Till Shiloh Comes (34 page)

“That was a long time ago, and as I've tried to explain to you, God is in it all.”

“If you say so.” Rashidi shrugged his shoulders. “You still have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“According to what they all say, your father will never let your younger brother come to Egypt.”

Joseph stared at Rashidi and seemed to lose some of his exuberance. He paced back and forth, stroking his chin, then said, “God has worked so far. He will do the rest of it.”

“So we're to release them all except the one hostage?”

“Yes, but I have a scheme I want you to arrange.”

“You're a scheming man, Provider. What shall I do?”

“I want you to take their money they brought for the food, but before they leave, I want you to put that money back in their sacks.”

“Give them their money back?”

“Exactly!” Joseph's eyes gleamed. He had learned to be somewhat of an actor during his years of administrating the land. He'd had to deal with people on many levels, and if truth be told, there was a little of his father in him. Sometimes he was mischievous, playing jokes on his wife or on Rashidi. Now his eyes gleamed as he said, “Yes, I want you to do this. It will confuse them. They may guess I've arranged it, but they won't know exactly what I'm up to. I'll leave it to you to accomplish.”

“It will be as you say, master.”

“Oh,” Joseph added, “put the money in the top of their sacks so they'll see it when they open them on their journey away from here.”

“It'll scare the wits out of them,” Rashidi said with a shrug. “They won't know what in the world is happening.”

“Just do as I say, and I want to have one more meeting with them before they leave.”

****

The meeting took place as Joseph had demanded, and once again the brothers stood in front of the Great Provider. They were frightened half to death of the man, and all of them fell on their faces and pressed their foreheads to the floor.

“You may rise,” Joseph said in a grand fashion. He had disguised himself once again, and now his eyes went from one to the other. He said harshly, “I have spoken, and you know what you are to do.”

“Yes, O Great Provider,” Judah said. His voice was clear, but his face was pale, as were the faces of the others. “We will do our best, but I must tell you again our father has never allowed our younger brother to leave his side.”

“That may be a lie you are making up.”

“No, Excellency, it is not a lie! It is the exact truth.”

“Do not think you can deceive a man like me. I can see into men's hearts.” Joseph stared straight at Judah and saw the man quail before him. “I have spoken! Now, as to the arrangements. You will be given food according to the prices that are now fixed. I will deal with you in an honest way as far as business is concerned. The nine of you will go back, and the arrival of your youngest brother will redeem this brother's life.” He indicated Simeon, who by this time was reconciled to his fate. He stared back at Joseph without saying a word. Joseph got up and left the room. The nine brothers gathered around Simeon, encouraging him.

“Don't be afraid, Simeon,” Reuben said, patting him on the shoulder. “Somehow we'll persuade Father.”

“I don't think so,” Simeon said bluntly. “You know how he is about Benjamin.”

“Never fear, brother. We will not let you down.”

Simeon then said something that none of them ever forgot. He had been one of the most violent against Joseph back in the day of their dark hearts, but now he looked straight at Reuben and said, “We had another brother once, and we all failed him, and he was more righteous than I.”

A silence fell over the group, and then the guards came and said, “Come, fellow,” and all the brothers managed to touch Simeon, shaking his hand or patting him on the shoulder, as he was led away.

When the brothers had passed outside, Judah said, “Simeon is right. All I can think about is how Joseph cried to us and wept, and we hardened our hearts.”

“Come, we must go,” Reuben said loudly. “The quicker we get back to Father, the quicker we can start persuading him to let Benjamin return with us.”

By midmorning the animals were loaded, and the purchase price was weighed out. It was paid mostly in silver rings, which they had brought for that express purpose. The sacks were loaded—huge sacks bulging out over the flanks of the heavily laden beasts. They were ready to leave, but to their surprise the lord named Rashidi provided a meal for them. It was a good meal of lentil soup, sugar-covered raisins, and goat meat that had been cooked to a tender goodness. Despite their troubles, they ate heartily. They were also given food for the first days of their journey.

“This is the custom in Egypt,” Rashidi told them. “I would advise you to pay close attention to what the Great Provider has told you. He is not a man you can deceive.”

Dan snapped at him, “We are not deceitful men! We are honest and have told the exact truth!”

“Ah, I trust that is so, for you may rest assured you will not get anything out of the Lord of the Nile except you bring your brother as he has commanded. And now I counsel you to hurry, for your brother will wait here with some impatience.”

Reuben walked away toward the lead animal and led the group out of the city. They were all depressed about Simeon, and all were thinking about having to break the news to their father. It was a daunting thought, for Jacob was not a man to change his mind easily.

They traveled at a fast pace, and there was no talk among them except for the brief break they took at noon when they ate the food that had been provided. All of them seemed to avoid the glances of the others, and all were lost in their own thoughts. It should have been a time of gladness, for the beasts were loaded down with grain, which would be welcome at home, but Reuben said as they were eating, “This food won't last long shared among seventy people.”

“No,” Naphtali agreed, “and it won't do any good to come back again without Benjamin.”

All afternoon they traveled, and finally at dark they chose a camping ground, a pleasant spot between lime cliffs on one side and rolling plains on the other. There was a well there, and other people had camped before. Quickly they built up a fire, and some of them prepared their evening meal while the others unloaded the donkeys and put the packs together. Others drew water and piled branches for the fire. It was Issachar who fed the animals. Of all the brothers, he had the greatest concern for the beasts—indeed, he even seemed to like them.

They were just preparing to eat when Issachar went to the feed bag and pulled something out. He stared at it and then shouted, “Reuben, come here quickly!”

“What is it?” Reuben said. He was bending over the fire, and the smoke was in his eyes. He rubbed them and said, “What do you want?”

