The Sons of Isaac(25)

“I’m sure Barida will be upset.”

“Barida will be very upset. She needs to be upset. She’s already trying to control things.”

“Where could she have been going at this hour of the day?”

“I just talked to Barida. She was sending her to Nazzim.”

“To Nazzim?” His mother was puzzled.

“It’s obvious she intended to stop Rebekah’s good fortune. She wanted her father to come and put an end to all our plans.”

The mother’s hands flew to her face as a look of horror spread across it. “What’ll we do? What can we say? Nazzim’s very strong.”

Laban ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “There’s no time. Something must be done fast, but what?”

The two stood looking at each other. It all seemed quite hopeless. Sooner or later Nazzim would be sure to win. Stopping Barida’s maid gave them time, but so little time. If they were going to do anything, it would take much more time.

Laban shrugged. “I have to go tell Eleazar. He needs to know.” With that he turned and went slowly up the stone stairs that led to the roof where the men were still sitting. Laban found them reclining on the stiff woolen mats stuffed with straw, leaning on the cushioned armrests, and drinking his mother’s best fig wine. A slight breeze blew and the moon shown through the leaves of the grape arbor with a soft and magical light.

The men were asking questions and mulling over Eleazar’s astonishing answers. They were hearing more of their relative and his obvious success when Laban burst into their midst with his dire news.

“We have not been honest with you, my generous friend,” he said, looking at Eleazar directly. “My sister has been all but promised to a prominent, very wealthy old man, the father of my wife. It seems that my wife has already made one attempt to alert him to our plans, and we can be sure to hear of his violent reaction soon.”

Immediately everyone began to talk and to explain while Eleazar sat in a stunned silence. He could tell by their agitation that this was no simple problem. He had been so happy, so sure of God’s guidance and the rightness of all that had transpired. How could this have happened? He well knew the violent reactions of men like Nazzim and their families under such circumstances. It touched their honor at its most vulnerable point, and they would hurry to wreak the most terrible revenge. A wealthy, prominent older man would have resources and be able to devise torments undreamed of by the ordinary citizen.

They were all looking at Eleazer and he had no answers to give. He tried to think what his master, Abraham, would do under these circumstances, and he knew that he would insist there was no escape without prayer for guidance from Elohim. He looked around at their faces and saw that they had no idea of what this involved. They would think it complete foolishness, but he had no other answer to give. He stood and faced them. “I only know,” he said, “that I have been guided in a most miraculous way to your house and to your young maiden. Surely the God who guided me here will give us the wisdom we need to meet this difficulty.” With that he turned and went down the stairs to join his men sleeping out under the soft night air of the far courtyard.

Laban flung off his headgear in frustration and kicked the clay mugs of wine, making them spill across the tiles in a red streak. “The man is a fool to depend on some mysterious angel or his God. Nazzim has armed retainers and a host of the local gods to come to his aid. I have been foolish to entertain such plans for Rebekah. We will all be attacked one way or another.” With that he dashed for the stairs; taking them two at a time, he landed at the bottom not knowing what he should do. When he ventured into the far court, he found Eleazar and his men already sound asleep.

Laban paused by the door that led to the idol’s shrine under the stairs. From around the door came a sweet smell and small wisps of smoke. Laban realized that either his father or his grandfather had taken the matter into his own hands and had implored the old goat-man to intervene in this problem of Rebekah’s marriage.

He gently lifted the latch and opened the door a slight crack. In the dim light of the oil lamp, it looked as though the idol was smiling. “So you think you’ve won,” he muttered. “You aren’t afraid of Abraham’s God? We know what side He’s on. He wants our sister for this Isaac.”

Laban was about to close the door and go back to the roof when quite suddenly Nahor appeared out of the shadows. He was shuffling along and leaning heavily on his gnarled cane.

“So you’re wondering,” Nahor said, “who prepared the incense and lit the lamp and for what purpose.”