DAYS MELTED INTO WEEKS, and weeks into months as my time with Delilah passed. On warm afternoons, while she worked at her loom and the road appeared empty of travelers, Yagil and I went hunting. The boy loved to follow in my footsteps and crouch behind me as we waited for a hare to cross our path. We hunted badgers and rabbits and jackals, and once I even killed an old lion while the boy watched, his eyes wide.
I had my own reasons for hating the Philistine who fathered Delilah’s child, but Yagil was a sweet-natured lad, not given to complaining or laziness. He had learned to entertain himself, so he was rarely underfoot, but preferred to play outside—sailing little boats in the irrigation trenches or exploring the area with his dog. I was happy to take him deeper into the wilderness and help him learn what a boy needed to know.
One afternoon we tracked a rabbit that seemed to lead us in circles, then we paused beneath a shelter of oaks to rest. We were only a short distance from home, but I thought Yagil might like to avoid the stuffy house and nap outside, so I spread my cloak on the ground and offered it to him. “You might want to lie down and take a rest.”
“I’m not tired,” he said, sitting on my cloak, legs bent, back straight. He shot me a curious look. “What are you going to do?”
“Think,” I told him. “I want to think up a verse for your mother.”
His nose crinkled. “What do you mean?”
“Something like . . .” I closed my eyes. “She rose at dawn . . . and dropped her eyes upon—”
“You can’t drop your eyes.” Yagil frowned in stern disapproval. “They’re stuck in your head.”
“Unless you are careless.” I held up a warning finger. “I knew a man who lost an eye when he ran into the path of a slingshot. That’s why you should always be very careful.”
Yagil’s eyes went round. “Could he still see?”
“Aye, he had one eye left. But after that he didn’t want to hunt anymore.” I closed my eyes again. “She rose at dawn and dropped her gaze upon the bed where we last slept.”
“Better.” Yagil grinned. “But why isn’t she looking for breakfast?”
“Because she isn’t hungry.” I reached over and ruffled his hair. “Now be quiet while I learn this verse—I didn’t bring parchment for writing.” I looked at a tree and recited the line again: “She rose at dawn and dropped her gaze upon the bed where we last slept.”
“Thinking,” Yagil said, stretching out on my robe, “is hard work.”
I chuckled. “That it is. Now, what else do I want to say about your mother?”
“She makes good stew,” Yagil suggested, his eyelids drooping.
“I will have to use that. Might be perfect for the second line.” I glanced over at him again and saw that the fringe of his lashes had lowered. He was asleep. Finally.
I sighed and contemplated my verse, but my attention wandered in the rare silence. What was I doing in this place? Though I had fallen in love with the woman and her son, I did not believe I would fulfill my destiny in the Valley of Sorek. Adonai had not sent His angel to my parents to announce that I would fall in love with Delilah.
I lifted my eyes to the wide horizon as memory brought a twisted smile to my face. The angel of Adonai told my mother I would begin to deliver Israel from the Philistines, and what had I accomplished so far? Not much. I’d killed thirty in Ashkelon, a handful in Timnah, and a thousand in Lehi. But the Philistines had not gone away. My strikes against them had only resulted in more suffering for Israel, so how was I supposed to deliver my people?
“There you are.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rei coming along the path. “You are not easy to find.”
“Maybe”—I kept my voice light—“I didn’t want to be found.”
“Ah, Samson.” He chuckled. “I will always be able to find you.” He dropped to the earth beside me, then jerked his thumb toward the sleeping boy. “Has he given you any trouble?”
I shook my head. “He’s a nice lad. Easy to like.”
“If only Israel were as compliant. I saw at least half a dozen statues of Baal on my walk.” Rei wrapped his arms around his bent knees. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
“Of what?”
I shrugged. “I am supposed to begin to deliver my people from the Philistines, but my people don’t want me to do anything for them. You remember what happened at Rock Etam.”
“Your people are asleep. They will awaken at the proper time.”
“Really? And who will wake them?”
Rei gave me an easy, relaxed smile with a good deal of confidence behind it. “Know this, Samson—Adonai never wounds His people without also making preparation for their healing. You were conceived when the Philistines arrived. You are the answer to their oppression.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I kicked at a pile of dirt near my feet. “I have accomplished nothing of significance.”
“Shouldn’t that judgment be reserved for HaShem?”
I had no answer for that, so I remained silent.
