“No, I won't have it!” Jacob declared.
“But, Fatherâ”
“Don't even talk to me about it, Reuben! It's an evil place filled with evil people.”
“I can't understand why you hate Egypt and the Egyptians so much. You've never even been there.”
“I don't have to go there to know what it's like.”
“They're men just like all other men, some good and some bad.”
“No, you're wrong about that, son. There's something wrong. They're an evil people.”
“Evil in what way?”
“Why, they worship gods made out of mud.”
“So do some of our neighbors, but we get along with them.”
“There's something perverted about them,” Jacob insisted, “and they don't dress modestly. Women wear dresses so thin you can see right through them.”
“I'm not suggesting we go down to Egypt and look at their women!” Reuben said, somewhat irritated. But then he made himself calm down, for he knew Jacob could be persuaded only by tact. “Tell me why you hate Egypt so much.”
Jacob closed his eyes for what seemed like a very long time before he began to speak. “A long time ago, right after I got the birthright from my brother, Esau, there was a famine in the land, son, just like this one.”
“You never told me about that.”
“It was terrible, just like it is now.”
“Did it last a long time?”
“It seemed like forever. I was afraid we were all going to die.”
“Some of us are afraid of that today.”
Jacob did not appear to have heard. “I went to my father, and I told him we were going to have to go there to seek food. Even in those days the famine wasn't as hard in Egypt. That's because of the Nile, you know. The river always rises unless there's a world drought, and they always have food when the rest of us don't.”
Reuben listened as Jacob meandered on. The old man liked to ornament his stories with side issues, and it took him forever to get to the point.
Finally Jacob seemed to recall himself. He shook his shoulders and brushed his hand across his face, adding, “I was very much afraid, but I gathered my courage to present my case to my father.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn't say anything other than he'd think about it.”
“Did he go? Did all of you go?”
“No. It was only a little while later that he came to me, and I still remember it clearly. We were out in the field. It was as dry as dust, and animals were dying everywhere. I was ready to go to Egypt then, but my father said on that day, âWe're not going to Egypt.'”
“Why did he say that?”
Jacob hesitated, then said, “He told me that God Almighty had appeared to him in a dream the night before, and He had said:
âDo not go down to Egypt. Live in the land where I tell you to live. Stay in this land for a while, and I will be with you and will bless you.'
”
Jacob told Reuben the rest of the story as he had heard it from his father, then said, “God knows best. If He didn't want my father to go down to Egypt, He doesn't want us to go.”
Reuben was silent for a long time, and finally he said, “I believe you ought to think about it, Father. I don't see any other way.”
“I can't imagine why God would want us to go to that place,” Jacob said and closed his eyes.
Reuben sighed. He knew the conversation was over. He got to his feet, and without another word, he went back to give his brothers the bad news.
****
No one ever really knew for sure what changed Jacob's mind about sending his sons to Egypt, but he called all eleven of his sons together and said, “We must have food. I have considered, Reuben, what you have said. If it must be so, then it must be. It saddens me, for I think no good can come of it.”
“So we can go?” Reuben said quickly.
“Yes, you can go.”
“Shall we all go?” Zebulun asked.
“All except Benjamin.”
“Oh, Father, let me go too!” Benjamin cried.
“No, my son, you must stay here with me. Your brothers can go get the food without you.”
Benjamin bit his lip, but he had little hope that his father would change his mind about the matter. He waited his chance, however, and when the others were gone, he said, “Please, Father, let me go with my brothers.”
Jacob reached up and put his hand on his son's head. “You are all that's left of the True Wife. I cannot spare you, my son. Speak no more of this.”
****
The donkeys were all ready, and Benjamin had come to see them off. “I wish I could go with you,” he said woefully to his brothers.
“We all know that,” Reuben said. “I didn't expect Father would let you go.”
“You'll have it easier here than we will. It's a long, hard journey,” Judah said, trying to be comforting.
“I don't care, Judah. I want to go! I don't know why Father has to treat me like a child.”
Benjamin helped the men with last-minute tasks, and finally when they were ready, he went to Reuben and said, “You're the firstborn. You can convince Father.”
Reuben stared at him. “I won't get the blessing from Father. I don't deserve anything. You will probably get it,” he said.
“Me! But I'm the youngest!”
Then Reuben said in an uncharacteristically sharp tone, “Our father has a way of manipulating people and events. If he wants the youngest to have the birthright and the blessing, you may be sure he'll have his own way.” He put his hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezed it. “I'll bring you back something special, Benjamin.”
“I wish I were going.”
Reuben merely shook his head and turned to mount his donkey. Jacob had come out to see them off, as well as Leah, Tamar, Bilhah, and Zilpah. Jacob gave his blessing to them, and then the brothers all headed south. Jacob held on to Benjamin's arm, and Leah, who was standing on his other side, said, “You can't keep him forever under your hand.”
Jacob could not answer, for he knew his feelings were irrational. He let go of Benjamin, took Leah's arm, and walked away with her. When they were beyond hearing distance of the others, he said, “I know I haven't been fair to you. I'm not a good man, Leah. I'm very selfish. You've given me six sons and a daughter, and I'm most thankful for them. I thank you now.”
Leah was not accustomed to soft words or any expression of affection from her husband, and his words brought tears to her eyes.
When Jacob saw them, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, “Don't cry, now. It's going to be all right.” He watched his sons disappearing over the horizon, his heart heavy as they faded from view.
The drought had narrowed the width of the mighty Nile significantly. As the river wound down from its source in the hills of Africa, it picked up some rain, but nothing like in the years preceding the drought when the torrents had poured out of the heavens, filling it to a mighty flood that rushed all the way down to the delta of Egypt. The wildlife had suffered greatly, for with all their watering holes dried up, thirst drove the animals toward the muddy banks of the shrunken river in large numbers, allowing them to be easily trapped by the predators.
