Apprentice (33 page)

As the day before my wedding drew to a close and I prepared to immerse in the
mikvah
for the first time, it was impossible not to think about it. For the entire purpose of my immersion was to remove my menstrual impurity and make me permitted to my husband. For the rest of my married life, Rami would expect to lie with me the night I used the
mikvah
. But surely I wouldn't suffer as Newandukh had; Rami was a rabbi, not one of the
am-ha'aretz
.

Mother, Achti, and my sisters-in-law accompanied me to the canal. Rami's sister came too, all the way from Pumbedita. Her task was to observe my unclothed body for any defects and report them to her brothers. Without that inspection, Rami might be able to divorce me on the grounds that I had hidden flaws.

Months ago, when the canal was flowing so fast that anything in it would have been swept away, Father's workers had dug out a pond a short distance away for my sisters-in-law to use as a
mikvah
. Fed from the canal by a small channel, it was surrounded by tall reed mats, which today would provide me privacy plus someplace to hang my clothing.

Several large jugs full of water stood heating in the sun, and nearby there were small bowls of sand, soapwort, and aloe for washing. The Sages taught that before a woman immersed in the
mikvah
, every part of her body must be clean, even the secret and folded places. Nothing may come between her skin or hair and the
mikvah
waters.

To make that easier, and so they looked more attractive to their husbands, Jewish wives removed both the hair in their armpits and between their legs. Naturally I had never done this before, and Shayla showed me how to spread just the right amount of depilatory lotion so the hair would come off without irritating my skin. I couldn't see my armpits very well, but it was strange to view my suddenly denuded pubic area.

After Mother made sure I was completely clean, I slowly stepped down into the
mikvah
. It was cooler than the washing water and refreshing in the hot afternoon. As I let myself sink below the surface, I could feel the gentle currents caress my skin. I tried to imagine Rami's hands caressing me, which he would be doing the very next night, and I hoped just as gently. Slightly over twenty-four hours remained, and no one had yet explained to me what to expect—except for Newandukh.

The next morning was a whirlwind of activity. My sisters-in-law, nieces, and even more extended female relations crowded into my
kiton
as Mother doled out the jewelry our family would wear. They oohed and aahed over the pearl necklace and earrings I'd be wearing, which everyone agreed would perfectly set off my light hair and complexion. Zahra helped me into the rose-pink silk outfit that Pazi had given me before her wedding, and then concentrated on my makeup, winking as she applied just a touch of black kohl around my eyes. Matching silk ribbons wove through my loosened tresses, and Mother held a garland of pink roses that would soon crown my head.

The three signs of a virgin bride were her loose, uncovered hair, the floral garland on her head, and a musical procession from her parents' home to the groom's. The best my parents could improvise for the last requirement was musicians accompanying me as I slowly descended the stairs to where Rami waited to lead me to the head table.

I sighed with delight at how magnificent he looked in his brilliant green silk tunic and trousers, his hair and beard oiled and curled like a king's. His entire face had lit up when he first saw me on the stairs, and as he took my arm, he leaned over to whisper, “I can't believe how beautiful you are. I am the most fortunate man in Bavel.”

Despite his smiles when guests came over to congratulate him, he didn't seem happy. If anything, he looked so anxious that I was almost more worried about him than about me. Music and dancing continued while we ate, although I could not have told anyone what dishes we'd been served or what songs had been sung. By the time the evening meal was served, my appetite was gone and I noticed that Rami had scarcely touched his food.

Father must have seen that we weren't eating, because he stood up and began the seven wedding blessings. Suddenly Mother was behind me, her hand on my arm, encouraging me to come with her. The guests pretended to look elsewhere as we walked slowly toward the door, Achti and Pazi following in our wake.

My heart was pounding from a combination of curiosity, excitement, and dread when we reached Mother's receiving room. As for Pazi's wedding, it had been transformed into the nuptial bedchamber. This was where Rami and I would reside for the seven days of wedding celebration, after which I would move into his home.

Thank Heaven the bed curtains provided a screen so Zahra could undress me privately, but I could hear the musicians and celebrants clearly through the open doorway. Judging by the raucous bursts of masculine laughter, my brothers and the other men had begun their ritual taunting of the new bridegroom.

I waited nervously until Zahra had removed my jewelry and the ribbons from my hair. Then, wearing only my tunic, I sat down on the feather bed. Achti and Pazi took places on either side, and when they looked up at Mother expectantly, I did too.

Mother didn't waste any words on euphemisms. “Before your husband lies with you, his member will harden until it becomes rigid. Then he will push it into your womb, which will break your virginity and likely cause you to bleed.”

I tried to conquer my fear, but I had to ask, “How much will it hurt?”

Mother sighed. “It depends on many things: the size of Rami's member compared to your womb's opening, how strongly he enters, whether you welcome the holy act or resist.” She turned to Achti and Pazi, nodding for them to speak.

“Ukva was very gentle,” Achti said. “I'd call it discomfort rather than actual pain. Now giving birth—that was pain.”

It was no solace knowing that my first time with Rami wouldn't hurt as much as childbirth.

“Tachlifa caressed me in such a way that he evoked a great desire in me,” Pazi said. “I was so eager for him to enter that I scarcely noticed any pain when he did.”

“In any case, the pain was over quickly,” Achti said. “Like the prick of a bloodletter's knife.”

Mother continued her lecture. “Once you bleed, your husband must wait until you heal before he lies with you again.”

“So it shouldn't hurt the next time,” Pazi assured me. But I noticed that she'd said “shouldn't,” not “wouldn't.”

I suddenly remembered a Mishna I'd read with Grandfather, one that he hurried over and said we'd study later. But we never did, and I never heard Father teach it to his students either. It was from the tenth chapter of Tractate Niddah, which taught: “If she had already bled while in her father's house, Shammai says she is allowed the initial mitzvah act only. Hillel gives her the entire first night.”

The entire first night? Ha-Elohim! Whether being kicked between my legs by a donkey or pricked by a bloodletter's knife, I'd be fortunate to be able to walk tomorrow morning.

Mother interrupted my reverie. “Do you have any questions?”

I was sorry I'd asked about the pain. So I asked Pazi, “What kind of caresses evoke desire?”

Only a small lamp kept the room from total darkness, but I could see Pazi blush. “A gentle squeezing around your nipples and the folds at the opening of your womb.”

Achti nodded her agreement, and to my astonishment, Mother added, “But sometimes a woman prefers stronger pressure, maybe even a pinch.”

Achti and Pazi giggled, but Mother continued, “A woman will not emit seed unless she feels desire, and the way to bear a son is for the wife to emit seed before her husband does.” Mother should certainly be an expert on bearing sons.

“How will I know when I've emitted seed?”

“Believe me, you'll know.” I couldn't see Mother's face, but I knew she was smiling. “It is extremely pleasurable.”

Before I could think of any more questions, Rami's sister called out, “Is my brother's bride ready?”

The last thing I felt was ready, but Mother replied, “Yes, she is.”

With that, Achti and Pazi kissed my cheeks and slid off the bed.
Mother waited until Zahra pulled off my tunic and anointed me with my new rose perfume. Then the two of them tucked me, naked, beneath the linens. Zahra gave me a fierce hug and then she too was gone. I could hear the music and men's voices growing louder as Rami was escorted to the doorway.

Suddenly, on the side of the bed opposite the door, Mother was speaking and Rami was responding. Then she was gone. The lamp was still lit, and overcome by curiosity I peeked through a narrow opening where the bed curtains didn't quite meet. Rami, his back to the bed, was getting undressed. I watched wide-eyed as he removed his trousers and his tunic. Wearing only the thin girdle that separated a man's spiritual upper body from the carnal parts below, he paused. His shoulders and buttocks were well shaped, and my breathing quickened. Then he whispered something I couldn't hear, although I felt certain that he was praying.

He untied the girdle, turned around, and stepped toward the bed. I hurriedly lay down and pulled up the linens, my mind reeling with confusion and disappointment. Rami's member wasn't the least bit swollen or rigid. To make matters worse, the commotion outside the door hadn't gone away. If anything, the songs and catcalls had gotten louder.

Then the lamp was extinguished.

I
heard the bed curtains opening, and next thing I knew Rami's naked body was lying next to mine, so close that I could smell the musky fragrance in his hair. Now what was I to do? Obviously Rami wasn't ready to enter me, but wouldn't he think me brazen if I turned over to hug him or kiss him? Thankful for the darkness that hid my consternation, I waited…and waited, while the men shouted lusty encouragement from what seemed to be quite nearby. Ha-Elohim! Surely they weren't going to come in and surround the bed.

I realized that Rami had said something, but the clamor was so loud that I hadn't heard him. I had no choice but to slide closer and turn to face him. “What did you say?”

Instead of answering, he put his arms around me and began kissing me. I returned his kisses with all the enthusiasm I could muster, but it was difficult to relax and enjoy his attention with all that yelling directed at us. We kissed for so long that I started feeling squished by his tight embrace. Yet Rami made no attempt to move his hands to the sensitive places Pazi had mentioned.

Abruptly he pulled away and rolled onto his back. “I'm sorry, Dodi. I can't do it.” He sounded ready to cry.

No wonder his kisses didn't feel as good as I remembered. “What do you mean? Have demons bound you?” Immediately I regretted my words, for this was not something to say in the bridal chamber.

“I don't think so.” Rami hesitated before continuing, “When you wash my feet…especially as your hands move up my legs…sometimes I, uh, I get so aroused it's all I can do…not to spill my seed right then.”

That gave me an idea. “I could massage your legs now.”

Before he could answer, a rude shout rose from the doorway. “The bed curtains aren't moving. Have you finished already?”

“Let him rest awhile.” I recognized Tachlifa's voice. “Remember that Hillel gives him the whole night.”

At the first taunt, Rami had twitched defensively and with the second, his body stiffened. Well, not every part of his body. My emotions wavered between fright and fury at this flagrant invasion of our privacy.

“How can Father allow this?” I demanded.

Rami sighed. “It's like that at all weddings. It's a wonder how any man is able to deflower his bride with all this noise going on just outside.”

“I don't understand. The musicians were just as noisy, but you didn't have any trouble dancing.”

“It's difficult to explain…especially to a woman. That, uh, member isn't like the other limbs of my body. I can't just will it to behave the way I want.” He cleared his throat, and I could tell he was thinking. “I mean, it's more like your heart. Sometimes, when you're excited or scared, it beats faster and harder. But you can't make it pound by deciding that you want it to.”

“You can make your heart pound by running or some other exertion.” I was surprised by how calm I felt.

Rami stopped to think again. “True, and usually men get aroused by thinking about using the bed.”

“Isn't that what you're thinking about?”

He sighed again. “I can't think about it in the right way when I'm so distracted.”

This was fascinating. From what I'd read in Torah or Mishna, I never imagined that men found cohabitation so problematic. I tried to suppress a yawn, but it had been an exhausting several days. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep. Then we can wake up early when it's quiet and try again.”

Rami yawned too. “The rest of my body appreciates lying here next to you and holding you close.”