“Do you think you’re the only one Adonai has prepared?” Rei continued. “Surely you’ve heard the stories about our high priest. A few years after you were born, Adonai answered another barren woman’s prayer. She gave birth to a boy and consecrated him to Adonai, just as your mother did you.”
I snorted. “I suppose he has also forsworn razors.”
“Along with wine, yes. He lives in Shiloh and serves Adonai with extraordinary strength, though his strength is not like yours. Adonai will use both of you to free Israel. You may not see the end of the occupation, but you can trust that freedom for Israel is part of the Lord’s plan.”
“And Israel is the apple of HaShem’s eye.” I tilted my head and studied Rei, who rarely spoke so openly. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth? You could be saying these things to lift my dour mood.”
“And when have I ever done that?” Rei’s grin flashed, dazzling against his olive skin. “Adonai does not whisper obscurities, Samson. He would not have told the people of Israel to seek Him if he could not be found. What He said, He will do, both for you and for the prophet in Shiloh.”
The reminder that other men also shared the burden of leadership alleviated some of my distress. For years I had imagined myself alone in my task, but if Adonai was also using another man with long plaited hair, maybe the responsibility wasn’t as heavy as I feared.
I glanced at Rei. “This other Nazarite, has he won any victories?”
Rei gave me a small, tentative smile. “He doesn’t count victories like you do. But do you remember when the army of Israel tried to throw off the Philistine yoke in the latter days of Eli the high priest?”
“I’d hardly count that a victory. Our people were slaughtered and the Ark of the Covenant stolen.”
“Yet that is when the Nazarite Samuel became our high priest. When he was small, he learned how to listen for the voice of Adonai. He was our spiritual leader when the Philistines placed the Ark in Ashdod’s Temple of Dagon.”
I couldn’t stop a smile. “I remember hearing about that. Dagon fell on his face before the Ark, and his hands and feet were cut off.”
“Exactly. Samuel was praying during that time. Because the hand of Adonai moved against the people of Ashdod, they sent the Ark to Gath, but the hand of Adonai afflicted the people of that city, too. So they sent the Ark to Ekron—”
“And those people panicked.” I grinned at the thought of the Philistines’ fear. “My father knew one of the men who was in the field when the Philistines sent the Ark back to us.”
“Didn’t he feel a deep and abiding joy when the Ark returned to Israel? Didn’t you?”
I looked at Delilah’s sleeping son, then sighed. “I’m afraid I gave little thought to Philistines in those days. I was more concerned with crops and flocks.”
“And women.” Rei chuckled. “You have always been a man with—”
“An eye for beautiful things,” I finished. “Surely there’s nothing wrong with appreciating God’s glorious creations.”
“Not as long as those glorious creations are yours to appreciate,” Rei countered. “You should be more careful. Some women are like suckerfish. If you catch one, there are sure to be ugly things attached. Consider your present woman—”
“Keep Delilah out of this.” I lifted a warning brow. “She is beautiful in every way.”
“Really?” He gave me a bland look, with only a twitch of his eye to reveal that he knew he was treading dangerous ground. “Can you see into her heart? Do you know the sort of person she is beneath that lovely exterior?”
“I know her,” I insisted. “I have lived with her for months, and I know her.”
“Really? Tell me about her.”
I frowned at him, skeptical of the motivation behind his request, but his expression remained open and guileless.
“Delilah,” I began, “is as courageous as any man I’ve ever met in a fight. Once she decides to do or make something, she sets to work with fierce determination, not quitting until she’s reached her goal.”
“Fierce determination,” Rei said. “How feminine.”
I ignored his jibe. “In quiet moments,” I went on, “if she’s talking to me or the boy, she can be sweetness itself. The veneer of determination falls away, and I see a young woman who is struggling to rise up from the ashes of loss. But she loves me. With all my flaws, she loves me completely.”
“Ah, Samson.” Rei’s squint tightened. “If woman is man’s greatest help, she is also his greatest danger.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you can figure that one out.” He tilted his head. “Here’s another riddle for you. What do you get when you squeeze a lemon?”
I blinked, surprised by the riddle’s simplicity. “Lemon juice.”
“I’m afraid not.” Rei stood. “When you squeeze a lemon, you get whatever is inside. So make sure she loves you as much as you love her.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave me a knowing smile. “And I thought you were the puzzle master.”