Malkijah seemed shocked by her words, as if realizing for the first time that his son had caused Shimon’s death. “Was that why he died? It wasn’t from falling down?”
“I’m sure his broken hip contributed to his death. But he had been badly beaten, first. I don’t understand why Aaron didn’t simply subdue him or call for help. Shimon would have been no match for him.”
“Excuse me, Chana. I need to be alone.” He freed his hand from hers and strode across the field, climbing the upper hill to his terraced vineyard. Chana walked back to the house with the servant. The housekeeper led her to the room she and Malkijah would now share, and Chana helped the maids unpack her things. She remembered chatting and laughing with Yudit and Sarah as they’d helped her get ready to move, and she already missed having her sisters to talk with. She and Malkijah weren’t quite used to each other yet.
Chana didn’t see her husband again until that evening when she sat down to eat dinner with him and his sons. A drizzling rain fell, and the servants had moved the table inside the house. Malkijah was subdued as he talked quietly about the estate, telling Aaron and Josef what had been done in their absence and what remained to be done before the heavy winter rains began. Chana couldn’t read Aaron’s expression at all, but he seemed in a hurry to leave. “May I be excused from the table?” he asked the moment the meal ended.
“No, Aaron. There’s something we need to talk about. But you may be excused, Josef.” Malkijah waited until his younger son left, then said, “My chief shepherd, Shimon, died of his injuries yesterday.”
“So I heard.” Aaron looked nervous to Chana. He stared down at the table instead of his father, pinching the tablecloth into pleats with his thumb and forefinger.
“Tell me again what happened that night, Aaron.”
He slouched back into his chair with a sigh. “I looked out my window and saw him following that servant girl. When he started attacking her, I ran out to stop him.”
“Wait. You told me before that you were walking outside when you saw them.”
Aaron shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
“There’s a big difference. One of those versions is the truth and the other isn’t. I want the truth, Aaron. I’m trying to understand why my chief shepherd is dead. I’m told you hit him pretty hard.”
“All I did was shove him away from the girl, and he fell down.”
Malkijah rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward Aaron. “But the girl was lying on the ground when I arrived. How could Shimon attack her if he was standing up and she wasn’t?”
Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he pushed her down . . . or she fell.”
“I thought you saw the whole thing.”
“I can’t remember. It happened days ago.”
Chana could see that they were both growing angry, but Malkijah didn’t let up. “The servants said Shimon had bruises on his stomach from being beaten.”
“You believe them?” Aaron asked with a huff.
“Chana saw the bruises, too.”
“I took care of him that first night,” Chana said when they both turned to her. “He was in terrible pain and was bleeding on the inside from being punched so hard.”
“Maybe I did hit him. I don’t know—it all happened so fast. And that old man was a lot stronger than he looked.”
“You do understand that your actions caused Shimon’s death, don’t you?” Malkijah asked.
“I needed to stop him. I thought he was going to hurt the girl. . . . It was his own fault, Father. If he and the other servants hadn’t dreamed up that plot to frame me and accuse me, he would still be alive.”
“I’ve been talking with the other servants, and they told me they saw you trying to flirt with the girl in the vineyard a few days before. They said you made her sit beside you while you ate, and she wasn’t very happy about it.”
“That’s when I found out she’s not an innocent young girl. She told me she knew that I would have to marry her if I was with her . . . that way.”
Chana could no longer keep quiet. “Her name is Nava,” she said. “I’ve spoken with her, too, and she has no interest in marrying you. She’s in love with a young man named Dan. They hope to marry when her six years of service here have ended.”
“Then she probably thought you would have to set her free if she staged this whole thing to make me look guilty.”
Malkijah was quiet for a long moment before saying, “Your story keeps changing, Aaron.”
“I don’t know why the servants did this to me or what they were after!” he said, gesturing wildly. “You need to question them, not me.”
“I already did. But right now I want to know if you’re sorry at all for what happened to Shimon.”
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yes, Aaron, it was your fault for being so rough on an elderly man. For letting your temper get the best of you. As the proverb says, a man who lacks self-control is like a city whose walls are broken down.”
“It happened so fast.”
“So you said. And now Shimon is dead.” Malkijah’s voice broke on the last word.
Aaron looked away. “You believe the servants instead of me, don’t you?” he said sullenly. “Your own son!”
“I don’t know whom to believe, but one of my most trusted servants is dead—a man I admired a great deal.”
“You admired a servant? We’re noblemen, Father. We’re better than they are.”
“You’re wrong, Aaron. And if I’ve planted that prejudice in you, or nurtured your attitude of arrogant superiority, I’m deeply sorry because I know very few men who are better than Shimon. Godliness is no respecter of social class or wealth, and neither is evil. I used to be proud of my noble birth and my position as district leader, but in the past few months I’ve seen deceit and vileness among Judah’s so-called noblemen, and they disgust me. Shimon, on the other hand, was a decent, God-fearing man.”
“You can’t be serious. He dreamed up this plot to frame me.”
“The so-called noblemen who were at dinner with me that night are plotting against the governor. They want to have him killed. I know very well that men of noble birth are capable of lying and murdering. And I also know that humble shepherds like David are capable of ruling as kings.” He took a moment to calm himself and said in a softer voice, “I only wish I could apologize to Shimon, and tell him how sorry I am.”
“Shimon wasn’t bitter about what happened,” Chana said. “And he told me he forgave you, Aaron.” He looked away.
“That sounds like Shimon,” Malkijah said. “He was more of a father to me than my own father was. Abba was too busy working when I was young and never had much time for me. I tried not to make the same mistake with you and Josef. That’s why I took you around with me and tried to teach you to take pride in your work so you could run this estate yourselves someday.” He paused, clearing his throat, and waited until Aaron met his gaze. “And now, after spending the afternoon talking with each one of my servants, I’ve learned what has been going on here in my absence. I’m disappointed in you and Josef and the kind of men you have become.”
For the first time, Aaron appeared frightened. He didn’t have a reply for his father. But he still wouldn’t admit that he had lied about Nava and Shimon. His stubbornness surprised Chana. Malkijah seemed to be waiting to hear the truth, as well, and when it didn’t come, he ended the uncomfortable silence with a sigh. “We’ll be celebrating Rosh Hashanah in a few days. Every seventh year, the priests read the Law out loud to all the people—and this is the seventh year. I believe it would be good for all of us to go to the temple and hear what the Holy One has to say.”
“We just got home from Jerusalem,” Aaron said. “Do we really have to go back?”
“Rosh Hashanah begins the new year, and I would like it to be a new beginning for our family, as well. We need to listen to the Law and prepare our hearts for Yom Kippur, the day we stand before God and confess our sins and seek f
orgiveness.”
“Do I have to go?”
“Of course, Aaron. Of course you do. Regardless of how it happened, Shimon is dead because of you.” He waited a long moment as Aaron continued to pinch pleats in the tablecloth. “If you have nothing more to say about what you’ve done, you’re excused from the table.”
Chana tried to read Malkijah’s expression as he watched Aaron push back his chair with a noisy scrape and leave the room. She wished she knew her husband well enough to read his thoughts. She had no idea what to say to him about what had just happened, so she remained quiet, praying for wisdom. The servants had lit all the lampstands in the room, but the atmosphere still seemed dark and oppressive to her as she waited for Malkijah to speak. He stared down at his hands, folded on the table in front of him, his knuckles white with tension.
“As ruler of this district,” he finally said, “I also serve as a judge. A death has occurred, so it’s up to me to seek justice.” He looked up at Chana and said, “You spoke with the servants that night, and with Shimon. Who do you think is telling the truth?”
Chana took her time, choosing her words carefully. “The first time I visited your estate, I spoke with Nava. She seemed frightened and sad, so I asked if she was being mistreated. She told me she was afraid of Aaron. That he watched her all the time. I paid closer attention after that, and I saw what she meant. Aaron did seem to be attracted to her in a frightening way.”
“You believe the servants’ version of the story? That it was Aaron who attacked the girl?”
She drew a calming breath, finding it harder than she’d imagined to tell Malkijah that she thought his son was a liar and a would-be rapist. “Yes, I do. I believe Aaron is the guilty one, and Shimon came to her rescue, like he said.”
Malkijah propped his elbow on the table, resting his forehead in his hand. “I’m so ashamed of my son. Not only for what he did but for lying to me about it. I don’t want to believe that he’s guilty of attacking that girl or that he struck Shimon so hard when he didn’t get his way that he killed him. But it’s looking more and more like that’s the truth. I spoke with each of my servants today, and the picture they drew for me of my sons’ behavior shocked me.” He massaged his eyes and added, “I’m also ashamed that you have to witness my family’s sins and failures.”
“Don’t be ashamed. Neither of us is perfect. When I remember how I wallowed in self-pity and was angry at God, I’m ashamed of myself, as well. We’re two imperfect people, Malkijah, doing the best we can to follow God. We should have nothing to hide from each other.”
“I don’t know what to do about this situation, Chana.”
“Neither do I, but we’ll figure it out together. You won’t have to deal with this alone.”
“I can’t help thinking that it’s my fault. I know I indulged my sons after their mother died—and I’m reaping the results of that now.”
“Even if you did indulge them, the choices Aaron made aren’t your fault.”
“This is the part that’s hardest of all to admit, Chana. . . . I made some bad choices, too. I became greedy these last few years, wanting more and more, wanting the security of full barns and storehouses when I already had more than enough. I told myself I was being kind to the poor when they had to mortgage their land to me, but the more land and servants I acquired, the more I wanted. I convinced myself that it was for my sons, for their future. But then when the other men obeyed Governor Nehemiah and canceled their loans and mortgages, I was afraid to do it, afraid to trust God and believe that I would have enough if I obeyed. You were right to condemn me, Chana. My greed set a terrible example for my sons, teaching them that they were entitled to take whatever they wanted—and now I’m paying the price.”
“It’s never too late to start over. Shouldn’t our marriage prove that’s true?”
“You’re right, you’re right. . . . But in the meantime, I have a storehouse full of regrets.”
