I dug into the
archives from about a decade ago for this one. I started this novel and got about fifty pages into it, but then shiny objects or something must have distracted me. The story here contains snippets from my attempt at a re-telling of an incident from the Hebrew
Scriptures found in 2 Kings 5:1-14.
Naaman, commander of the Army of Aram, was a “great man in high favor
with his master because by him the Lord had given victory.” Despite his prestige, wealth, and natural
skill as a commander, the equalizing force of leprosy leveled him. No one could help the mighty warrior with his
affliction. No one, that is, until, “a
young servant girl captive from the land of Israel,” who served Naaman’s wife,
approached her mistress and told her about Elisha. Elisha was a prophet of the God of Israel,
and was rumored to hold the power of the only One who could give what Naaman
sought. Eventually, Elisha instructed
Naaman to wash in the Jordan River; Naaman complied and was healed. In the Bible, the men are described in
detail. The women, including the servant
girl, are unnamed.
* * *
Eliana crouched in
the grove of olive trees, waiting. She
stealthily crawled from tree trunk to tree trunk, hoping the lengthening
shadows of twilight would hide her completely.
She silently cursed her skirt for rustling the short, stubby grass. Silence was key to her mission. Sensing her prey approaching, the lioness
pounced.
“Bah!” she yelled, jumping on to her brother
Jesse’s back and pulling him to the ground.
Jesse screamed like their little sister Chedva and dropped the basket of
olives he was carrying. Eliana rolled
onto her back and laughed until she hiccupped.
Jesse picked up a handful of the scattered olives and pelted her head,
but it only made her laugh harder. Even
after Jesse dragged Eliana to her feet and made her help him pick up all the
olives, she was still giggling.
“Eli,
I’d be careful. Brave girls marry ugly
old men,” said Jesse.
“A
girl doesn’t have to be brave to scare you.”
“Well,
a snake in your bed doesn’t have to be brave to scare you either.”
“Mother
would have your hide!”
“Maybe. But remember—I know where you sleep.”
Eliana
laughed again. She knew Jesse might be
good as his word when it came to snakes in one’s bed. She also knew that snakes rarely stayed where
you put them and if it ended up under Chedva’s blanket, Jesse would have extra
chores until he married (and possibly until he gave their parents a third
grandson).
“Shhhh. Stop,” Jesse said suddenly. He grabbed Eliana’s arm and pulled her behind
a tree at the end of the grove.
“Oh
stop it. I’m sorry about scaring
you.” Eliana wrestled out of Jesse’s
grip.
“No! Hush.
Listen.” Jesse’s whisper came out
thick, worried. Eliana strained her ears
against the darkness. On top of the
gentle evening breeze, there came a faint noise like a horn’s call. Heavy, ominous sounds reverberated off of far
off walls.
“What
is that?” Eliana asked.
“They’re
coming again. Come, we must warn
father!” Jesse dropped his basket and
held Eliana’s hand as they ran.
* * *
The men marched by
shoulder-to-shoulder, wearing hard plates on their chest and funny hats on
their heads. Eli watched their feet move
simultaneously, in perfect synch. There
were eight men across in a line, but when you looked at their feet, you could
see only a singular pair of legs moving in rhythm. Eli huddled closer to Jesse and gripped
Chedva's shoulders. All three of them
were standing behind their mother. Their
father had been called away to stand with the other dads and older brothers
across the road. Eli strained her neck
to see, but all she could see was the snaking line of the strange men who moved
together.
Suddenly, the
soldiers stopped. There was a break in
their formation. A man in more richly
colored clothes stood out in a line by himself.
"Hear me!" The man screamed.
"This land belongs to the king of Aram."
"Mama,"
whispered Chedva. "Mama, where is
daddy?"
"Shhhhh,"
her mother scolded.
"You here
have been given the honor of serving our King.
Bow before his loyal servants, your protectors!" The man's voice boomed off of the soldier's bodies. Eli thought it seemed to shake the ground
itself. There was nervous twittering
amongst the women and children. Bow? To these men?
The ones who marched through their peaceful village? It had been only a few days since the
soldiers had arrived this time, but the mood of the whole village had
changed. Before you could only hear
animals rustling in the grass and trees.
Now there were distant cries and screams.
"I said
bow!" The man's face took on a
horrible red shade. He was growing
angry--Eli could tell, but she did not know why. Around her, women began to wearily sink to
the ground. The children followed their
mothers. Eli remained standing as long
as she could, to see if she could see her father. Fortunately, he was standing right in the
break in the shoulders. Eli smiled and
almost waved, but her mother pulled her down to the ground.
