Signs and Wonders (11 page)

The old man fixed Jacob with his tortoise eyes, Jacob looked back at him. They stood in the field among the goats staring at each other. Finally Jacob spoke: “Here is my last offer. It means a certain risk for both of us, but much more for me. Go with your men among your sheep, your goats, and your cattle. Separate all those that are spotted or speckled or striped or parti-colored, leaving me only those of solid color, and these are the flocks I shall tend. Now, when the time comes for me to go I shall take as my wage only those of the increase that are spotted or speckled or streaked or parti-colored.”

Laban pondered this, head bent. He was a merchant, a man of the counting house. His herds and flocks had always been tended by others. But it seemed to him that Jacob was making a very bad bargain for himself. For the young of animals, even more than those of humans, resemble their parents.

Laban smiled. “So be it,” he said. “I am being less than prudent, I know. But I am simply unable to control these impulses of generosity, when confronted by the demands of kinship.”

He called his men, and they went through the flocks of sheep and goats and the herds of cattle, cutting out those who were speckled or spotted or streaked or parti-colored, and drove them off, leaving Jacob only with those of solid color.

What Jacob knew and Laban did not was that the mating of solid-colored stock will usually produce parti-colored offspring if sire and dam are of different colors. So Jacob took the white bulls to serve black cows, and black bulls to serve the brown cows, and black rams to serve white ewes, and bred the goats in the same fashion. More than that, Jacob took great pains to cull herd and flock of weaker stock. Even though it meant a loss in numbers at first, he knew that the stronger animals would be more fruitful and their offspring much more likely to survive.

In the fourth year it was reported to Laban that Jacob’s cattle had become a wonder to the countryside. “Sheep and goats and kine, sleek and fat and fine. And many of them, master—oh, many—are speckled and striped.”

Laban sent men to spy upon Jacob, who was expecting this and performed certain acts just for them. He peeled willow wands so that they were striped green and white and stuck them in the gutters of the watering troughs. He marched the freshening sheep and cows and she-goats past the wands, as if the sight of these peeled sticks would stripe the offspring inside the womb. The men ran back to Laban telling what they had seen.

“A trick!” raged Laban. “A foul piece of magic to cheat the laws of breeding. It is not in the bargain !” But then he thought further and said: “This trick of peeled wands may explain the striping of the young. But how about the rate of increase among his stock—and their size and strength? There is something more that he does. Go spy again.” Jacob spoke to Rachel. She let drop among the women that each morning she would take the little wooden idols from the house and sit them on the fence to watch over the cattle and bless their couplings.

This, too, was reported to Laban, who thereupon took all his household idols and had his men place them on the pasture fence. The idols sat on the fence staring woodenly at the animals. But Laban’s herds did not prosper.

“I do have a magic,” said Jacob to Rachel. “But it is the kind of thing no spy will discover, nor can it be understood by anyone who tries to get something for nothing. Diligence and care and some knowledge of animal ways, these are the sorcery. And, of course, each morning before I go to the field I ask the Lord to bless my labors. And this God is no little puppet but the one God Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, who is everywhere at all times.”

Now six years had passed, and Laban saw that Jacob could claim as wage hundreds of speckled and spotted, striped and parti-colored animals—that, according to agreement, he could leave with great flocks and herds, more than Laban himself owned. And the old man did not feel kindly toward Jacob.

The Lord spoke to Jacob, saying, “It is time to leave this place. Return to the land of your fathers, and I will go with you.”

Jacob called Leah and Rachel to him and said: “Your father begins to hate me, because my flocks increase and I shall be able to claim a great part of that increase as my wage. Therefore I wish to return to Canaan, taking you and the children. Will you go with me or stay home with your father?”

Leah said: “He is no longer our father. He has disinherited us. You have increased his flocks a hundredfold, and that was our bride price, but he has never given us our share. He has sold us like servants. Anything you take from him now is only what he owes you, and to us, and to the children.”

“It is so,” said Rachel. This was the first time since Jacob’s coming that the sisters had agreed about anything.

“So be it,” said Jacob. “We leave tomorrow.”