The sun burned white-hot, seeming to scorch the very air. The intense blue, cloudless sky appeared as hard as Egypt's dried-out ground.
Asenath sat in a chair that had been brought down to the river for her, enjoying the shade of the umbrella a servant had fixed overhead. The hot wind still brushed her face, but at least she was shielded from the sun itself.
The playful cries of Joseph and her two sons rent the afternoon air, and Asenath looked with pride at the two sturdy boys as they frolicked in the dirt with their father. Joseph was down on his hands and knees, and Manasseh was straddling his back and yelling at the top of his lungs. Ephraim was no less vocal and was pulling at Joseph's hair, his dark eyes flashing as he struggled to pull Joseph down to the ground. A quick spurt of pride ran through Asenath as she watched the three. The boys had some of her characteristics and some of Joseph's. Around the eyes and the mouth they resembled her, but the dark, rebelliously curly hair and the nose were Joseph's. It was already obvious that they were going to be tall and strong like their father.
Joseph suddenly collapsed, and the two boys swarmed all over him, pummeling him and yelling for all they were worth.
Asenath finally called out, “Well, Great Provider, no one would mistake you for the second most important man in Egypt right now.”
Joseph grabbed Ephraim and roughed up the boy's hair, ignoring the boy's screams while Manasseh yanked at him. Like his sons, Joseph was dirty, coated with the dust of the dry ground adjacent to the riverbank, and wore only an apron, leaving his upper body and most of his legs bare.
“The second most important person in Egypt?” Joseph tried to look surprised and grabbed a boy under each arm, holding them there while they squirmed. “Why, I'm not even lord over my own house!”
Asenath laughed. “You are certainly a persecuted fellow. I don't see how a man like you can be such a great man in everyone's eyes. I wish they could see you now!”
“I'm glad they don't see me when you run over me like these boys are trying to do.”
Asenath laughed aloud. Indeed, she did run over Joseph at times, as he put it, but their marriage had been wonderful beyond her expectations. She thought back to the time before she was married, when she was so unhappy and unfulfilled. But then Joseph had come into her life in the strangest and most dramatic way, and now she glowed with health and pride and love for her husband and her two sons.
Joseph rose up, released Ephraim, and grabbed Manasseh. “It's time for you to wash that dirt off,” he said, and without further ado, he waded into the shallow, muddy water and tossed him out into the only slightly deeper water. The river was no more than two feet deep near the bank, and Manasseh turned a complete somersault and landed on his feet, screaming and laughing.
“Now you, Ephraim.”
“No!” Ephraim yelled and started to run. Joseph caught him easily, carried him out until he was knee-deep, and then tossed him out beside his brother. The two boys at once began splashing and continued their shrill cries.
“Joseph, be careful!”
When Joseph turned to look at Asenath, she saw an expression come onto his face she had learned to recognize. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she cried.
Joseph turned back to his sons and said, “Boys, would you like for your mother to join us in the river?”
“Yes! Yes!” both boys shouted together.
Asenath saw Joseph come for her, and with a cry she jumped up and started to run. She was a fleet runner, but Joseph overtook her easily. “Put me down, Joseph!” He picked her up as easily as if she were a child and started back toward the river. “Don't you dare throw me in that water, you beast!”
“Mothers are supposed to join their children in their playtime,” Joseph said, laughing. “It's what all good mothers do.”
Asenath was screaming, but Joseph simply waded out into the river. “Enjoy the Nile,” he said with a grin and dumped her in.
Asenath splashed noisily as her boys pulled at her. She was drenched and sputtering as she wiped the water off her face. She saw that Joseph was laughing so hard his eyes were squeezed shut. She started laughing too, and gathering what water she could in her hands, she threw it toward him, catching him in the face. “You are
awful
!” she cried.
“Pull him down, Mother!” Manasseh cried. He ran at his father, tugging at his legs, and Ephraim did the same with his other leg. Asenath caught Joseph in the stomach with her whole body and made a grab for his neck. The force of her leap overturned Joseph. With a boy hanging on each leg and his wife around his neck, he went down flat into the river, and the water closed about his face. He struggled and came up spouting water and grabbed Asenath. The four of them laughed and splashed under the sun as the servants, who stood nearby, tried to keep the smiles off their faces.
“Isn't this fun, Mother?” Ephraim said.
“Yes, it is.”
“You've never come to the river to bathe with us.”
“No, I haven't, but one time I was in this very river when a huge hippopotamus came to eat me alive.”
It was a favorite story and the two boys begged to hear it again. There in the muddy waters of the Nile, Asenath told them the familiar tale of how she had almost been eaten alive by a hippo.
“But he didn't eat you, did he, Mother?” Ephraim said.
“No, he didn't because your father saved me. He took a big spear and killed that old beast, and then he picked me up, just like he picks you up, and saved me from drowning.”
Joseph was stooped down in the water, allowing it to flow over his chest, enjoying the story. It was moments like these that made his life endurable. The pressures of being the second-in-command in Egypt were great indeed, and rare were the moments when he could get away to be with Asenath and his two sons. He listened as she spoke and thought again of how strange it was that God had put the two of them together. He often thought about life in this way, marveling over a God who would take such interest in puny human beings.
Finally Asenath said, “All right, boys. Come along. Try to wash off as much mud as you can.” She sent them in toward the shore and called out to the servants, “Dry them off and get them dressed!”
Joseph waded toward her, put his arms around her, and drew her close. He leaned forward, kissed her, and then put his lips next to her ear. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You have been a good wife today.”
“I have? But I'm always a good wife.”
“Especially good today, so tonight ⦠I'm going to give you a
very
special reward.” He leaned back and saw that she was blushing, as she always did when he spoke like this.