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<p style=”text-align: center;”>Chapter I</p>
<p style=”text-align: center;”>~a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted~</p>
Joab ben Elizer, of the tribe of Judah owned a two-story home with a wide guests’ courtyard in Bethlehem. It was a small, though not unimportant town, two miles from Chena’s home. Joab had a wife, named Rachel, and one son named Ruben ben Joab. Joab and Rachel had tried to have kids for a long time. Years before they had been blessed with a baby girl, a child who had died just two hours after birth. The mid-wife had told them that Rachel would likely never have another.

Yet Jehovah had seen fit to prove the statement wrong by sending them Ruben. That was around ten winters prior. The ben Elizers were close friends with Jehoshaphat and his family. On hearing rumors of their plight the next morning, Joab had traveled the few miles quicker than he ever had before on foot. (He had loaned their donkey to friends two days before.) Hoping, and praying the family would be alright…

 

Chena first became aware that she was moving, then of a bright light, a scratchy beard, and a dirt road. She felt arms encircling her. Then she fully awoke. The child began to struggle, screaming, scratching, trying to bite.

“Chena,” a soft, but firm voice spoke, and tried to caress her head, “Shh, shh; you’ll be all right child.  I am taking you home.” He looked down at her with tears glistening on his dark brown beard; his quaky voice tried to assure her, “Can you walk child?”

Chena licked her lips, eyes still quite big as she nodded. Ben Elizer let her feet grace the dry soil little by little. Her legs were unsteady at first, but soon blood flowed. Chena’s eyes were scared and empty, dark portals to the turmoil in her mind. She kept thinking about everything that had happened. Her mother, Levi, and Malachi were gone. Daddy was dead; and the image of Jehoshaphat’s violated form wouldn’t leave her mind. Tears came; the tiny diamonds gliding down her muddy cheeks in spaced out intervals. She held onto Joab’s legs like she was a house built upon vapor, and scared to fall.

After just a bit Chena’s feet started dragging, then she was stumbling. She just wanted to sleep. Sleep and never wake up. Joab perceived the need and chose to carry her a while, caressing Chena’s fragile back as he walked. Her small hands clutched his wide back, resting her head on his firm shoulder. Chena bit the inside of her cheeks till they bled, eyes hurting from lack of blinking. The image of her daddy still kept encroaching, creeping, and crawling back away from the recesses of her besieged mind.

They soon came to Bethlehem. The town was a bustle with people working, selling, cooking, and just wandering around. It smelled of manure, and shop owners haggled over prices, each voice getting louder and louder as they competed for customers and volume. Things were normal in the tiny town.

Chena looked about. She stared at everyone as a spectator. She wasn’t dancing around the stalls, her mother trying to keep up with the happy young girl. Chena who would always spin around, and make any wizened face smile.

They rounded a corner and walked several more yards until they came to a sign that read, ‘Place to Unharness’. Joab entered his home with Chena now walking close beside him. Rachel came to the door seconds after the squeaking hinges announced their entry.

The woman was homely, with thick, brown, curly hair, in a single braid down her back. Her figure was fine, and her stomach only showed a little plumpness. Rachel stumbled over her words, confused, as she saw the little girl, “Joab, Chena?” She leaned in close to her husband, and after kissing Joab’s cheek asked in a whisper, “I knew you were going to see if the rumors were right…but, but this? You brought her home?” Rachel made a slight gesture to the girl frozen in the entryway.

Joab’s brows lowered, and his sandaled foot tapped, If only he could get his hands on the one who had passed by the smoldering place without so much as checking to see if there were any survivors… “What did you want me to do Rachel?” His voice cracked like a whip. Rachel straightened, noticing Joab’s red eyes for the first time, “There is nothing left of her home. Jehoshaphat and his youngest are dead, the other boy and Jadon are missing. What did you wish me to do? Leave her there to die?”

Rachel stood straighter, a frown pinching her usually light-hearted expression. She shook her head, bottom lip beginning to tremble, “I’m sorry Joab.” She placed a hand to the man’s shoulder. When she tried to give him a hug he pushed away. “Jehosaphat was a good friend to you.”

Joab swallowed hard, “The best,” Rachel tilted her head, then gently as a whisper wiped a large tear on her husband’s leathered face.

The mother then looked to the orphan. And with a nigh unto invisible sigh, she knelt in front of Chena, “Hello sweetie?” Rachel tried to smile at the child, but Chena’s face didn’t change. Joab’s wife bit her lip and looked up to her short husband, “Has she said anything?”

Joab shook his head, and Rachel looked back to the child, cocking her head, “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Rachel rose, knees popping, and stuck out a hand. Chena obeyed, placing her soft hand into Rachel’s calloused one. “After you are clean, and you are out of that dirty under-dress, Ruben should be back inside from the animals.”

Chena nodded, jaw set, and eyes unperceiving.

When Rachel gave Chena a wet rag to clean herself with, the child didn’t know what to do. Rachel had to take charge, putting Chena in a barrel, and scrubbing all the grim, and blood off her.

After Chena was dried, one of Rachel’s large dresses was slid over the girl’s head. After this, Rachel bid Chena onto the board she shared every night with Joab. “Try to get some sleep, while I go fetch Ruben.” Chena nodded to let Rachel know that she had heard. She felt hot, and dry inside.

Rachel smiled, her eyes open in their sorrow, yet hopeful as she stared down to the little girl. It was a pity Jehosaphat had never spoken of his family, and Jadon had always gone tight lipped when relations were mentioned.

Sleep didn’t come to the girl. She lay staring up to the ceiling.

After several minutes the curtain separating the master’s bed from the rest of the home fluttered.  Chena sniffled but didn’t move.

“Chena?” A boy’s voice called hesitantly as a mouse speaking to a feline.