"Ooph,"
Eli grunted. She glared at her mother
and rubbed her hands. She lifted her
head up high and again saw her papa. She
was very far away, but Eli thought he had a very strange look on his face. His eyes and nose were red, and his beard
glistened like it was wet. She tried to
smile at him, to let him know it was all right.
"I can be strong like mama," thought Eli.
"Now servants
of the King of Aram!" Boomed the man.
"Some of you are so fortunate as to come back home with
us." Mama gasped. Eli wondered if the man would take papa to be
a soldier. He was still young and good
shape. But the man turned to face the
women and children. He pointed to a few
of the soldiers. "Pick strong
ones."
The soldiers
strode toward the huddled, frightened group.
Eli's mother pushed Chedva out of sight behind her and gripped Eli and
Jesse to her sides. Still the soldiers
came.
* * *
Eliana
shivered against the darkness. Nights
got colder here than they did at home, and Eli did not have her mother’s woven
blankets or her sister to keep her warm.
She curled her legs up to her chest and gripped her knees so hard her
knuckles turned white. The only thing warm
about this restless place were the tears rolling down her cheeks. Eli heard soft groans coming from others in
the small room and wondered if their dreams made them fight sleep as well. Eli had lost track of how long it had been
since she’d been brought to this awful place up north. Thoughts of her mother’s wails, her father’s
helpless please to take him instead, her sister and brother’s stony silence
from that horrible day still tumbled through her mind nonstop. She wondered if the large men with terrible
looking weapons had taken anyone else she knew.
She wondered why she had been
the one plucked from the frightened mass.
She wondered if she’d only know the hard, scary places in the world from
now on.
The
next day dawned with a harsh glow. Eli
had somehow managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep for a few hours, but
now, she hurried with the dozen other women to tidy their sleeping room. Soon, they would begin their day in service
to the army. Suddenly, the door swung
open and two men came in. The women
froze, the men’s hungry gaze turning them into statues.
“You,”
said one of the men, pointing to a young woman who looked to be several months
pregnant. He turned and surveyed the
rest of the dirty, frightened group. Eli
silently whispered prayers that the men ignore her, to the God her mother
promised was always listening. As if
hearing the thoughts in Eli’s head, the soldier swung and stared directly at
her. “And you.” As the men pushed Eli and the pregnant girl
out into the blinding sun, Eli kept praying.
* * *
Nehama
groaned and arched her back as her body spasmed in pain. Eliana shifted the rolled up cloths to try to
make her more comfortable. A breeze
rustled the tent flaps and made the candles flicker. Dim shadows danced all around.
"Eli,"
Nehama said. Eli slid closer and put her
hand on her friend's forehead.
"Shhhhh,"
she whispered. "It will be all
right."
Just
then, Eve the midwife and two other servant women came into the tent where
Eliana was sure she was unsuccessfully trying to help Nehama.
"Stand
back, young one," Eve said to Eli.
"No!"
screamed Nehama, her body shaking again.
Eve
paused a moment but then pushed Eliana gently to the side. "You can stay close," she
said. "But you must let me
work." Eli nodded. She crawled on her hands and knees and took
Nehama's head on her lap. She stroked
her hair and shoulders. Nehama looked up
into Eli's eyes and Eli tried to look much braver than she felt. The midwife pushed on Nehama's belly and then
took her thighs into her large, thick hands.
Eve looked up, "How long has she been like this?"
"Since
it was light out. Around midday she fell
to the ground because it hurt to stand.
I was allowed to stay with her here and someone went to find you. It is dark now, so it must have been
hours." Eve nodded and
frowned. Eli couldn't tell if this was
because of what she had said or because of something else. Eve turned to the other women. "It is time."
Sarai
and Rebeccah, the servant women, each took one of Nehama's legs. The women's faces were kind and they did not
look scared. Eli wondered if they had
birthed children of their own. Maybe
they had just helped deliver them.
"Child," Eve said firmly.
Eli looked up. "Now we
push." Nehama closed her eyes and
screamed as the two women leaned into her feet.
Eli shook and tears rolled down her face involuntarily.
"Child,
your screaming will wear you out. Use
your breath to push out the baby.
Breathe in Ruah, breathe out
your child." Nehama opened her eyes
and looked at Eli.
"You
can do it," Eli said, looking down at her friend.
"I
can't," Nehama whimpered.
"Yes
you can," Eli said. "You are the strongest of all of
us. You carried this baby every day
through all of our work. Even when your
feet were swollen you wouldn't slow down.
You're a mother now. My
grandmother used to say that mother's are the strongest of all God's
creatures." Nehama closed her eyes
and nodded. She reached her arms above
her head. Eli clasped them to her
chest.
"Get
ready child," Eve said.
