“Marriage?” Laban said, puzzled. Did the old man have wedding counsel for him at this late hour?
“Yes, marriage. I have decided to marry again.”
Laban choked and coughed in surprise. Then collecting himself, he asked, “May I ask who is to receive this great honor?”
Again Nazzim laughed. “Of course, that’s why I’ve come to you. I am an old man but rich. I can give great favor to those I choose.” As he said this he leaned over and tapped Laban on the arm. He didn’t smile but instead grimaced and nodded with a knowing look.
Laban was more puzzled than ever. He couldn’t imagine what he might have to do with Nazzim’s getting married. If the old scoundrel wanted help, he would give it gladly. He quickly sifted through the possible meanings and could think of nothing. “You are very generous,” he said at last. “I’ll do anything I can to help you find the happiness you seek.”
Nazzim sucked in his breath and worked his lips back and forth over his toothless gums; a cunning look came on his face. Laban had seen this look before when he was about to make a clever bargain. “Then it is settled.”
Laban squirmed uneasily. “Everything is settled but to find who the lucky woman is.”
“Of course, of course, I can’t expect you to presume so much. How could you possibly guess? Quite simply, it’s your sister.”
“My sister!” Laban could not keep the surprise from his voice.
“Yes, I believe her name is Rebekah. Strange name. They say she is a beauty and yet is not lazy.” Nazzim’s small eyes settled on Laban as if waiting for some expression of his pleasure.
Laban squirmed uncomfortably. He smiled a forced, stiff smile and stared at Nazzim. The man was as old as Haran and more feeble. He smelled of musty grain, garlic, and rotting flesh. Rebekah would never go along with such an arrangement if she could help it. It would be very difficult to persuade her. However, he could see many advantages.
It was almost as though the old goat-god beneath the stairs had answered their prayers in record time. Someone rich, they had asked, and who in all the area was as rich as Nazzim? If Rebekah married the old man, he began to think, what wealth they would control. With his marriage to the daughter and her marriage to the old father, they would soon be in charge of everything the old man owned.
There had always been a problem when marriage to Rebekah was discussed with other young men and their families. They all expected, even insisted, that any young woman they would consider must first participate in the secret fertility rites at the temple of the goddess. Above all else they wanted a bride who would produce children, and such rites were deemed an absolute necessity. The family of Terah had always managed to cleverly evade these demands by marrying their women within the family. However, with Rebekah there were no young men available within the family.
Now Laban looked closely at Nazzim. He had sons and daughters by his many wives and there was a slight chance he would not feel so strongly about the fertility rites. If he really wanted Rebekah, it was possible he would not insist on the offensive rituals.
Laban felt he must somehow manage this. What did it matter that he was old and repulsive? He was so feeble he was not likely to last a year. “I am honored, greatly honored,” Laban stammered as he smiled.
“There is one thing you must do for me first,” Nazzim said. “The fertility rites in the temple are not necessary, but it is important that I see her before we draw up the final agreement.”
Laban was elated. The old man must have heard from his daughter about the problem of the fertility rites, and he was willing to marry Rebekah without that requirement. He smiled and then quickly frowned. To grant the old man’s request to see Rebekah would be very difficult to manage. “Rebekah is sometimes out with my father’s sheep and you could …” he began hesitantly.
“No, no, no, I am too old to go running about after a pretty shepherdess. It must be something less troubling, something easier.”
“You could just happen to be riding by the well at the time the women go out to fill their jars.”
Here Nazzim was even more emphatic. He shook his head and muttered a few well-chosen curses. “My son, until now you have been extremely clever. I have been impressed with your understanding of difficult situations.”
“If you must see her …” Laban dared not show his impatience, but he was getting more and more frustrated.
“To be wise, my son, you must learn to study the facts. The facts will always lead to the solution.”
“The facts?”
“Exactly. If you had said, ‘Nazzim has hurried here today. There must be some urgency about his request.’ Then if you followed with what day it is and what is going to happen this evening … you would find an easy solution.”