Faith of My Fathers (6 page)

“God of Abraham, what is going on? This can’t be happening.” Eliakim tried to pace, but the prison cell was too small. He could take only three steps before he had to turn and walk back again. The stone floor was rough and uneven beneath his feet.

The jail was little more than a crude hole, carved in the bedrock beneath the palace, with an iron door bolted across the opening. It smelled damp and musty, like ancient tombs and decaying bones. With no windows and no lamps or torches, it was blacker than a moonless night. It reminded Eliakim of the Siloam tunnel, and he tried not to panic at the thought of being buried alive. He couldn’t see Isaiah, but he knew that the prophet sat on the floor, just a few feet away. The thought comforted him.

“This can’t be happening,” he said again. He had repeated the phrase a dozen times in the long hour since Manasseh had imprisoned them.

“Eliakim,” Isaiah said with a sigh, “why don’t you sit down. It’s going to be a while until morning.”

“I’m sorry, Rabbi, but it’s all so crazy! What on earth is going on? What is King Manasseh thinking? How long is this temper fit of his going to last? He won’t keep us down here all night, will he?”

“Are you asking me to tell the future, too?”

Eliakim heard the irony in Isaiah’s voice and smiled in spite of himself. “Well, it would be nice to know what’s going to happen next, Rabbi.”

“God alone knows. We’ll have to rest in Him. Come, Eliakim. Sit down.”

He stumbled toward Isaiah’s voice, his hands outstretched in the darkness. He found the opposite wall and felt his way down to the floor, sitting for the first time since the soldiers put him in the cell.

“Not very comfortable, is it?” Isaiah said.

“No. Are you warm enough, Rabbi? It’s freezing in here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Eliakim folded his arms and tucked his hands in his armpits to warm them. “Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

“I want to believe that this is all a terrible mistake. That Manasseh will listen to reason in the morning, but—” “I know. Uncertainty is the enemy of our faith.” Isaiah heaved a deep sigh. “ ‘In that day I will summon my servant, Eliakim son of Hilkiah. . . . He will be a father to those who live in Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. I will place on his shoulder the key to the house of David. . . . I will drive him like a peg into a firm place.’ Do you remember when I told you that?”

“How could I ever forget it?” Eliakim said softly.

“There was more,” Isaiah said. “I never told you all of it. I’m sorry.”

Eliakim waited for what seemed a very long time. He didn’t know why, but his heart had began to pound. When Isaiah finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse.

“ ‘ “In that day,” declares the Lord Almighty, “the peg driven into the firm place will give way; it will be sheared off and will fall, and the load hanging on it will be cut down.” The Lord has spoken.’ ” Isaiah’s robes rustled, and Eliakim knew the rabbi was wiping away tears.

Eliakim struggled to comprehend the words of the prophecy: they meant he would fall from power. Is that what was happening to him? Had Isaiah known this day would come? Eliakim groped in the darkness for Isaiah’s shoulder and rested his hand on it.

“I’m glad you never told me, Rabbi, but thank you for telling me now.”

“The Lord showed me so much for King Jotham, King Ahaz, King Hezekiah. But Yahweh has shown me nothing of King Manasseh’s reign, and I don’t know why.”

“Can’t we do what Manasseh asked? Can’t we pray and ask God to give us something to appease him? Maybe He’ll show us His plan for Manasseh.”

“I think this is His plan.”

“You mean, to be falsely accused and imprisoned? But why?”

“I don’t know. If it’s His will to save us, then God will show me what Manasseh wants to know. If not . . .”

Eliakim groaned. “I’ve been trying to think back over the past few days, to remember something that might have happened to set Manasseh off like this, but I can’t think of anything that’s relevant. I stood beside him at the Temple this morning and again tonight. He held court today as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I went home for dinner to see if there was any word on my daughter’s baby and—”

“So you’re going to be a grandfather, Eliakim?”