He gathered his sheep and goats and cattle, and camels and donkeys. He mounted the women and children on camels, but rode a horse himself so that he could drive the cattle. And they left their tents, which were outside the city, and set off for Canaan.

The night before, Rachel had gone back to Laban’s house and taken certain wooden idols, called teraphim, that had been in her room. She had known them all her life and cherished them. She believed they had eased her pains during the birth of Joseph. Since she was with child again, she did not wish to leave the idols behind. She hid them in the saddlebags of her camel.

It was a large company that struck tents in the chilly dawn—Jacob, Leah, Rachel, the two handmaids, Bilhah and Zilpah, their eleven sons, and Dinah, the one daughter. When Laban heard that they had left, taking the flocks and herds that were Jacob’s wage, he decided to kill Jacob. He called his men together and set out in pursuit. Seven days he pursued them. He overtook them on a plain before a mountain called Gilead. There Laban encamped, meaning to attack in the morning.

That night God appeared to him in a dream and said: “I am the God of Jacob, God of Abraham and Isaac. You do not know me, but I know you, Laban. And I say to you, do not harm Jacob in any way.”

Laban did not believe in dreams, but he was not a man to take chances. He left his men encamped on the plain and rode alone to Jacob’s tent, Jacob came to meet him.

“Why did you leave in that unfriendly way?” cried Laban. “Why did you carry off my daughters as though they were captives taken by the sword?”

“They are not captives.”

“Why did you flee without a word to me? Why did you not tell me that you wanted to go? I would have feasted you as becomes my son-in-law, and sent you on your way with mirth and song, with the music of the taboret and harp.”

“Let us say that, knowing your lavish nature, I wished to spare you the expense of hiring musicians,” said Jacob.

“I wasn’t even able to kiss my daughters good-bye. Or my grandchildren. You should not have done this, Jacob. I have men with me. I could punish you for your treachery.”

“I have no troops,” said Jacob. “My God guards me on this journey. He does not make a show of weapons, but do not take Him lightly.”

“Certainly not,” said Laban. “I respect all gods, even those I cannot see. I suppose you think these flocks and herds you have driven off from Haran are your just wage?”

“I do. And you know it to be so.”

“And the kindly idols made of wood that were stolen out of my house—were they part of your wage?”

“I know nothing about any idols.”

“They were stolen on the night that you departed. Someone here took them. I want them back.”

“Why would I need wooden images?” cried Jacob. “Or anyone here? Search for them. Search my tents, everyone. If any of my family or any of my servants has indeed stolen them, I say that person shall not live!”

Of course Jacob did not know that Rachel had taken her father’s household idols.

Laban strode off and searched all the tents; he found nothing. He went into Rachel’s tent. She knew he was coming and was sitting on the saddlebags in which she had hidden the idols.

“Pardon me for not rising, dear Father,” she said. “I am stiff from the journey.”

Laban grunted and searched the rest of the tent, then stamped out.

“Have you found them?” said Jacob.

“I have found nothing,” said Laban.

“Before you go, let me say this, O father-in-law. You complain about the great herds and flocks of speckled animals that I have taken as my wage. But cast your mind back over the twenty years that I have served you. Seven years of it was a straight cheat—as you know—because you shuffled daughters on my wedding night. During those twenty years that I labored among your flocks, increasing them a hundredfold, I took all the losses myself as if I were the owner, not the herdsman. Those lost to drought, and calves and lambs born dead, all those I subtracted from my share. All those lost to wild beasts, those, also, have I tallied to your favor. Look upon me, Laban. You will never meet an honest man. For you cannot recognize honesty.”

“It may be so,” said Laban. “But be kind. You have what you want, for all that I did or meant to do. You go to Canaan with a large family; I return to an empty house. You are protected by a god I cannot begin to understand, but whose power I have felt. My gods are little wooden dolls, and most of them are chipped, and some of them are stolen.”

“It is true,” said Jacob.

“For all that I have done and not done I beg your forgiveness,” said Laban. “Now let me kiss my grandchildren farewell.”

And Jacob and Laban swore peace between them forevermore. The old man went to his daughters and his grandchildren, and kissed them all farewell, and blessed them, and departed.

