The Gate of Heaven (22 page)

After the birth of Dan, Rachel's life assumed an even tenor. She had always loved caring for babies, but this one was very special. She could not nurse him, of course, but she could do everything else for him. She and Bilhah loved the child equally, it seemed, and they spent hours caring for the baby as he went through the problems of infancy.

The months sped by and quickly Bilhah became pregnant again. Again the two women looked forward to the birth of this child. As Bilhah grew heavier, more and more of little Dan's care fell to Rachel.

Finally Dan's brother was birthed as easily as Dan had been. For reasons she could not explain, Rachel was not as filled with joy this time. After the first excitement had passed away, she loved the new baby too, but something was still missing from her life. Rachel called his name Naphtali. Jacob was proud of this son as well, and Rachel gave him tender love and care. Yet an unsettledness lingered in her heart, a feeling she could not identify. The days passed slowly, and the feeling within her grew. It was like a memory she could not quite call up. As the days passed, she gradually acknowledged to herself that she still longed for a child born of her own flesh.

It was during this period of longing that Ziva grew ill. She had been sickly for a long time, passing blood and losing strength, and one day Bilhah mentioned, “I don't think Ziva will live much longer.”

“I believe you're right,” Rachel said. “I wish I could help her.”

“When the time comes to die, no one can help except the gods,” Bilhah said. She had never accepted Jacob's God. Indeed, he had not gone to many pains to help her understand. She cleaved to the gods of Laban, for she had grown up all of her life being told they were powerful.

The two women spoke of Ziva's possible death even as the old woman lay dying.

“Come closer, daughter.”

Leah had been sitting beside her dying mother for long hours. More than once she had thought that the woman had slipped away, but each time she had come back. Now Leah leaned forward and placed her hand on her mother's forehead. She had never been an affectionate daughter, nor had Ziva been an affectionate mother, but still it was blood answering to blood. “What is it, Mother?” she whispered.

“I am leaving this earth.” The voice was thin and cracked, and Leah had to lean closer to hear it. “I want you…to do something.”

“What is it, Mother? I will do whatever you say.”

“You must…tie Jacob to you in a stronger way.”

“How can I do that?”

“You have ceased childbearing. Give…give your maid Zilpah to Jacob as…Rachel has done with her maid.”

Leah blinked with surprise. She had never thought of this; she had always considered her own children enough for Jacob. But she knew Ziva had a mysterious sense of discernment, and she could well be right about this. “I will do it, Mother,” she promised.

“Every son you have ties him closer to you,” Ziva whispered. She did not speak again, and a few moments later she passed from life to death. Leah stood beside her, thinking of the old woman's last request, and knew that she would do exactly as Ziva had said.

After Ziva's funeral, Rachel was making a coat for Dan. She looked up when Jacob came in and held it up. “Do you like it?”

“Yes. It's very nice.”

Rachel chatted for a moment as Jacob sat beside her, but then she saw that Jacob's face was troubled. “What is it, husband?”

“Leah wants me to have children with her maid Zilpah, as I have with Bilhah.”

When Rachel did not speak, he said quickly, “The more sons a man has, the richer he is. Isn't that so?”

Rachel nodded, for she could not argue with this. She looked at him and made herself smile. “If that is what you want to do, I will not complain.”

Jacob shook his head. He was troubled, yet he had spoken the truth. A man's sons were his protection. If Laban had had ten or twelve strong sons, he would not have needed Jacob.

“I don't love Zilpah or Bilhah in the way that I love you, Rachel. You know that. You're the Beloved Wife.”

Rachel took his hand and waited for him to say that he didn't love Leah as he loved her, but she saw that he was preoccupied and troubled. She felt suddenly that if she asked him not to lie with Zilpah, he would honor her wishes. But she had taken the first step by offering him her own handmaiden, and now she gave up her will and said, “If it's a way for you to have more sons, then you must do it, husband.”

Rachel felt old beyond her years as she moved around serving at the harvest feast. The whole family was together now, and she filled her father's cup for what seemed like the hundredth time. Wine ran down his beard, and he was singing an obscene song in which her two brothers, Lomach and Benzar, joined in.
Were there ever three more vulgar men in all the world?
The thought had come to her many times before, and now she shook her head in despair. She moved back, and her eyes went around the family circle. Jacob now had ten sons ranging all the way from Reuben down to the youngest, Zebulun.

Somehow the passing years had left Rachel behind. Zilpah had done as Leah had asked of her and had become Jacob's concubine. She had produced two sons—Gad and Asher.

Strangely, during this time, Leah had a burst of productivity. In rapid succession, she produced both Issachar and Zebulun.

So here we are. Four wives and ten sons—and none of the sons are mine!
Rachel thought bitterly.

Her eyes went to Jacob, and a warm pride came over her. He was a good man, loving to everyone, and a better father she had never seen. He took pride in all of his sons, carrying them with him as soon as they were able to walk out to the hills. He taught them the ways of managing the herds and spent long hours teaching them the skills of sling and spear.

Jacob had also attempted to impress upon his family his concept of one God. This was difficult to do, for no one in this part of the world believed in such a thing. Laban continued to put his utmost confidence in his idols. But Jacob never gave up, and he spent long hours, usually at night, telling the stories of his forefathers, of Noah and Abraham and his own father, Isaac. His eyes often glowed as he talked of how God had appeared to him on his way to Paddan Aram, at the place he called Bethel, and he had told the story of the stairway reaching up into heaven so often that everyone in the family could repeat it word for word. As for the boys, they loved their father and were always in competition for his favor. They cared less for their mothers, it seemed, perhaps except for Judah and Reuben. They were the most affectionate of the boys, giving equal loyalty to Rachel and Leah. This infuriated Leah, but nothing she could say would change it.

Now as Rachel kept her eye on Jacob's face, she saw that he was troubled. After their years together, she had learned to know him well. She had given up on the thought of having a child, but Rachel loved Jacob more than ever. She knew he was worried because he actually owned nothing. The flocks, the herds, the cattle, all belonged to Laban. After all these years of arduous labor, the only things he could call his own were the clothes on his back, his wives, and his children. He told Rachel often that this was riches enough for him, but she knew his heart—how he longed for his own possessions, his own herds. Laban's wealth had increased since Jacob had come years ago, but Laban had no spark of gratitude for his son-in-law, and his sons were always envious.

“Are you going to bring me something to drink or not, Rachel?”

Leah's voice rose. She was pregnant now with another child and had become shrill and irritable over anything. She seemed to look upon Rachel as a servant. She often said, “Bilhah and Zilpah and I have children. You don't have anything else to do. It looks like you could show me
some
consideration!”

Jacob's eyes went at once to Leah. He got up quickly and filled her glass and said, “There you are, Leah.”

“Rachel could have done that. You didn't have to disturb yourself.”

“I don't mind. Now quiet yourself. All is well.”

Leah reached out and grabbed Jacob's robe and glared at Rachel. She had become more jealous over the years, for although Rachel had no children of her own, she was still the Beloved Wife. Jacob did not even try to hide this from people. Zilpah and Bilhah did not mind in the least, but Leah was jealous to the bone.

“You treat that woman like a queen!” Leah said. She flew into a fit, and when Rachel tried to quiet her, she took a cup of wine and dashed it into Rachel's face, cursing and raving.

Rachel wiped her eyes and left. Jacob looked down and put his hand on the back of Leah's neck. “Be quiet!” he said fiercely. “I won't permit you to behave like this. You have disgraced yourself.”

Leah opened her mouth to scream again, but Jacob's hand tightened on her neck, and she began to whimper. “Be quiet and go to your tent. I'm ashamed of you!”

Leah got to her feet and lumbered off, heavy with child and weeping.

Jacob turned and looked straight at Laban. “That's some more of your raising,” he said.

Laban started to speak, but Jacob said, “Close your mouth!”

Laban was an arrogant old man, but he had seen something in Jacob once before that frightened him. Now as he stood looking at his son-in-law, he knew this was not the time to assert his authority. He turned to Zilpah instead and ordered, “Give me some more wine.” She rose at once and began to wait on him.

Jacob turned and left the tent. He sought Rachel and found her sitting inside her tent. She had not even cleaned her face, and he found a cloth and dipped it into a pot of water and began to clean off her face. “Don't let it anger you,” he said. “She's not herself.” As he stroked Rachel's face with the cloth she did not speak.

“Rachel, are you all right?” He put himself before her and saw that her eyes were looking right through him. Alarmed, he asked, “Are you all right, my dear?” Still no answer. Jacob had never seen Rachel like this. She had always been the most stable woman he had ever known, but now she seemed to have gone somewhere deep inside herself. Those lovely eyes he had always adored were staring at him blankly. Fear came over Jacob, and he sat beside her, his arm around her. The minutes went by, and from time to time he would speak to her, but she still would not respond.

Finally after an hour he got up and said, “Lie down, my dear, and sleep.” She paid no heed, so he put her on the bed like a child, and she lay down obediently, her eyes staring straight up. “I'll stay right here beside you,” he whispered as a fear grew within him.

What if something happens to her?
he thought.
How could I live without her?
He took her hand and held it and kissed it, then he bowed over it and was shocked to feel tears forming in his eyes and running down his cheeks. He began to pray, “God, don't let her be destroyed. Bring her back from whatever place she's in.”

But the heavens were silent, as they had been for so many years. The Almighty did not speak, and Jacob's shoulders shook as he wept for his beloved Rachel.

As Jacob walked into the camp one evening, he saw Laban's two sons sitting with their backs against a tree in a drunken stupor. He stopped and stood stock-still. He had been gone since early morning doing the work these two should have done. All day he had been preoccupied with troubled thoughts about Rachel's strange behavior. She had been such a lively, outgoing woman, always cheerful and rarely complaining. But for over a week now she had been silent, speaking only when forced to. Her smile was gone, and she moved like an old woman. Leah had scolded her, telling her to snap out of it, but no amount of scolding would help. Jacob had been gentle as always, but whatever was wrong could not be fixed with kind words and caresses. With a cold dread, he thought she might be losing her mind, and now as he saw the two sots under the tree laughing, something snapped within him. His jaw tightened, and he swiftly crossed to where the two sat and stood over them. “Get up, you louts!”