“Look what was in my sack!”

Reuben tossed another piece of wood on the fire and then walked over to where Issachar was standing. “Look,” he said. “What does it mean, brother?”

Reuben stared at the ten silver rings Issachar had brought to buy grain. He reached into the bag and picked up the rings, staring at them in his hand.

“What is it?” Judah asked, coming up beside Reuben.

Reuben turned and opened his hand. “It's … it's some of the money we brought to pay for the food.”

“What's it doing in there?” Judah demanded. He turned and said, “Issachar, what have you done?”

“I haven't done anything! I just opened the bag and there it was.”

“Didn't you give your money to the official?” Reuben demanded.

“Of course I did! You saw me do it, didn't you, Gad?”

All the brothers had gathered around now and were taking a good look at the rings. For a moment they all babbled, firing questions at Issachar, who denied any knowledge of how the rings got into his sack.

“What in the world could this mean?” Judah whispered.

“There's something terribly wrong about this,” Levi said.

“Yes, there is,” Judah said. Then a thought came to him, and he whirled and ran to his own beast. Jerking the feed bag off of the pommel, he opened it and stared down. “My money is here too,” he said, astonished.

All of them rushed to open the feed bags, and all of them had the same story. Reuben stood staring down at the money in his own bag, and his mind seemed to be working slowly. “This is insane,” he whispered hoarsely.

For a moment no one spoke, and then Dan said, “We'll have to go take this money back.”

“No, we can't do that,” Judah said.

“But they'll think we stole it.”

An argument began then, some wanting to go back and some wanting to get away as quickly as possible. Finally Reuben said heavily, “I have no idea what it means, but we can't go back.”

“We'll go to our father,” Judah said. “We'll convince him that we have to go back and take Benjamin, and when we go back, we'll give this money back to the Provider.”

It was not an answer that gave them any comfort, but they saw no other solution. Finally they ate a little, although their appetites were gone, then laid down in their bedrolls. In fact, none of them slept well that night.

****

Tamar had served Jacob his noon meal, a soup made from whatever she could throw together. She had made enough for Benjamin, and father and son had eaten together—the old man silent and Benjamin speaking about his brothers, wondering when they would come back. Tamar waited until they were finished, got their bowls, then retired, but not so far away that she could not hear what they were saying.

Benjamin had been moody during the absence of his brothers. He still was grieved that he had not been permitted to go, but he had stopped complaining to his father, for that was useless. The two had been talking about the history of his people, and Benjamin, after a long silence, decided to ask about something that had been troubling him for a long time.

“Father, may I ask you a question that may cause you a little grief?”

Jacob laughed and reached out and took the young man's hand and squeezed it. “Of course you can. I'm used to people asking me hard questions.”

“I've wondered about it so long, and no one seems to have any answers.”

“Just ask the question, my son.”

“How was it that you got the birthright instead of your brother, Esau?”

Jacob looked at Benjamin in surprise. He would have resented it if any of his other sons had asked such a question, but with Benjamin he could not be angry. “It is not a pleasant story, my son.”

“But it's always better to know the truth, isn't it, Father?”

“Yes, I think it is.” Jacob picked up a cup that was half filled with the sour milk he liked so well, took a swallow, then put it down. “People do not really understand what happened at that time. What have you heard?”

Benjamin hesitated, then said, “Well, sir, what I have heard is that my grandmother wanted you to have the blessing instead of Esau, and because your father was old and blind, she disguised you, and you pretended to be Esau, and that's how you got the blessing.”

“And what do you think of that, Benjamin?”

“Well, it doesn't seem—”

When Benjamin broke off, Jacob said quietly, “It doesn't sound honest, does it?”

“Well, I'm sure the story has been twisted. It's probably very different. I can't believe that Grandmother would do such a thing, or that you would, sir.”

“But we did.” Jacob saw the young man flinch and said quietly, “We did exactly what you said. I remember it so well. Indeed, how could I ever forget it? It changed my whole life. You must remember, my son, that most of life is just one boring day after another, but then there will come one moment when everything changes. It's like a man bends over to pick up something, and when he straightens up, the whole world around him has changed.”

“I don't understand you, Father.”

“Then listen.” Jacob took another sip of the soured milk and began to speak. Behind him, but staying hidden, Tamar was listening intently.

“My brother, Esau, was older than I. He was the firstborn, and he deserved the birthright. It was his according to all the traditions of our fathers. There's no question about that—but there's one thing that nobody really knows.”

“What is that, Father?”

“Before Esau and I were conceived, my mother, Rebekah, was barren for many years. She had no children, and, of course, it was a grief to her and to my father also. So my father entreated the Lord for his wife, because she was barren, and the Lord heard his prayer and my mother conceived.”

“You and your brother were conceived at the same time.”

“That is true, but you know our tradition. The one who is born first, even if only by minutes, is the firstborn.” Jacob's eyes were dreamy, and his voice fell so low that Tamar had to lean forward to catch his words. “But my mother felt strange about this birth. She knew she was carrying twins, and at times as she told me, it seemed that my brother and I were fighting in her womb.”

“That must have been strange.”

“Indeed it was. So strange that my mother went to inquire of the Lord. She told me she prayed, ‘Why is this thing happening to me? Why is there such struggling in my womb?'”

“And did the Lord hear her?”

“The Lord always hears, but sometimes He does not answer.” Jacob smiled faintly. “But this time He did. She told me the exact words that the Lord said to her, and I have kept them all the years that have passed since then, for it was the most important thing God ever said to any of our people since he first spoke to Abraham.”

“What were the words, sir?”

Jacob remembered the words exactly: “‘Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you will be separated; one people will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger.'”