle and oil.”

  Servants scurried off to do her bidding.

  The healer took out three cups and laid them on the table next to the bed. “I will balance her humors. Have the maid fetch boiling water. I’ve brought chrysanthemums and camellia with a little rhino horn powder.”

  She surveyed the room, her hands on her hips. “All men must leave. You embody fire and heat. The women may stay. I need you to sing and chant.”

  Her severe tone raised spines over David’s back. He yanked Ittai off the end of the bed and pulled him out of the room. The healer’s assistant, a young woman brushed past him. David blinked at her image, a vision of Michal as a young princess.

  He took a deep breath and marched Ittai out of the house. “I heard what you said, and it’s not true.”

  Ittai’s jaws shook, and he blubbered, tears and snot mixed in his beard. “You know nothing about her.”

  “How dare you? I ought to cut your tongue out right here.”

  Ittai’s eyes remained steadfast. “You don’t accept her. You want her to be a certain way that only exists in your mind. You treat her as a possession, not a woman.”