Chena swallowed hard, and sniffled again.

Ruben had always been Malachi’s best friend. He was funny, and usually kind to Chena. But Chena didn’t want the regular story or jest. She wanted her mother, and brother, wanted to know what had happened to them. She wanted to feel her daddy’s strong arms wrapped about her, his beard to tickle her face, or for his voice to assure her things would be all right in the end.

“Can I please come in Chena?”

She wanted to call for him to enter, but she couldn’t will her mouth to open. Then Rachel’s voice reached her ears, and the drape peeled outward. “Go on in Ruben…She won’t bite you?”

The boy swallowed hard then stepped through, as if not quite sure his mother had told the truth. The wind from Rachel letting the sheet fall shut ruffled the boy’s walnut colored hair, blocking his exit. Ruben sighed, and then waved at Chena from beside the veil. His thin lips twitched in the corner, and he wiped his eyes. Ruben’s lashes were wet.

She rose up from the board like the moon from the horizon. Eyes wide, yet hidden.

“Hi, Chena,” Ruben said just above a whisper, “My, my mother told me what happened. And, and even though it won’t help, help what happened… I, I’m-I’m sorry.” The young boy swallowed hard, and looked to the ground. No doubt thinking of Malachi, they had been near to brothers.

Chena’s eyes sparkled a little, as she bounded off the bed and ran to Ruben. Her skinny, six-year-old arms wrapping about the bigger boy. Her tears started to flow again as she pushed her head deep into his upper stomach. She smelled him, he smelt like Malachi. He probably hurt like her. He had lost her brother too.

Ruben was shocked; What would the rabbi say?  Then he decided that Chena was in need, a poor girl who had lost everything, and he put his sturdy arms around her. King Solomon had been recorded to say- Whoso stops his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.

They squeezed each other’s torso so tight that Ruben considered them bursting like old wine skins with new wine. Chena didn’t care. The only other person she trusted in the world right then, was Malachi’s best friend. Ruben ben Joab. She welcomed every bit of closeness he offered.

Ruben guided Chena back over to his parent’s bed, and after a second of panic, let Chena put her head in his lap. Then he began to rub her lower back. Rachel liked it when Ruben rubbed her in private, and he suspected Chena would too. Ruben could feel her lungs’ steady release, and fill as she breathed. She seemed to almost drop to sleep. Ruben stopped to fiddle with her long, soft hair.

They stayed quiet for about thirty minutes when he asked, “Would, would you tell me what happened?” Her body had tensed before the question was over, “You don’t have to.” He rushed on, “Don’t tell me anything if you don’t want to. But, I’m, I, I…want to know.” Then he waited, when he had lost track of time small tears began to run down Chena’s cheeks and onto Ruben’s knees.

Then she began talking. It all came out in blubbers, and sounded like the gibberish of a two year old. When she was at the end she tears, and snot were running down her young face, “The soldiers didn’t see me Ruben. Eloha kept me, me for some reason.”

“A miracle?”

Chena’s dark eyebrows crunched, and she tilted her head up at Ruben.

“You were saved indeed Chena. You were saved alive! Hidden in the cleft of the rock as Moses, and Elias.”

After a few more minutes Ruben left Chena, saying she needed time to rest. The little girl waited a bit, wanting him to return. Then she gave up, and followed him out the flap.

***

The next morning…

Rachel smiled at Ruben, as the boy shuffled into the kitchen, bumping into the counter as he reached for his breakfast. “Good morning Ruben, did you have a good night’s rest?”

“I hope Chena will be alright.” Ruben yawned, using his tanned right hand to rub his baggy eyes. Then his brows furrowed as he looked down into his bowl. It was mush; just a bunch of left-over’s splattered into the same pot. Yuck!

“I’m glad you’re so kind to her.” Rachel went on, leaning closer to Ruben, looking from him, to his food.

It’s mush. He wanted to scoot from the table, or drop it on the floor when his mother wasn’t looking. But his mind had bigger problems, What of Malachi? His brother was likely dead. And what of their oath to always chesed and protect each other’s family?

Ruben’s brow set, “Can Chena stay here mama?” The boy’s hard brows lifted with his caramel eyes as they searched Rachel’s face.

He then shifted from side to side in his chair at his mother’s unchanging expression.

Rachel paused, and lowered her brows. She stared at her son as if he was crazy, and Ruben blushed. “I think you should talk to your father about her staying. I’m sure if she works hard here. Doing chores, helping me with the cooking, cleaning, and picking up after the guests…” Rachel’s eyes began to glitter as she tried to look skeptical. “She would also need to help you with the animals in the stable we border and keep. If she and your father agree… I think she can stay.”

“Thank you Mama!” Ruben jumped up, lunged forward, lips pecking her cheek, before bouncing back, “Love ya!” then he was out the back door like a shot to ask his father. Effectively leaving his mother, and (more important) the mush behind.

Rachel chuckled, chin lifted, and eyes shining as she shook her head, staring after her beautiful boy. Rachel had already known that Chena would be staying with them. Joab and Rachel had decided so last night. She would likely stay until the time of her nuptials to Ruben.

(Ruben and Chena were promised to each other.) It had been in effect between the two fathers since the year before. The children just didn’t know it yet.

Chena’s parents had been outcasts from their family a few cities north. The couple had moved here to get away. The child did not know why any more than the ben Elizers. In turn, Chena had no family that could take her in. The ben Elizers didn’t even know how to contact them about the deaths.

Rachel grabbed a rag, smiling to herself. Then she began to hum as she started to clean the family’s low table.

Even though Rachel would never have wished for such circumstances, and her heart ached for the girl and her mother. Her heart swelled as she considered…She had a daughter?

 

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When is chapter three of your book coming out? I can’t wait to read it?! (: