“This is my sister, Amina,” Sayfah said. “Remember I told you about her?”
“She’s as pretty as you are. And not married? How did that happen? Come on, Amina, you don’t want to sit here with the married women and little children. I’ll introduce you to some of my friends.” He extended his hand to pull her to her feet.
“But I really don’t—”
“Go,” Sayfah whispered, pushing her from behind. “Don’t be difficult.”
Amina ignored his outstretched hand and used her crutch to get up, hoping it would discourage him. Instead, her crutch slipped and fell to the ground as he grabbed her arm. She had to leave it behind as he pulled her toward the darkened lane where the other couples had disappeared. “I-I’d rather stay out here in the square by the bonfire,” she said, dragging her feet.
“There are too many people out here. And you look like you could use a drink.”
“I don’t want any more wine. I’ve had enough already. . . .”
He stopped short and gave her a little shake. “What’s wrong with you? Sayfah said you were looking for a good time.”
“I-I’m not!”
“Well, I am!” He wouldn’t let go as he pulled her toward the alley against her will. The more she resisted, the tighter he held on to her until she was sure he would leave bruises on her arm. She wanted to scream, to run, but he held her so tightly and the party had become so loud, no one would hear her above the noise and shrieks of laughter.
“No, stop! Let me go! Please!” she begged.
Her captor merely laughed at her futile struggles. “A cripple like you can’t afford to be choosy, you know.”
Was this her punishment for coming to a pagan feast? “Lord, help me, please!” she wept.
Out of nowhere, a shadow emerged from the darkness, racing toward them. It hurtled into the drunken Edomite, knocking Amina free. She knew it was Reuben, but it seemed impossible that he could be here, that he had come just in time to save her. Reuben punched the startled man in the stomach, then in the jaw, making him stumble backward and nearly fall. “Leave her alone, or I’ll kill you!” he said. Then he lifted Amina in his arms and sprinted away with her before the man could protest.
“Oh, thank God, thank God.” She wept against his chest.
“Are you okay, Amina?”
“Yes . . . yes . . . but I was so scared!” Her body trembled from head to toe, and she couldn’t stop crying. Reuben stopped and set her down in a dark lane between two houses, holding her close and letting her cling to him and weep until her tears of fear and relief and shame were finally exhausted. Then he led her to Sayfah’s house—she had no idea how he knew where it was. They sat side by side in Sayfah’s courtyard until she finally stopped trembling, the music booming from the village square, the glow of the bonfire lighting up the night sky.
“I can’t believe you’re really here, Reuben. Why . . . ? How . . . ? How did you find me?”
“I followed you. I had Babylonian friends back in Casiphia, so I know what their festivals are like. As soon as I saw this village, I had a bad feeling about what would go on here tonight. I’ve been watching you from the shadows all night.”
“No one saw you?”
He gave a short laugh. “I used to be a thief, Amina. I’m still pretty good at watching without being seen. Pretty good at sneaking into places, too. And waiting.”
“I’m so glad you did!”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. But I want to go home.”
“What about your sister?”
“I don’t care about her. She’s the one who made me go with him, and she’ll be furious with me when she finds out what happened. We don’t have anything in common anymore.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until she comes home? If you leave, she might worry about you. Besides, it’s a long way back to Jerusalem in the dark.”
“You’re right. I guess I should wait here. It’ll be dawn soon, won’t it? How much longer will the festival last?”
“Probably until then. We can go home as soon as it’s light.”
Amina realized she was still clinging to him for protection like a drowning woman, unwilling to let go. He made her feel safe as he gently rubbed her back to soothe her. She wished she could stay in his embrace forever, but he released her after a while and held her at arms’ length to look into her eyes.
“Amina, I feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life already. I don’t want to waste another day or hour or minute of it. I’ve fallen in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be my wife?”
She had finally stopped crying, but once again tears blurred her vision at his words. She couldn’t believe it. A wonderful man like Reuben loved her? She couldn’t speak. “Amina, say something, please.”
“Yes, Reuben, yes! I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day you came to be measured for your robe, and I was so happy when I saw you again at the temple and you helped me. Whenever we’re together, I feel like my heart is being woven into yours, like this”—she said, twining her fingers together—“but I was afraid to fall in love with you, afraid it couldn’t possibly work out—a man like you with someone like me.”
“I’m the lucky one, not you. So you’ll really marry me?”
“Yes! Yes, I will!” He bent his head to kiss her, and the touch of his lips on hers—tender at first, then conveying all of his passion and love—was the most wonderful feeling she had ever known. “I’m sorry,” he said when he finally pulled away. “That probably wasn’t proper, but I couldn’t resist a single moment longer.”
“I’m not sorry,” she said, letting him kiss her again.
“What do we do next?” he asked. “How long do we have to wait to get married?”
“I think our fathers are supposed to arrange our betrothal, but we don’t have any parents. Jacob is the closest thing I have to a father or a guardian, but he isn’t coming back to Jerusalem until the Feast of Passover, next spring.”
“We’ll go to Bethlehem and ask him, then.”
“I don’t have a dowry, Reuben.”
“That doesn’t matter—I don’t have any money for a bride price. Let’s just do it, Amina. I can’t stand to say good-bye to you every day. I don’t even know how I’ll stand to go to work and be away from you once we’re married.”
“Where will we live?”
“I’ll build a house for you in Jerusalem. I’ll lay every stone myself, working day and night until it’s finished. I’ll even—” He paused, suddenly alert, listening. He rose to his feet. “Someone’s coming. I have to go. Meet me at the village entrance at dawn. I’ll be waiting for you.” She saw him slink through the gate into the street, but then he seemed to vanish, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared.
Amina hadn’t heard a sound until then, but a few moments after Reuben left, Sayfah and her family stumbled home, looking bleary and tired, carrying the smaller children and Amina’s crutch. “There you are,” Sayfah said. “Why did you run off like that? My brother-in-law said you weren’t very nice to him.”
“I tried to tell you last night, but you wouldn’t listen to me. I’m in love with a wonderful man named Reuben ben David and—”
“A Jew? Amina, how could you!”
“He loves me, too, and we hope to be married soon. I want you to come to our wedding and meet him.”
“Never. Even if my husband allowed it, which he won’t, I wouldn’t come. The Jews are our enemies, Amina. Did you forget they killed Mama and Papa and our brothers? Did you forget what they did to our village?”
“That was a lifetime ago. And Reuben wasn’t part of it. He just moved here from—”
“He’s a Jew, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but—”
“I guess we have nothing more to say to each other.”
“Can’t you be happy for me, Sayfah? I love Reuben. He doesn’t care that I’m crippled or that I’m not Jewish.”
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“You shouldn’t marry a Jew. It’s wrong.”
“I am going to marry him. But please don’t be angry with me. We’re sisters.”
“You’re marrying one of my people’s enemies. That makes you my enemy.”
“I don’t feel that way about you and your family.”
“My husband won’t allow you to come back if you marry a Jew. He hates the Jews. Don’t come back to see me again unless you’re coming back to live here for good.” Sayfah turned away, and Amina knew she wouldn’t change her mind.
The sky was quickly turning light. It was time to leave. The bonds of love joining her to Reuben were stronger than the bonds between her and Sayfah. She was about to break the final tie to her past. “I’m leaving now,” she said. “Good-bye, Sayfah.” She hugged her sister one last time, but Sayfah stood with her arms at her sides, not returning the embrace. Amina limped away, wiping her eyes, knowing she probably would never see her sister again.
Reuben stood just beyond the village entrance, waiting for her. Without a word, he took Amina’s hand, and they started across the valley to Jerusalem and their new life together.
Chapter
50
BETHLEHEM
One week later, Amina held tightly to the donkey she rode as Reuben led it up the long climb to the top of the Mount of Olives. Neither the bumpy, uncomfortable ride nor the dreary fall day and overcast skies could dampen her happiness. Reuben loved her and wanted to marry her. She decided to ask Hodaya’s son Jacob and his wife, Rivkah, to arrange their betrothal and wedding since they were Amina’s only family now. She and Reuben borrowed the donkey from Joshua ben Zechariah for the trip to Bethlehem. Both Joshua and his brother, Johanan, gave Amina and Reuben their blessing, as well as the donkey and a servant to accompany them on the six-mile trip. Now each swaying step of the journey brought Amina closer to her new life with Reuben.
At last they reached the top of the hill, and Amina longed to spur the donkey into a gallop as the road descended, knowing Reuben would gladly race all the way to Bethlehem with her.
“I hope Jacob is home,” Amina said as they drew closer to the village, “and not out in the desert somewhere with his flocks.” She worried that she hadn’t seen any flocks in the fields close to town.
“If he isn’t home, I’ll hike out to the desert to find him,” Reuben said. He looked so serious and determined that Amina believed he would.
“Reuben, no!” she said in alarm. “You grew up in a city! You don’t know how to find your way through those grazing lands.”
“Then we’d better pray Jacob is home.”
Thankfully, he was. Amina and Reuben arrived in Bethlehem before noon at the home where she’d lived for most of her life. Reuben wasted no time asking Jacob for her hand. “I’m Reuben ben David from the tribe of Levi,” he said, introducing himself. “Amina and I want to get married. Will you help us do everything the proper way?”
“I would be honored,” Jacob said with a broad grin. Rivkah hugged Amina tightly, tears of joy in her eyes.
“We don’t need anything fancy,” Amina said, “and I don’t want you to fuss.”
“And we don’t want to wait any longer than we have to,” Reuben added.
Amina looked up at him and smiled. “We just want to start our new life together as soon as possible.”
“Well, then,” Jacob said, clapping his hands together. “I believe I have just enough time to spread the word and gather our family and the village elders. We’ll hold your betrothal right here after evening prayers. Is that soon enough?”
Amina threw her arms around him to hug him. “Yes! Thank you so much!”
They sat down to eat the noon meal Rivkah quickly laid out, then Jacob went off to spread the news through the village, inviting everyone to Amina’s betrothal that evening. “Would you like me to show you around my village while we wait?” Amina asked. “It isn’t raining at the moment.”
“Yes, let’s go.”
