Thou bloody man, come out, come out,' that Shimei howled and jeered at me with vicious glee. The Lord hath returned upon thee all the blood of the house of Saul in whose stead thou hast reigned.'
What blood? What house of Saul? What was he talking about? And Absalom--he was not bloody? Oh, what a fall was there, that I should have to listen to this from him! He threw stones at me, that Shimei, that revolting jackal. He cast dust on my head. For a famous absolute monarch who, but a week before, was disposed to view himself in the polished mirror of his fancy as uncritically revered, the shocks and insults of which I now unexpectedly found myself the target were almost too grotesque to comprehend.
My nephew Abishai was incensed. 'Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king?' he said with livid face. 'Let me go across the road, I pray thee, and take off his head.'
I put a hand on his arm and said no. 'Let him curse,' I answered solemnly. 'Behold, my son Absalom, which came forth of my bowels, seeketh my life. How much more cause now may this Benjamite have to do it?'
'No cause, no cause,' said Abishai.
Where would Shakespeare have been without me? At a brick mold, maybe, or a potter's wheel. Who was it that loved not wisely but too well? Me and Bathsheba, or Othello and that wop? It's not for nothing that I was known as the sweet singer of Israel. I even made up that name.
And of what crimes against the house of Saul was he accusing me, David, the boy wonder, who had never raised a hand against my king or any in his family and in whose mouth it had long been said that butter would not melt?
'Fry, lechery, fry,' he cackled shrilly like a man possessed.
True, I had killed Uriah, but that was about all. And who the fuck was a repulsive gnome like Shimei to speak for God to me, when I had always been much closer to Him than anyone else in my time? And feel I still am, even though I think He may not be here anymore, and will not lower myself to speak to Him again until He eats crow like a man and apologizes like a decent human being for what He did to my dead baby. Who else but me can even justify the ways of God to man? The good Lord hasn't got a Chinaman's chance of surviving with His reputation intact if He leaves it to toadies like Nathan, who came sniveling up to me again after Shimei had stopped throwing stones and had been left behind. God talks to Nathan, Nathan says, but He doesn't always talk sense, if you're going to believe what Nathan tells you He talks about.
Nathan had been grumbling in his beard about me from the beginning, holding me responsible for everything bad that was occurring. As though I didn't already have enough troubles on my mind without him. We bickered and snapped at each other constantly, like two old farts near senility. Nathan doesn't like to walk. Now he blamed me for Shimei.
'Maybe the Lord has bidden him to do it,' I told him without looking up. 'You know, Nathan, there is a time to gather up stones, and a time to cast away stones.' My words did not impress him. 'There be three things that go well,' he informed me in his sulky way, straying off on a tack of his own.
'What are you bitching about now?'
'Yea, four are comely in going.'
'How many guesses do I have?'
'A lion which is strongest among beasts, and turneth not away for any.'
'Go on.'
'A greyhound.'
'That's a good one.'
'A he-goat also.'
'That's three.'
'And a king against whom there is no rising up.' He glanced at me smugly, smacking his lips.
'Nathan, Nathan, what are you trying to tell me?' I asked when he had finished. 'The finding out of parables is a wearisome labor of the mind.'
'My feet hurt.'
'Your feet hurt?'
'Yes.'
'Is that all?'
'Can't we stop?'
'We can't stop. Why couldn't you come right out and tell me your feet hurt? Do you always have to be so long-winded?'
'Does the rain have a father?'
'Another abstract question?'
'Or the lion roar when it hath no prey?'
'Nathan, my world is coming down around me in flames. Can't you give me a simple yes or no?'
'From a prophet you want a yes or no?'
'It's not possible?'
'Does the elephant go with the raven?'
'Must you always be such a pain in the ass?'
'There are three things that are never satisfied,' Nathan rejoined. 'Yea, four things say not, it is enough. Maybe five, even six.'
'The sixth would be a prophet like you with a listener like me.'
'My arches ache. My toes have blisters.'
'Do us both a favor. Go down ahead and ride on one of the asses.'
'I'm afraid I'll fall off.'
'Get someone to hold you.'
Nathan chewed a moment on the inside of his cheek. 'And I don't want to be near that slut.'
'What slut?'
'Your wife.'
'Which wife?'
'You're not going to trap me. You know which wife,' he challenged. 'You just want me to name her so you can take off my head because I know it's all your fault. You should have listened to me. You should have done exactly what I told you, to the letter.'
'You didn't tell me to do anything until it was already too late. How could I listen to you?'
'You should have listened anyway,' Nathan insisted. 'You should have guessed. That sounds mysterious? I'll show you mysterious. There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not. I'll tell you what I don't know. The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid. There, I said it, didn't I?'
'What did you say? What are you getting at this time?'
'Why did you have to keep fucking Bathsheba?'
'Did you tell me to stop?'
'Did I know this would happen?'
