The Gate of Heaven (39 page)

“That is an amazing thing,” Jacob said, shaking his head.

Demetrius looked down at the ground. “My dear brother was killed by a bull. I've never forgotten it.”

“Oh my, that's too bad!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Many were killed and injured. I never worried about myself, but I worried about my sister all the time. But she was the best of us, really.”

“How did such a strange thing come about, Demetrius? I've never even heard of such a thing in Egypt or anywhere else.”

“I don't think anyone really knows, sir. There is a story of the gods that's told. According to it, Zeus, the king of the gods, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Europa, a princess from this very country. He appeared to her first in the shape of a bull, and later she bore him a son called Minos. This man established a kingdom on our island and became a great king indeed. Every year Athens was forced to send him a ship filled with young men and women. They were fed to a creature called the Minotaur. He was part bull and part man.” Demetrius shrugged and shook his head, a smile on his face. “This monster, according to the myth, lurked in a labyrinth. It was a building full of passages so intricate that no one who entered would ever find the way out. In one famous story Theseus, a Greek, unwound a ball of thread as he stalked the Minotaur through the labyrinth. He killed the Minotaur with a magic sword given him by Minos's love-stricken daughter Ardine. And, of course, he could follow the trail of thread and escaped.”

“Do people believe that story?”

“No, I don't think so really. It's just a pleasant story. We have movements of the earth often in my country. They are very frightening. The land shakes and wide cracks open up. Superstitious people say that's the Minotaur still alive and shaking the earth from somewhere deep down.”

“And this bull. People worship it?”

“Well, it's very prominent in our religion. As you enter the palace, there's a giant painting of a charging bull on the east wall. And there are horns carved from magic blocks of stones in all the rooms and hallways. Sometimes the officials pour libations from the vessels fashioned in the shape of a bull's head.”

“What about the afterlife?” Jacob asked. He was intensely interested in such things, and his eyes glowed as he added, “Do your people believe in that?”

The question seemed to make Demetrius uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose after a fashion, but you know how the Egyptians build huge structures to preserve the bodies of the pharaohs? We don't do anything like that. We build simple tombs, but it's almost as if our people have shut out of their minds such things as any life after death.” Then he asked, “What do you believe about such things, sir?”

“I believe that we are made for more than this life.”

“Has your God told you this?”

Jacob shook his head. “No, but the hope of such a thing seems to be in our people. I think one day God will tell us more about himself and about the life that is to come.”

“I'm very interested in this God you call the Lord.”

“Are you, now?” Jacob needed no other invitation. He drew Demetrius down to sit on a bench and began to tell him about his God. “God has always sought men,” he said. He continued to speak of God's dealings with men according to the old tales passed down for generations. He spoke of the flood and of Noah and said, “Our family comes from Noah's son named Shem.”

“I've heard,” Demetrius said cautiously, “that you actually wrestled with your God and that's how you hurt your hip.”

“I don't know if it was the Lord or merely one of His servants. I think He probably has many.”

“But you've said that He is a God of love. He crippled you. Doesn't sound like a God of love to me.”

Jacob's eyes burned, and at that moment Demetrius realized the depth of this old man who sat across from him. “Sometimes men are so stubborn that God has to get their attention any way He can. If He has to break me, that's a small price to pay for finding the God of all power.”

Demetrius listened with interest. “I'd like to know this God, but I'm not a Hebrew.”

Jacob thought for a moment and then said, “I don't think God is only interested in the Hebrews. As a matter of fact, the most godly man my father ever mentioned was a king called Melchizedek. He wasn't a Hebrew, but he knew God better than anyone my grandfather Abraham had ever met.”

The two men sat there silently, and finally Jacob looked at the young man and said fervently, “I think the Strong God, the Almighty, will hear any man or any woman who calls on Him with a hungry heart.” He rose up and said, “I didn't mean to keep you so long.”

“It's very interesting. If there is such a God and you're right, a man would be a fool not to seek after Him,” Demetrius said.

“Perhaps, then, we can talk more at another time,” Jacob said, smiling.

“Indeed, I would like that, sir!”

Dinah sat impatiently as Leah brushed her hair. She was looking at herself in the highly polished bronze mirror that Demetrius had made for her. It was so much better than any of the other mirrors, that she had grudgingly admitted it, even to him. Lowering the mirror, she said, “I'd have a maid if I hadn't bought that Demetrius.”

Leah stopped brushing and smoothed Dinah's hair down with her free hand. “Why don't you have Jacob sell him? Then you could buy a maid.”

Dinah didn't answer for a moment and then she said, “Maybe I will the next time he's impudent.”