She took Reuben to the market square first because of what it symbolized to her, even though today wasn’t market day and the booths stood empty. “This is where my old life ended and my new one began,” she told him as they slowly walked between the stalls. “Hodaya used to sell her cloth right here. I was running with my sister and our friends the first time I met her, and I fell right in front of her. Hodaya helped me up and cleaned my scraped knees. No one treated me so kindly before. She told me we had something in common because we were both crippled.” Amina paused, overcome with sorrow as she remembered her precious friend. “Sayfah and I came here to hide in Hodaya’s booth after our house was robbed and our village plundered by our own people, fleeing from the Jews. Hodaya found us and took us home with her.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
“Me too. . . . The village where I came from is just a short walk down that road,” she said as they moved on. “We used to come to Bethlehem for market day every week.”
“Is it still there?”
“No, the village is gone. Jacob took Sayfah and me back after the war, but everything had burned to the ground.” Amina led him toward the narrow entrance where Mama and so many others had been trampled to death. She longed to hold Reuben’s hand for comfort, but it wasn’t proper. Soon, she told herself. Soon they’d never have to be apart.
She halted at the edge of the square, images of the massacre still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. “I overheard my father and the others planning what they would do to Bethlehem’s Jews on the Thirteenth of Adar,” she said. “They had no compassion, only hatred and greed and a lust to kill. So I came to Hodaya’s booth to warn her. I told her she and the other Jews needed to run away and hide.” Amina closed her eyes for a moment, remembering Hodaya’s beautiful smile, her deep faith. “She told me her God would save them. ‘I don’t know how He’ll do it,’ she said, ‘and I know it looks hopeless right now, but they’re telling us to trust God.’ And she was right. I knew even then I wanted to be like her, not like my parents. My father’s plans were evil, and he died because of them. Hodaya used to say whatever seed you plant in the ground, that’s what crop you’ll harvest. And he planted evil.”
“Those were terrible days for all of us,” Reuben said. “I couldn’t get past the fact my father had been killed, and God had allowed it. But you lost everything. I can’t imagine that.”
“At the time, I saw my loss as a terrible thing,” Amina said. “I didn’t know how Sayfah and I would survive. But now I look back and see how the Almighty One brought something good out of something terrible. The changes in my life seemed unbearable, but they led to better things. . . . They led to you.”
She saw Reuben check to see if anyone was watching, then he took her hand in his and squeezed it before letting go again. “I love you,” he said. The knowledge still astounded her.
“I’m sorry you lost your father,” Amina said. “He must have been a wonderful man. . . . I used to live in fear of my father.” She shivered involuntarily, remembering how he beat her and Sayfah. “He was ashamed of me because I was crippled, and I lived with that shame every day. But being crippled probably saved my life. If I had gone with Mama and the other women that night, I might have been trampled to death, too. I’ve never felt shame or rejection with the Jewish people. They believe every life is precious, every person God created is valuable.”
She turned her back on the road to her old village and began walking again. “But as wonderful as my life has been, all the images of that day are still burned into my heart and mind,” she said. “I’m not sure I can ever erase them.”
“I know what you mean,” Reuben said. “So many people died. It was the first time I experienced death, and to see it come so violently . . .”
“Yes. But when we can look back on our past, no matter how painful it was, and see God at work, it gives us hope for the future. And right now, when I think of our future together, I can’t imagine anything but joy—can you, Reuben? Think of it
!”
“I wish we could get married today.”
“Me too.”
Amina thought only of their future that evening as her friends and adopted family members from Bethlehem gathered in the courtyard of Jacob’s home to witness her betrothal. Reuben and Jacob signed the marriage contract the elders had drawn up for them, and she stood with Reuben beneath a canopy of branches hastily built by Jacob’s sons. Reuben’s hand was steady as he poured a cup of wine from the flask. “Amina . . . by offering you this cup, I vow I am willing to give my life for you,” he said.
Amina gazed up at him and saw his eyes glisten as she accepted the cup from him. She drank from it, accepting his proposal and promising to give her life for him, too. A shout of joy erupted before a crowd of well-wishers enveloped Amina, women she’d known for most of her life and had grown to love. One by one, they congratulated her and promised to help her prepare for the wedding. God willing, she and Reuben would have only a short time to wait.
“I hate saying good-bye to you,” she told Reuben the next morning as he prepared to leave for Jerusalem.
“I won’t be long,” he told her. “I’m going to prepare a new home for you, and when I come back, we’ll never have to be apart again.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
He grasped her hand and squeezed it. “And I love you. Always and forever.”
Reuben hefted a stone into place on the foundation of his new home, then paused to rest his aching muscles. The one-room house was tinier than the hideout where he and his friends used to meet in Babylon, the courtyard barren and rough and unpaved. If only he could build a palace for Amina, with servants to wait on her every need like the servants Rebbe Ezra had.
“A small house is much better,” Amina had assured him before they’d said good-bye in Bethlehem. “I can’t limp around a great big house with my bad leg.” He smiled at her sweet nature, remembering how she’d added, “All we need is a hearth for cooking, a place for my loom, and a bedroom for you and me.”