'You're a prophet, aren't you?'
'Not a fortune-teller. I only know when I'm told. And it's all coming true, isn't it?' he gloated. 'Everything I warned you about, the evil rising up against you from your own house, the neighbor with your wives in the sight of the sun. I was right, wasn't I? You wait. You just wait and see what Absalom does with those women you left behind.'
'Is this what you meant?' I answered him back. 'Why didn't you come right out and tell me you were talking about Absalom?'
'How did I know I was talking about Absalom? You shouldn't have taken Uriah's wife and you shouldn't have slain him with the sword of the children of Ammon, and that's all there is to that.'
'Why didn't you tell me that before I did it?'
'How did I know you w ere going to do it? And there are certain things you're supposed to know for yourself. Did I know you were going to send Uriah back to be killed? I had to be told, didn't I?'
'By who?' I questioned, levying upon him the full weight of my suspicions. 'Joab?'
'Joab?' He gaped at me as though I had taken leave of my senses. 'Don't be foolish. You know by who. God. Where does Joab come in?'
'Where is Joab?' I regarded him closely.
'Do I know?'
'Is he out there ahead somewhere, waiting to ambush us?'
'God forbid! ' Nathan cried out, almost screaming. His face turned ashen. 'It's all your fault,' he resumed berating me, and paused to sniffle and to choke down a sob. 'It will be on your conscience if anything happens to me. I blame only you, only you.'
'For three things, Nathan, the earth is disquieted,' I told him harshly, running out of patience at last. 'And for four which it cannot bear. For a servant when he reigneth, and a fool when he is filled with meat. For an odious woman when she is married, and a handmaid that is heir to her mistress. And worse than all four, put together, is a blubbering nuisance like you filled with whimpers and recriminations at a catastrophic time like this. Do you think I can worry about you? Go get more curses from God. Abishai! Abishai!'
I had Abishai transfer him far away from me to the front of our pathetic column, well out of
earshot and closer to Bathsheba, whom he'd vilified as a harlot, and with whom he is now in league. Misery makes strange bedfellows. I was sorry at last that Michal was dead. I would have relished placing him between the two of them. I began to torment myself with worries about Joab again. And I began to worry about his brother Abishai as well, suspecting him too of potential treachery.
Crazy as Saul in his deranged fixations about me, I was more and more certain that I detected the hand of Joab in Absalom's successful coup, until we neared the Jordan and I found him awaiting me in staunch support with a large body of mighty men he had mustered to serve me. After that it was only a matter of reaching the river and crossing over to safety. When that was accomplished and we were resting on the other bank, I knew with a sinking heart that Absalom would lose in a battle against me that I couldn't win.
Faithful Joab--how I hated the sight of him, even though he had turned up on my side, especially because he had turned up on my side. I was reluctant to believe my eyes. How sad I was for my son. And in those first few hours, I was more vexed to discover my doubts about Joab baseless than thankful for his loyalty and the military advantage he was supplying. I felt absolutely cheated by his failure to justify my worst opinions about him.
Crazy as Saul, I eyed him narrowly as we moved northward to Mahanaim in the land of Gilead to make our base, condemning him for perfidiously biding his time only to turn upon me at some predetermined location more propitious for him. But Joab turned not after Absalom, although he has turned now to the cause of Adonijah, in compliance with what he believes is my wish. It is my wish. But he did not trouble to ask me first. But that is Joab. He is, he has bragged to me, the straw that stirs the drink, and he has always done what he wanted to. He did not trouble to ask if I wanted Absalom executed. 'Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom' was the charge I had given for all the people to hear. 'Beware that none touch the young man Absalom,' I had repeated. Joab, ever more practical than I, disregarded my orders and put him to death.
He did me that favor I'll never forget. I have not been able to make whole sense out of him. He knows me too well to be enchanted by the mystiques of royalty and too long to be susceptible to the feelings of hero worship and idolatry I awake in people more distant from me who never make the effort to understand me at all. He does not believe I rule by divine right, and it would make no difference to him if he knew that I did. To him, all I've done is succeed--nothing more.
I am intrigued and annoyed by Joab now because in siding with Adonijah he evokes in me the triumphant notion that he may be losing his touch and might at last overstep himself. Joab is worldly enough to take into account the possibility from which I myself recoil, that in the end I will prove partial to my painted darling, Bathsheba, for reasons having nothing whatsoever to do with God, custom, or country. She gave me head. Whether it was good or not I can't judge; I can only tell you it was good enough for me. She sat on top of me with her knees bent and rode back and forth with her face red as cherries. She hated Absalom when he stood before Solomon, and Amnon too, and I could tell she was glad when each was out of the way. Recollections of past delights mean much to me now. Unsettled scores chafe more each day. I must kill Joab soon for what he did to Absalom, and for what he did to my pride by killing Abner and Amasa, although I probably will have to counterfeit a different reason.
I remember the sight of the runners with their messages from the battlefield. I knew they brought tidings of victory, for there were only two, and they were not part of a rout. Was my son Absalom safe?
'Blessed be the Lord thy God,' said the first to reach me, who proved to be Ahimaaz, the goodly son of my other priest, Zadok, falling down to the earth upon his face before me, 'which hath delivered up the men that lifted up their hand against my lord the king.' I knew that Ahimaaz the son of Zadok would not come running to me with news that was bad.
'Is the young man Absalom safe?' was the first question to come to my lips. He said he did not know.
Why had two runners been sent? I moved him aside, almost roughly, to make room for the other.
'Tidings, my lord the king,' said Cushi, the second, 'for the Lord avenged thee this day of all them that rose up against thee.'
'Is the young man Absalom safe?' I asked again, in a louder voice, feeling my confidence fail.
And the messenger Cushi answered me, 'The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is.'
He was letting me know in a roundabout way that my son was dead.
'O my son Absalom,' I wept with a loud and shattering grief I would not even try to subdue and made no effort to conceal. 'O Absalom, my son, my son.'
It was Joab who brought me around gruffly. He pulled no punches.
Thou lovest thy enemies,' he told me with hard contempt, in the chamber over the gate in which I had secluded myself. 'And thou hatest thy friends, who put out their lives this day to save you from them.'
What was I to do?
I put a brave face on the matter and went out to be seen by my servants. And once again, I wished Joab dead.
Crazy as Saul in the unremitting enmity he bore toward me, I have wished Joab dead a thousand times before and since, prayed he'd be taken in one of our plagues or fall dead from a stroke or from a blow at the hand of some enemy in the field. A thousand times I have been disappointed. Dismayed as crazy Saul, I have been brought to the conclusion that I will have to prescribe the deed myself if I surely want it done. The son of a bitch will probably live forever if I don't kill him soon.
That will not be an easy thing to do. No one lusting for blood is ever innocent. Or satisfied. I have not been innocent. Or satisfied. Just as the man who wants silver will not be satisfied with silver, a man who wants the blood of another will not be satisfied with having that blood, nor the woman with jewels be satisfied with jewels, and the man who wants women will not be satisfied with women. Don't try telling me different. Haven't I looked about me in the city and seen how all the labor of man is for the mouth, yet the appetite is not filled? Don't I know myself that no want is ever satisfied? Otto Rank can tell you why. Wishes are granted, goals attained. But wants? Forget them. They live as long as the person they inhabit.
Only with Abigail's crude churl of a husband did my wish for the death of someone come true in a timely fashion. Saul's, you know, took years and years. Nabal was very drunken from the feast he was giving in his house when Abigail returned after meeting with me. Abigail knew her comatose onion, and she waited till morning with the good news that destroyed him: I had spared his life. When he learned he had escaped being killed by my hand, the gross boor leaped to his feet with an exclamation of relief. Then he sank to the earth in a chilly sweat when he realized the close call he'd had and how lucky a man he was. His heart seemed to die within him, and he became as a stone. About ten days later he was no longer alive. Here was a man who died of joy.
'Blessed be the Lord,' I observed, and immediately sent and communed with Abigail to take her as wife.
She said yes.
She came with her damsels, and I learned from this poised and accomplished woman of Carmel how to live like a king.
There is a difference between riches and opulence. I learned that when I was king, when I had all that I wanted, and kept wanting more. That was vanity. All that was vanity.
'Oil and perfume make the heart glad,' Abigail taught me, seeing me happy and fulfilled in the tent with her.
My palace? Vanity. What's wrong with vanity? It doesn't satisfy.
Who can find a virtuous woman?
Her price is far above rubies. I know that from Abigail. She never let her lamp go out at night. She was good in discretion and beautiful in form. With her five winsome servants, she took care of the folding and raising of the tents wherever we pitched, and the tents she brought on the string of asses with which she had arrived to become my wife were of hand-woven goat's hair. She rose with her maidens while it was yet night
to begin giving meat to her household, and in the morning they ground wheat and barley grain into flour on a saddle quern to bake fresh bread. Even while circling about daily to elude the hand of Saul, we ate each evening from a cloth of scarlet or a cloth of blue on a low wood table, and not from a piece of leather on the dirt floor, as I was accustomed to doing. We often had partridge and flagons of wine. There was always time to take our evening meal leisurely. We ate by candlelight. She was clean and particular about her person. She appeared to me always with her lips and cheeks rouged and her eyes colored with malachite, galena, or powdered lapis lazuli, a flowing picture of stately feminine grace each twilight, with a gold net for her hair and her beads of amber and crystal. She slept with a bundle of myrrh between her breasts, and I slept with her. She decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen out of Egypt, and I was not ashamed that Joab and the other men about me noted with questioning disapproval that I tended to spend all night with her in the garden she made for me in her tent, every night.