Now Jacob had but one more river to cross before going into Canaan, and he knew that he must at last meet his brother, Esau. He tried to prepare the way. He sent messengers over the river, bidding them seek out Esau. “Say these words to Esau: ‘Your brother Jacob has sojourned with Laban these twenty years. Now he has come home with oxen and donkeys and flocks of sheep, and goats and herds of cattle, and menservants and women servants. More than this, he comes with wives who are the daughters of Laban, and with eleven sons and a daughter. He comes home a man of wealth, but his one wish is to be your servant and to beseech your forgiveness for all that he has done.’ ”

Jacob waited on the eastern bank of the river for the messengers to return. They came the next day, saying, “Esau comes with four hundred horsemen. They come like the wind, raising dust before them. And all men shrink before their coming.” Jacob raised his face to heaven and said: “Oh, Lord, you bade me return to Canaan, and here I am. Here, too, is my brother Esau, who comes to smite me. Deliver me, I pray you, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau.”

No voice answered, and Jacob took steps for himself. He divided his company in two, saying, “He can attack only one encampment at a time; this will give the other one a chance to escape.” Then he called his herdsmen and prepared a rich gift for Esau: two hundred she-goats, twenty he-goats; two hundred ewes and twenty rams; thirty milk camels with their colts; forty cows and ten bulls; twenty donkeys and ten foals. He had his herdsmen divide the stock, drove by drove, bidding them ford the river with their stock, and travel toward Esau.

“When you meet my brother,” he said, “say this: These belong to your servant, Jacob, who gives them to his brother Esau.’ ”

That night Jacob left his tent and slept alone in a field, for he knew what the next day might bring, and he wanted to be ready if God wished to speak to him. He had noticed that God preferred to show Himself outdoors. It was a hot night and a rocky field. Overhead hung a great chandelier of stars. Their white fire burned into his marrow, and even in the depths of his fear he wondered at God’s handiwork. Wondering, he fell asleep. Light struck his eyeballs. Heat touched his face. He leaped to his feet. There in the blackness of the night he saw one striding toward him terrible and bright. “Who are you?” he cried.

The stranger did not answer but strode toward him. “It is Esau,” Jacob said to himself, “Esau grown more terrible, brilliant with rage, and primed for murder.” His heart shuddered; his breath caught in his throat, and his legs trembled. The stranger was very close now. “I die,” said Jacob. Then he thought, not of his own death, but of the way of the victor among the vanquished. Of women raped and put to the sword, of children taken by the legs and their brains dashed out against the stones. He thought of Rachel being forced to the ground. He thought of Joseph, his beloved little Joseph, lifted suddenly by the ankles in those brutal red-furred hands. He heard a sound he did not recognize. It was himself growling in his throat like a sheepdog when a wolf nears his flock.

Jacob flung himself on the stranger and seized him. All thought of self was gone. He was only a pair of hands to hold back the attacker of Rachel and Joseph, a pair of hands to hold, to punch, to gouge. A pair of legs to thresh and kick, a head to butt, teeth to bite. He grappled the stranger close.

The one who had come in the night had a terrible easy strength, like the spate of a river in flood. Jacob was shaken and buffeted. But his fingers had become rods of steel. He grasped the enemy and would not let him go.

Now the blows from that huge heavy fist seemed to be falling from a great distance. The pull of the stranger’s arms as he strove with Jacob seemed to be coming from the very center of the earth. Still Jacob clung. A swoon was stealing over his senses; he knew he could not hold out much longer.

And now with the tip of one finger the other touched Jacob in the hollow of his thigh. Jacob’s leg locked. The sinew of his thigh shrank under the uncanny touch; his leg dangled useless. But Jacob planted his good leg and held on, although in agony. A mist passed over him. The foeman held Jacob so he could not move. “What is your name?” Jacob heard a voice say.

“You know my name. I am Jacob. Are you not Esau?”

“You are no longer Jacob,” said the voice. “Your name is Israel now.”

And Jacob was filled with awe. For the name Israel in that language meant “he who wrestles God.”

“Who are you?” Jacob whispered.