“Aren't you the least bit grateful that he kept you from getting killed by that bull?”

“I wouldn't have been killed. I would have gotten away.”

“That's not the way I heard it,” Leah said dryly.

“Aren't you about through there, Mother?”

“Yes. And if that's all the thanks I get, you can brush your own hair next time. Or get Demetrius to do it.” She laughed, saying, “That would be a sight to see.”

“Don't be foolish! I don't want him touching me.” She flushed as she said this, for she had not been able to forget the kiss that Demetrius had given her. It infuriated her that she could not laugh it off, and now she said, “When are we going to leave for the festival?”

“As soon as your father says so.”

“Men!” Dinah exclaimed. “They get to decide everything.”

“You should have been born a man.”

“I wish I had,” Dinah said. She got up and walked about impatiently, then looked out the door of the tent and said, “Have you ever seen King Hamor?”

“Of course not. None of us have. Not even your father.” Leah tossed the brush down on Dinah's chair and said, “We don't exactly move in the same world as kings and princes.”

“I've heard his son Shechem is the handsomest man in the country.”

“If he's rich, then everybody would think he was handsome.”

“I wouldn't. If he's ugly, he's ugly.” She pouted for a moment and then said, “I wish we could hurry up and go. I get so bored of being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. I don't know why we can't live in the village.”

“Because we make our living with sheep. You can't keep thousands of sheep in the middle of a village. Now, don't be so foolish. We'll be staying three or four days during the festival,” she added, “so be sure to take plenty of clothes.”

“I will.” Dinah suddenly smiled. “I'll pack it all and let Demetrius carry it.” The thought pleased her, and she laughed aloud. “I'll wear him out by the time we get to the village.”
I'll have the best time there,
she thought.
There'll be singing and dancing and lots of good food. I may not meet the prince, but there'll be lots of handsome young men there, I'll wager
.

The screams and laughter of the young girls who were trampling out the grapes in a large wooden vat caught King Hamor's eye. He turned around to stop and stare at them. “It's a wonder we don't taste their feet in the wine we drink. There must be a better way to get the juice out of grapes and make good wine.”

Hamor was a man of no more than average height and was running toward being fat. His clothes were rich, and the turban on his head contained flashing jewels. He turned to the young man beside him. “Do you see any there worth your trouble, Shechem?”

The prince was as slender as a knife blade. He was somewhat taller than his father, and his clothes were even more ornate. Even his shoes were imbedded with red and green stones that glittered in the sun. From his turban he had exotic plumes, brought from some far country, that trembled in the breeze. He had a thin face and was dark complected, but his eyes were large and well shaped, and his mouth full, with a sensuous look about it.

“Who are these people? Are they farmers?”

“No. They're shepherds.”

“I don't know anything about them. Do they have a king?”

“Oh no. They don't own any land. How could they have a king? Don't be foolish, my son.”

“Well, who are they, then? Where do they come from?”

“I don't know, but I know one thing. They've got more cattle than anyone I've ever seen in my life. Their herds are huge. They call themselves Hebrews.”

“Hebrews! I've never heard of them.”

“They're just wandering shepherds. The leader is a man of some stature. His name is Israel, so I hear.” His eyes went back to the young women who were laughing as they trampled out the grapes and then to the men, strangers to him but all bearing the earmarks of a shepherd. “I rode through their herds one day. They seemed to stretch out forever.” A crafty look came to his face. He was no fool, this Hamor, and always kept his eyes out for opportunities to increase his fortunes. He glanced back toward the women and said, “Those are their women, I suppose. Do they please you?”

Shechem's back arched, and he looked and said, “That one there might be nice to taste. A real desert flower.”

“Which one?”

“That one. The one with the reddish hair. See what pale skin she has and a body to drive a man crazy, at least I
think
so. It's hard to tell under those robes.”

Hamor suddenly laughed. “How many wives do you have now in your House of Delight?”

“None prettier than that one.”

Hamor ceased to smile. He studied the young woman carefully, then turned to face his son. “An alliance with these people wouldn't be all bad.” He smiled. “We'd never run short of meat if we had herds like these people have.”

Shechem stared at his father, and an understanding came to him. “There's always room for one more in the House of Delight, and that one would be a delight. She's probably never known a man. I'd like to teach her a few tricks.”

“I wouldn't say no to an alliance with the House of Israel.”

“You don't care about Israel,” Shechem said, laughing scornfully. “You just want his flocks and herds.”

“Don't be so cynical, my son!”

Shechem knew his father well. He nodded and moved over toward the young woman. “I'll see what can be done.”