WHEN BREAKFAST WAS FINISHED KATA SET RAHAB AND Atene to work cleaning. This house would never be the same as her house in the country, but she was determined to get every speck of dirt that had accumulated over the years out of the floors and the walls.
Her mother liked to clean but Rahab did not. As she worked, her thoughts were far away. What was Sala doing today? Would she get to see him? She hoped her mother wouldn’t want to stay home and clean all day or she would never have a chance of running into him in the city.
They had only been at work for an hour before Mepu came to tell his wife that the women should get dressed, they were going out. Rahab’s heart leaped at this news.
Kata put her pail down with a thump. “We are cleaning the house, my husband.”
“You can clean the house anytime, Kata. It’s a beautiful day today—not hot, not cold. A day to be outside.”
“Where are we going, Father?” Atene asked, looking up from the floor she had been scrubbing.
“We are to meet with the Israelites in the same place where we saw them yesterday.”
Rahab’s heart jumped.
“The Israelites?” Atene was surprised.
“Yes. We have business to discuss. Don’t take forever to get ready. Shemu and I will be waiting for you in the front room.”
As Mepu disappeared down the stairs, Atene said to Rahab, “That’s odd. Why would the men want to take us with them if they are going to talk business?”
Rahab didn’t care if it was odd or not, all she cared about was that she was going to see Sala. She began to gather up the cleaning rags and tried to think which of her tunics would be most flattering.
Her mother said, “It is not for us to question your father. Go and get ready, girls, and don’t take too long.”
Rahab put on a freshly washed long tunic of white linen and gathered it at her waist with a wide blue sash. She took her favorite blue shawl downstairs so Atene could drape it gracefully over her left shoulder. Then she asked Atene to braid her hair. When Atene was finished, Rahab asked anxiously, “Do I look all right?”
Atene laughed. “You never ask about your appearance, Rahab. What’s gotten into you?”
Rahab turned away to hide the flush that colored her cheeks. “Nothing.”
The midday weather was cool and pleasant as the family made its way up the cobbled street. The wine shop they were heading for was located in the Lower City but only a few feet away from the walls that divided it from the Upper City. The street was busy but Rahab hardly noticed the people who crowded around her as she followed in the wake of her father. Her heart was beating fast and her stomach was fluttery. She had never felt like this before. She wanted to smile until her cheeks hurt, but she contained herself and trailed along behind her father and Shemu, trying to look unconcerned.
When finally they reached the wine shop designated for the meeting, Mepu went inside to see if the Israelites were there while Shemu waited outside with the women. When Mepu came back out, Sala was with him. Rahab could not contain her smile.
Mepu said to Kata, “It is too crowded inside for all of us, so Sala—Arut, I mean—will escort you to the south garden to wait for us.”
“Yes, my husband.”
The smile died away from Rahab’s face. Sala’s eyebrows were drawn together, forming a crease over his nose. Clearly he wanted to stay in the wine shop and not have to go with the women.
Kata said timidly, “I am sorry you have been inconvenienced by us.”
At Kata’s words the line disappeared from between Sala’s brows and he looked embarrassed. “I am sorry if I seemed ungracious. I am delighted to be of service to you ladies. I believe the garden is this way, so if you will come along . . .”
He began to walk toward the wide, shallow steps that led into the Upper City.
Rahab’s chin was up. He didn’t want to be with her. And she had been so joyful at the thought of seeing him! Angry and hurt, she let Atene step forward to walk beside him while she remained behind with her mother.
The garden was a charming spot of green in the midst of the great stone buildings that comprised the Upper City. It was situated on the south wall, a half-acre pocket of linden trees with stone benches set under their softly rounded canopies. A flagged walkway set the park off from the city streets.
Rahab spread her skirts and took a seat on one of the benches. Atene and Kata sat on a second bench to discuss a recipe. That left the seat next to Rahab for Sala.
Sala sat. Rahab stared straight ahead and ignored his existence. After a long silent moment he said, “Are you angry at me?”
“No.”
Silence again.
“Well then, why won’t you look at me?”
“You don’t want to be here with me so I thought you would appreciate it if I didn’t bother you with my chatter.”
More silence. A boy with a small wooden sword in his hand ran down the path in front of them. From the park area near the wall they could hear the sound of children’s voices.
Sala sighed. “Rahab, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you.”
She turned her head fractionally. “Then what is it?”
He looked back at her and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “It’s just . . . well, I am learning the business from my father and I thought I should listen to the discussion.”
“Oh.” She returned her head to its forward position. He had no interest in her, she thought dismally. What a fool she had been to think he might want to marry her. He didn’t even want to talk to her; he’d rather talk about business. She blinked hard and told herself fiercely she would not cry.
Two young men, obviously noble, were strolling toward them. One of them glanced at her casually and stopped.
Rahab looked at him in surprise.