"Remember Ruah." Eli held tightly to Nehama's hands. She drew in her breath and willed any
strength she had to pass through her body in Nehama's. "Our tears are our prayers, God,"
Eli prayed. "Hear each
one."
This
time the women all pushed and breathed as one.
Nehama let out her breath and yelled in pain, but it was drawn out with
effort and control. "Again,"
Eve commanded. Over and over they
worked, until Eli felt light headed from the effort. She wondered how anyone did this, how the
human race didn't just quit multiplying from the sheer impossibility of the
task.
Finally,
what seemed like years later (but was probably more like hours), a new sound
pierced the air. A high, fragile cry
flew up to heaven, to signal its arrival onto earth. Eve held up the shrieking creature. It looked shriveled and purple by the
candlelight. The midwife stuck her
finger down its throat while the other two women helped deliver the
afterbirth. Nehama, too exhausted to
scream, just propped up her head to see the baby. "It's a boy," said Eve,
smiling. Eliana heart leapt at the
news. She was still sitting with
Nehana's head in her lap and had long ago lost the feeling her in legs from
staying there so long. But it didn't
matter. Because Nehama had a son.
"Can
I hold him?" Nehama asked. Eve paused.
She looked at the baby a moment with a sad, complicated look on her
face.
"It
would be better if you didn't, little one.
You need to rest."
"Please. He's mine.
He's all I have. He . . ." She was also too tired to cry.
"Please,
Eve. She has the rest of the night for
sleep." Eli said. Finally Eve nodded. Eli slid forward and helped prop Nehama up a
little. Eve placed the bundle in
Nehama's arms. Nehama ran her finger
along the baby's soft, pink check.
"He's
perfect," she whispered. Her son,
who had been crying since his entrance into the world, grew quiet. Nehama began humming a song and kept stroking
the baby's face. Eli leaned over her
shoulder to get a better look at him. Nehama turned and kissed her on her cheek.
"I want to name him Josiah. After
my father. It is a good, strong
name."
Just
then, a horn sounded outside the ten.
The women were startled and the baby woke up and screamed again. Eve and the women who had been cleaning
Nehama and straightening up the tent, got up and went outside to see what was
going on. Voices carried on the night's
breeze, which had turned chilly. Eli
moved and pushed cloths under Nehama's back.
She stumbled when she tried to get up, pins and needles sticking her
stiff legs. She got a blanket and
covered Nehama and the baby. The voices
grew louder outside, angrier. But even
though she crept back over to the tent's flap, she couldn't make out what they
were saying.
Nehama
hummed Josiah back to sleep. She shifted
until she was lying down and feel asleep as well. Eli, who could sense something was wrong
outside, remained standing. The candles flickered and went out.
Soon
Eve came back in the tent. Sarai and
Rebeccah stood holding the entrance open, each holding a torch. Eve kneeled down and took the sleeping
Josiah.
"Where
are you taking him?" Eli whispered urgently. "Shouldn't you tell Nehama?"
"She
needs to rest," Eve whispered back.
"She
can rest with him."
"No,
child." Shadows shifted outside the
tent.
"Move,
old woman," a man's voice said from outside. "We haven't got all night."
"Surely,"
another voice said, "You wouldn't want us to seek sport with you." Harsh chuckles erupted. Nehama stirred.
"What
. . ." she started to say.
"Shhhhh. Hush." Eve said. She left the tent with the baby.
"Here
he is. Ten fingers, ten toes."
Eli
rushed to get out of the tent. Sarai and
Rebeccah put there hands out to stop her.
"Where's
my son?" Nehama called from the ground.
"Don't
worry, mouse," said the man's voice.
"He is going to live in a palace far grander than this.” Again the laughter. The shadows moved away as footsteps brushed
away into the darkness.
"What's
going on?" Nehama asked, sitting
up. "Where are they taking my son?" With each word, Nehama's voice grew more
desperate.
"Please
child," Eve said firmly.
"Please. Don't make a
fuss. You know he's a baby of a
soldier."
"What?"
Nehama screamed. "The man who did
this . . . he is no longer here. He went
away with his men. He did not want to
marry me. He is no father. He just . .
." her voice broke. "He . .
." Nehama choked as sobs came up
from deep inside her chest. She put her
head in her hands and wailed.
"Shhhh,"
Eve tried to soothe her. "Don't let
them hear you, child. You son will have
a better life. He will live free! It is better this way."
Eli
dropped to the ground. She curled
Nehama's body, which was still bleeding from the birth, into her arms. "How can it," her own voice
quivered with tears, "be better . . . if he's . . . not here with
us?" Nehama drew her breathe in
sharply and wailed.
"It's
what it is, child." Said Eve. "God sees all things. God will look after the baby."
