Judah
Three weeks after the Dedication feast I rode home with my brothers, all of whom were anxious to rejoin their families. I was anxious, too, but for a different reason—if I had reckoned correctly, Leah should be near her time.
I might have a son or daughter.
We moved confidently through the rocky slopes, then crossed the valley that led to Modein. The sky glowed orange and red in the colors of sunset, and a group of young cousins heralded our approach with shouts and the rowdy bleat of a ram’s horn. I smiled, imagining Leah’s surprise at the sound of the horn, and hoped she would come out to greet me with our baby.
We entered the village a few moments later. Neta, Morit, and Ona hurried out of their houses to greet us, but I saw no sign of my wife. Fear blew down my spine as I dismounted, then I spotted my mother emerging from my house, her face tight with concern. She lifted her hand to acknowledge me and pointed to a path that led away from the village center.
A sense of trepidation crept into my mood as I dismounted and followed her. Why would Mother lead me away from my house? Nothing of importance lay out here, only fields, a pasture, and the family tomb—
I halted as Mother walked to the tomb and placed her palms against the stone. She bowed her head for a moment, then turned to look at me.
“Your son is here,” she said. “Buried next to your father.” Her face wore a drawn, inward look, as if she were seeing an image of the child in the air between us.
My son. The child who might have followed in my footsteps . . .
My throat was so tight I could barely draw breath to speak, but I forced the words out: “Did Leah give him a name?”
Mother shook her head. “He died without having drawn breath.” She turned toward me, and the light in her eyes shone weak. “I am sorry, Judah.”
Grief welled in me, dark and cold, but somehow I found the courage to meet her gaze. “Is my wife—?”
“Leah lives,” Mother said. “But she is weak. She needs to regain her health.”
While I stood by the tomb, mourning my loss, Mother squeezed my shoulder, then turned and walked back to the village.