He smiled. “I beg your pardon, I know it is rude of me to speak to you when we haven’t been properly introduced—”
Rahab didn’t care for the condescending note in his voice and was about to say so when Sala cut in. “You’re right, it is rude. I suggest you be on your way and leave the lady alone.”
Affronted, the young man turned his eyes to Sala. Rahab looked at him too. Her breath caught. He looked . . . dangerous.
The young man took a quick step back. “I meant no harm. Are you her brother? Your sister is beautiful.”
“I am her betrothed,” Sala said, “and my advice to you is to be on your way.”
The young man’s companion said, “Come along, Charzu. Don’t make trouble.”
The young man let himself be led away by his friend. As soon as they were out of sight, Rahab turned to Sala and said lightly, “I didn’t know we were betrothed. When exactly is our wedding day?”
Spots of color stained his high cheekbones. “I’m sorry, it was the best way I could think of to get rid of him.”
From the next bench Atene, who had observed the scene, said to Sala, “Everybody stares at Rahab. Even the prince noticed her yesterday from his chariot. He sent his friend to find out where she was staying.”
Sala’s brows snapped together.
Rahab wanted to tell Atene not to say such things, but fortunately Kata, who was seated on the other side of Atene, said something and Atene turned away. Rahab silently blessed her mother and turned once more to Sala.
He had swung around so his back was to the women and his body blocked Rahab’s face from their view. “Is that what you and your father are aspiring to then, the hand of a prince?”
She looked into his eyes, trying to decipher his mood. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. First of all, the prince would never stoop to marry a farmer’s daughter. And I wouldn’t marry him even if he wanted me to. I would suffocate having to live the rest of my life in this walled-up city.”
“I thought your father brought you here so he could find you a rich husband.”
“I have to marry somebody, Sala.” Rahab was all sweet reason. “That is what girls do with their lives.”
He looked down at his hands. “What kind of man do you want to marry?”
Rahab kept staring at him, not sure what she should answer. Should she expose her heart? She knew it would hurt her cruelly if he rejected her, but . . . if she did nothing, if she never let him know how she felt, then he might simply go away and she would have lost him forever.
That would be worse.
She held his gaze and said bravely, “I want to marry a man who can take me on a boat.”
Sala went pale. He swallowed. “Rahab.” His voice was unsteady. “No matter how you may feel, or how I may feel, you and I can never marry. My father would never permit it.”
Rahab ignored the last part of his statement and went right for the important part. “Do you want to marry me?”
“I’ve always thought of you as a child.” She could see he was trying to be as honest as she had been. “But then, when I saw you again yesterday . . . well, I realized that you are the reason I was never eager to marry any of my father’s choices. None of the girls were at all like you.”
Her heart began to sing. He does want to marry me. He loves me. That is all that matters. He loves me!
She put all of her happiness into her smile. “I have thought about you, Sala. I have always remembered you.”
But instead of looking happy, he looked anguished. “You don’t understand. My father—”
“I know there are obstacles, Sala. My father does not like Israelites and your father probably does not like Canaanites. But don’t you see, what is important is how we feel. Not them.”
“You have no idea of the obstacles, Rahab.” His face looked thinner, older. “If I were to marry a Canaanite woman, it would be as if I put a dagger through my father’s heart. Everything he believes—everything I believe—would be outraged by such a union. I am his only son, Rahab.” He shook his head. “I am his heir. I am to follow him not only in the business but also as Chazzan in our prayer meetings.”
Rahab could feel herself growing colder and colder as he spoke. “You are going to be a priest?”
“Not a priest. We have had no priests since our people became so separated. But in Ramac we have always met, to pray and to talk about our scriptures, and the leader is the one who can read those scriptures. I am the one whom everyone expects to replace my father someday. I cannot—”
He stopped talking and looked at her.
“Do you love me?” Rahab asked, feeling small and fragile.
There was a white line around his mouth and his nose looked pinched. “Yes,” he said.
“And I love you, Sala. You are the only man I wish to marry.”
“I wish we had never met again,” he said wretchedly.
I can’t believe this is happening. How can he be saying such things to me?
“I thought your father liked me,” she whispered.
“Yes, he liked you. But you are not an Israelite. He would think my marrying a Canaanite woman would forever defile me in the eyes of Elohim. I would be dead to him, Rahab. It would be as if I were dead.”
Rahab turned her face away. People were coming by them on the path, the children by the wall were calling out to each other in a game, and Kata and Atene were chatting about food. But for Rahab the world had changed.
I would defile him.
To her great relief, she heard Atene say, “Here come the men.”
Rahab jumped to her feet and everyone else followed. Suddenly all she wanted was to feel her mother’s love, and she went to stand close beside Kata. Her mother put her hand on Rahab’s arm and smiled at her. Rahab wished desperately that she was a child again and that her mother’s smile could make everything right. But that was no longer true.