Eli
buried her face in Nehama's shoulder.
She cried with her friend. She
tried to pray that God look after them, too.
But she found she had nothing to say.
* * *
Master
Naaman had not been doing well for several weeks. Everyone in his household knew this,
especially the servants who had to clean his sores and change his bed
dressings. It was because of this a
thought had been nagging Eli for days, but she didn’t dare speak it. One morning, as she helped Nehama scrub their
mistress’s basin, she wondered aloud, “Do you think the master knows of
Elisha?”
Nehama
did not stop scrubbing. “No, why would
he? His armies don’t stay in the land
long enough to chat with the people, now do they?” She chuckled.
“I
don’t know. The cooking in my village
was so good, they wanted to take brides and live with our families! They loved our wine so much, we had to coax
them back to their king!” Eliana and
Nehama laughed. But Eli quickly turned
somber again. “I think I should tell
them.”
“Tell
who what?”
“Tell
the master—or at least the mistress, that we know someone who can cure the
sickness.”
“You’d
be whipped for talking to the mistress!
And who knows what they’d do to us if Elisha didn’t help . . .” she
trailed off. She and Eli scrubbed in
silence. Eliana wondered what she should
do. She wished for the thousandth time
since she’d been brought here that she had her father’s courage, or her
mother’s strength. But she didn’t. Worse, her parents were worlds away from
helping her now.
* * *
Eliana crept
slowly, quietly down the hall. The Commander’s
home was a huge building, the biggest Eli had ever seen in her life. She could dawdle in its nooks and crannies
forever, though she never dared before.
Her job was to do her work, be invisible, and get out as quickly as
possible. To attract attention was to
invite unfortunate consequences. Today,
however, was different.
The
room where the commander’s wife spent most of her day lay at the end of Eli’s
trek. She’d have to pass through the
carved wooden door with a curved handle.
The door, that Eli had always thought was so beautiful, today loomed
large, heavy. Eli carried with her soft
bedclothes to deliver to the chamber.
Eli approached her feet growing heavier with ever step. She stood stock still just outside it. Somehow, with a will summoned from places
she’d never recognized until now, she lifted her arms and gently tapped several
times.
“Come,”
said a voice from within. Eli opened the
door, kept her head down, and set the sheets down next to the bed. She lifted her eyes a fraction of an inch up
and saw that the mistress was alone, standing at the open window looking
out. Eli heard the mistress sigh. Eli drew in her breath and took a step
forward. The mistress turned. Eli turned just as quickly, head down,
towards the door. She put her hand on
the ornate handle and was just to push through when she stopped. She drew her breath in again and turned. She raised her head up. The mistress was looking right at her.
“Forgive
me, mistress” Eli said. “I know that I
will be punished for forgetting my place.”
The mistress said nothing, only stared at Eli, her mouth hanging open
slightly. “But I think I know someone
who can help master Naaman.”
The
mistress remained silently staring. Eli
had never gotten a good look at her before this. She noticed that the mistress wasn’t very old
herself. Eli had just turned 13; she
doubted that the mistress was more than a few years older than that.
“What?”
the mistress said.
“Ma’am,
please.” Eli said. “Where I come from,
among my people, there are prophets. Men
to whom the God of Israel speaks directly.
There is one, called Elisha, whom God favors. If master Naaman would go to him, Elisha
could cure him. I know it.”
Eli
looked back down at the floor. She had
grown used to being invisible. She
didn’t know how to deal with being the center of attention.
“Girl,”
said the mistress slowly. “Do you know
that I could have you whipped for talking to me? Or do anything I like to you?”
“Yes
mistress.”
“And
still you tell me this?”
“Yes,”
Eli said weakly. She looked up, fighting
back tears.
The
mistress sunk onto a chair. She stared
out into space for a long time. Eli
waited, unable to move. Finally, the
mistress rose.
“We’d
only been married a few months when he became ill,” she smiled sadly. “But in those months I knew I could love only
him.” She walked to Eli and took her
chin in her hands. “And you believe your
prophet will heal my husband.”
“Yes
mistress.” Eli inhaled the mistress’
sweet perfume. It’s gentle warmth
reminded Eli of the way her grandmother smelled. She wanted to stay there and breathe it in
forever.
“Well,
then. Either you are a very brave or a
very foolish girl.” The mistress let go
of Eli’s chin. “Let us both hope you are
the former.” The mistress opened her
chamber door. “Go now. Pray that your Elisha is who he say he is.”
Eli
bowed and followed the queen out of the room.
She returned to the servants tents where Nehama was waiting. “Now what?” Nehama asked.
“I
don’t know,” said Eli.
* * *
Fiction by @alkisner .
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