They finally rose from the table and retired to their bedroom for the night. But even after putting out the lamps, Chana knew her husband was still thinking about Aaron and Shimon, wondering what to do. “Would Aaron have turned out this way if we had been poor?” he asked aloud in the darkness. “If we weren’t noblemen at all, and we owned nothing but a small patch of land? I would rather lose everything I have than lose my sons.”
“Then why not try it?” she asked softly. “Give everything away, Malkijah. . . . Rich or poor, I’ll always stand by you.”
Chapter
56
JERUSALEM
The eastern sky was just turning light as Chana walked with Malkijah and his sons from their Jerusalem home to the square in front of the Water Gate. From the corner parapet on top of the temple mount, the sound of shofars shattered the early morning stillness as the priests announced the Feast of Trumpets. It wasn’t yet dawn on the first day of the New Year, but hundreds of people filled the streets, streaming from all parts of the city to hear the reading of the Law on Rosh Hashanah. The closer Chana got to the square, the more crowded the streets became, and Malkijah rested his hand on her shoulder so they wouldn’t lose each other.
Workers had cleared away the construction debris, leaving a broad, open space for the people to assemble. A dozen priests and Levites took their places where everyone could see them on a high wooden platform built for the occasion. As the new day broke, Rebbe Ezra also climbed the platform, carrying the Book of the Law of Moses. The scroll’s elaborate silver finials sparkled in the early light as he unrolled it. The people who had been seated stood up to listen.
“Praise the Lord your God,” Ezra called out, “the great God who is from everlasting to everlasting!”
Chana joined the others, lifting her hands and saying, “Amen! Amen!” Then all the people bowed down and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.
“You alone are the Lord,” Ezra continued. “You made the heavens and all their starry host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them. You give life to everything, and the multitudes of heaven worship you. Give us understanding now, we pray, as you speak to us from your holy Torah.”
Chana lost track of the passing of time as Ezra read aloud from daybreak until noon, facing the square before the Water Gate. Everyone listened attentively to the Law, and to the Levites who instructed them, making the Law clear and translating the Hebrew into Aramaic for those who didn’t understand. The Levites also explained the meaning of the passages for the people’s daily lives, so that everyone could understand what they heard. Many began to weep as they listened. Tears rolled down Chana’s face, too, as the depth of God’s love and grace became clearer and clearer to her.
Standing beside her, Malkijah seemed deeply moved as well. He lifted his hand to his face, pressing his eyes with his fingers as Ezra read the commandment, “‘You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his manservant or maidservant, his ox or donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor.’” She knew his heart was breaking from the mistakes he’d made in raising his sons. His shoulders shook with his grief when Ezra read the words, “‘If a man beats his male or female slave and the slave dies as a direct result, he must be punished.’”
Chana resisted the temptation to glance at Aaron and see his response to the voice of the Almighty One in His Torah. Was he listening and joining in worship with everyone else? But she also knew that this day and the days of soul-searching and repentance leading up to Yom Kippur were meant for her every bit as much as for Aaron. She also had sinned against the Almighty One in her attitudes and deeds and neglectfulness, and she needed forgiveness as much as Aaron did.
By the time Ezra finished, the sun was high in the sky and the sound of weeping could be heard all over the square. Governor Nehemiah mounted the platform. “This day is sacred to the Lord your God,” he said. “Do not mourn or weep. It’s commendable that you feel sorrow for your sin, but it’s also important to express your joy
in our God and in the covenant He has made with us. Stop weeping, and celebrate with joy because now you understand the words He has spoken to you. Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, remembering God’s many gifts. Send some to those who have nothing prepared, thanking God for the privilege of sharing with others. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”
As the people slowly left the square to return home, the Levites emphasized Nehemiah’s words, calming the people and saying, “Be still, for this is a sacred day. Do not grieve.”
“We need to go to Beth Hakkerem tonight,” Malkijah told his family. “We must do as the governor said and send gifts to the people in our district.”
“I’ll be happy to help,” Chana said.
Every day in that week leading up to Yom Kippur, Rebbe Ezra read from the Book of the Law, and Chana listened with all the people. On the evening before the Day of Atonement, she shared a meal with Malkijah and his sons in their home in Beth Hakkerem. Malkijah grew somber after they’d eaten as he addressed Aaron and Josef.
“Tomorrow, when the high priest carries the blood of the sacrifice before the Holy One’s mercy seat, we will confess our sins and ask Him to forgive us and cleanse our souls. According to tradition, that includes asking forgiveness from one another. God can’t forgive us if we haven’t asked the people we’ve hurt for forgiveness. His forgiveness mirrors our own.”
He paused, waiting quietly for his sons’ responses. Malkijah had told Chana that he wanted to be at the estate in case Aaron repented and decided to ask Nava for forgiveness. But Aaron remained stubbornly silent, staring out into the cloud-filled night as if thoroughly bored. It was his younger brother, Josef, who finally spoke in a halting voice.
“Father . . . I need to tell you something. The wine that went missing from your storeroom . . . ?” He gave his brother a frightened glance. “Aaron and I stole it. . . . I’m sorry, Father.”