“I already am.” Eliakim knew that Isaiah was trying to distract his thoughts to help pass the time, and he decided to play along. “My older son, Jerimoth, and his wife have a baby girl. My daughter Tirza is married to a priest, so of course she’s hoping for a son, and—”

Eliakim heard footsteps descending the stairs. The cell gradually began to grow lighter as the torches drew near. He sprang to his feet. “Oh, thank God!” He helped Isaiah to his feet, and they felt their way toward the cell door as three soldiers came into view. The one in front carried a torch, while the other two carried what looked like a heavy sack between them. Probably some bedding. That meant he and Isaiah would be left down here all night.

“Stand back!” the first soldier shouted. “Turn around and face the wall with your hands over your heads.”

As they obeyed, Eliakim glanced at Isaiah’s face. He looked calm, but his eyes were tired, his face ashen. His robes were covered with rotting debris from the cell floor. Eliakim heard the soldiers struggle with the heavy beam barring the door, and then he heard the hollow squeal of rusty metal as the door swung open. There was a soft thud as the sack fell to the floor; then the door groaned shut again and the bar slammed into place. Eliakim quickly turned around to examine the bundle before the light disappeared again. But the mound wasn’t a sack of bedding straw. It was his father.

“Abba! God of Abraham, no! It’s Abba!”

Eliakim sank to the floor and lifted his father into his arms, cradling him. Hilkiah moaned softly. Isaiah crouched beside them. Then the light was gone again, the cell as dark as pitch. Eliakim felt his father’s face with his fingertips; it was swollen and sticky with blood. Eliakim didn’t want to believe that Manasseh would involve Hilkiah in this nightmare.

“Abba, what happened to you?”

“Eliakim?” he whispered.

“Yes, Abba, I’m here.”

“I can’t see.”

“That’s because there’s no light in here.” Eliakim’s sleeve began to grow damp where his father’s head rested against it. He touched Hilkiah’s hair with his other hand. It was matted and soaked with blood. “Dear God, Abba! Who did this to you?”

“Soldiers . . . They wanted Joshua.”

“Joshua? What for?” Hilkiah moved his head slightly as he shook it. “Was Joshua home? Did they arrest him, too?” Eliakim asked.

Hilkiah shook his head again. “I . . . didn’t tell . . .”His voice was slurred, as if he talked out of only one side of his mouth.

Eliakim gently squeezed his father’s right hand. “Can you feel this, Abba?” Again, Hilkiah shook his head. But then he lifted his left hand to his ear as if to swat away a fly. Eliakim touched his father’s ear to see what was bothering him. The side of Hilkiah’s head was slick with blood, but there was no wound. The blood was coming out of his ear.

“Eliakim . . . I’m dying. . . .” he mumbled.

“No, Abba, you’re not! Don’t die! Oh, dear God. . . !” He gently lifted Hilkiah into Isaiah’s arms and scrambled to his feet, banging his fists against the cell door. “Jailer! Somebody!” he cried. The sound of his voice and pounding fists echoed in the tiny cell, bouncing back at him, deafening him. “My father needs a physician! Have mercy on him! He’s an old man! He’s done nothing wrong! Please!”

He heard no reply, no footsteps descending the stairs.

“Rabbi? Am I dying . . . for a righteous cause?” Hilkiah asked.

“Yes, my friend,” Isaiah said. “You’ve played a very important part in Yahweh’s eternal plan. You’ve lived your life faithfully, never compromising with evil. And you’ve raised your son and your grandchildren to do the same. Soon, now, you will stand in God’s holy presence.”

Eliakim knelt again and gently took Hilkiah from Isaiah’s arms. He wanted to clasp his father tightly, but he was afraid he would hurt him.

“It’s so . . . hard to think . . .” Hilkiah whispered. “Say prayers with me, Eliakim. ‘Hear O Israel . . .”’

“‘. . . Yahweh is our God. Yahweh alone. You shall love—”’ Eliakim’s throat tightened, and he couldn’t finish. In the darkness beside him, Isaiah continued to pray while Hilkiah whispered some of the words along with him.

“‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down . . .’ ”

“ ‘. . . lie down . . .’ ”

“ ‘. . . in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.’ ”

“‘. . . my soul.’ ”

“Abba . . . Abba, no!” Eliakim wept. “Oh, God of Abraham, you have the power to heal him! Nothing is too hard for you! I pray that—”

“No, son.” Hilkiah’s fingers touched Eliakim’s lips. “Don’t pray. Let me go home.”

“No, Abba! I can’t! Not like this!”

“Let me go . . . home to . . . Yahweh.”

“ ‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,’ ” Isaiah murmured, “ ‘I will fear no evil, for you are with me.’ ”

“ ‘. . . with me . . .’ ”

“‘Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.’ ”

Eliakim closed his eyes and wept as Isaiah and Hilkiah continued to recite, his father’s voice growing weaker and weaker.

“‘Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’ Amen.” Isaiah finished the psalm. He rested his hand on Eliakim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. He’s gone.”

Eliakim buried his face on his father’s chest. “But why?” he cried. “I don’t even know why. . . .”

———— When Dinah opened her eyes, she was lying in a strange bed in a room she didn’t recognize. Her neck felt bruised and swollen. She remembered the soldier’s hands around her throat, choking off her life, and she cried out.

“Shh . . . it’s all right, Dinah. They’re gone now.” She struggled to sit up and was startled to see King Manasseh standing beside the bed.

“My grandfather! They hurt my grandfather!”

“Shh . . . he’ll be all right. I promise you,” Manasseh said. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, thank God.” She began to weep, and Manasseh pulled her into his arms to comfort her. She felt his hand stroking her hair as she wept against his chest. After a while she dried her eyes and sat up again, ashamed of what she had done. It wasn’t proper for an unmarried woman to be in a man’s arms, even if he was practically a member of the family. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I shouldn’t have done that. But I was so scared.”

“I know. It must have been a terrifying experience for you.”

She looked into his eyes, and her heart quickened. King Manasseh was so handsome, his brown eyes so unusual, as if they contained flecks of topaz. Like all of her friends, Dinah had often dreamt that she would one day marry King Manasseh.

“They wanted Joshua, Your Majesty. They said they would kill my grandfather and me if we didn’t tell them where he was. But I don’t know why they wanted him. What did he do?”

“I’m still trying to find out the truth myself.” He held her shoulders, and she felt the warmth of his hands through her clothes. “Dinah, I can’t find Joshua, either. Do you know where he is?”

“Yes, he went to Yael’s house to talk to her father. He wants to marry her.”

Manasseh looked relieved. “Good. Now listen, Dinah, I need you to answer some questions for me so I can help your brother. All right?”

“I’ll try.”

“Has your father always had a close relationship with Rabbi Isaiah?”

“Yes, for as long as I can remember.”

“And Eliakim knows the high priest quite well, too?”

“They often share a meal together. Tirza is married to his son. Why?”

“And Joshua knows both of these men?”

“Yes, but they can’t be the ones who are after him. They—”

“This girl Joshua wants to marry. Who is her father?”

“His name is Amasai. He’s one of the chief Levites, an expert on all of the priestly laws.”

Manasseh’s face went pale. He sat very still, poised like a predator about to strike his prey. Suddenly he stood and hurried to the door. He flung it open, and Dinah stared in horror at the captain who had beat her grandfather and nearly choked her to death.

“That’s him!” she screamed. “That’s the man who—” Manasseh turned to her, and when Dinah saw his face she knew she had made a terrible mistake. She had betrayed Joshua.

“He went to the home of Amasai, one of the chief Levites,” Manasseh told the captain. “Hurry!”

The king closed the door again and leaned his back against it. “I’m sorry, Dinah, but I finally realized tonight that your father has been making a fool of me for many years. And so has your brother.”

“I don’t understand. You and Joshua are closer than brothers. Abba has been like a father to you.”

Manasseh didn’t seem handsome to her anymore. The dark look on his face as he slowly walked toward the bed terrified her. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she knew she couldn’t possibly escape. She began to whimper.

“I want to go home. Please . . . please let me go home.” Manasseh shook his head. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked.