Asenath:Tears on the Sand Chapter 25

XXV

“Where is she? Where is Lady Asenath?” Oni asked frantically as she ran into the kitchen.

Servants grinding grain or pitting dates for breakfast just shrugged.

The head kitchen servant went around whacking silent girls with a rag. “You heard the girl! Who has seen the mistress?”

One shy girl stood slowly. “I saw her, ma’am.”

“When?”

“Last night. Master Zaphenath-paneah and she were….were running through the halls like children.”

The servants snickered.

Oni kept a straight face, but she was smiling inwardly. “Where did they go?”

#*#*#*#*#*#

“Asenath!”

Asenath struggled to open her eyes against the bright sun.

Oni was on the roof, trying to wake her up.

“I’m asleep. Leave me be.”

“But your mother! She’s awake and asking for you.”

Asenath hopped up. Joseph was gone, he always woke on time. Asenath rushed down the stairs and through the halls, not caring that her hair was still done in the Canaanite braid. Slaves stared, but she kept going.

She’s awake! Thank you Elohim!

She slowed as she reached the door and took a deep breath.

This is it. Help me.

She entered the cool, dimly-lit room. She noticed Oni had put out the incense fires and piled all the idols in a corner of the room. This room did not send shivers up Asenath’s spine like her father’s room had.

“Asenath?” her mother faltered.

“Mother! You are awake!”

“Sit here.”

Meekly, Asenath sat on the stool near the bed. “You called?”

Quibilah reached out her emaciated arm and placed it on Asenath’s belly. “Don’t let him hate me.”

She grasped the cold hand. “Never. The baby will love you. And…I love you too.”

“I’m sorry. I…I was not the best mother to you and when you…and the Pharaoh… and your father…I left you, hated you. You should leave me to die.”

Asenath choked back tears. “No, I forgive you. We can forget all that now.”

Quibilah’s weak eyes opened wide then hastily dropped. “If only the gods will be as forgiving as you. I will see them soon.” Her fingers trembled in Asenath’s hand. “I never knew what I really thought of the gods. I will know soon, won’t I?”

Asenath gulped. “I wish I could assure you that you are wrong, that you’ll live. But I don’t know what is going to happen. Because of that, I have to tell you something.” She pushed forward. “You said I was that I was forgiving. Well, that’s not exactly true. I only know how to be bitter, but Elohim gives me the ability to forgive.”

Quibilah weakly smiled. “I’m glad that works for you. I just have my own gods. Just different paths to the afterlife.”

How do I say this?

“That just can’t be true. Elohim says that He is the only true God. Either He is the only God or he is a lair, not a true God.”

“I guess we will never know until we die.”

“But remember when father cursed Manasseh to die and me to have another child.”

“How could I forget? He was really angry.”

“Manasseh lived and I’m pregnant! But when father trusted in Ra…”

Quibilah pulled the sheets closer to her neck. “Thank you for coming. I’m quite tired now.”

Blew it.

Asenath dipped a cloth into a bowl of icy water then placed it on her mother’s burning forehead.

“You are a good daughter.”

#*#*#*#*#

Asenath absent-mindedly stitched a crude flower onto the end of a white tunic.

Three days. Three days and still not healed.

Reziya gave her a toothless smile. “We aren’t gonna finish mendin if you keep up your day dreamin.”

“I suppose not. There’s just so much on my mind.”

A bright ray of sun shined out from behind a dark cloud. The brightness warmed her skin.

Reziya squinted at the sun. “Might rain.”

“It probably will. Egypt’s having another prosperous year.”

“The third in a row.”

“Only four more,” Asenath mused.

“Whatcha say?”

“Only four more years of plenty, then the famine.”

Reziya cackled, her wrinkles scrunching up. “I’ve heard the old wives’ tale.”

Asenath reached down to Manasseh’s cradle at her feet. She traced his strong jaw with her finger. “If the famine is an old wives’ tale, my son should be dead.”

Reziya gathered up the mending, muttering to herself, “Poor, crazy mistress.”

On her way out, Reziya walked straight into Oni.

“Is the mistress out on the porch?” Oni asked.

“Yes, she is ma’am. You should bring her in. She’s got a touch of sun.”

Oni nodded knowingly. “I’ll take care of it.” She walked in on Asenath’s gazing. “Asenath!”

They embraced. “How is she?”

“Weak, but awake. I just fed her the afternoon meal. All she could take was some mashed gruel and tea.”

Asenath responded gratefully. “Thank you. I know I have said this before, but you are more than a servant or a friend. You are family.”

“If I weren’t family, I wouldn’t be helping you like this.”

Asenath leaned down, brushed Manasseh’s soft forehead with her lips, and hurried off for her shift taking care of Quibilah.

The room was still except for the faint up and down of the sheets.

Still breathing.

Asenath paused to listen to her own breaths flow in and out.

What if they just stopped?

She took another breath, conscious of what a gift it truly was.

Quibilah’s eyes fluttered open. When she saw Asenath, she sat up straight and grabbed her wig from the floor. It balanced awkwardly on her head.

“No need to put on formalities. It’s just me,” said daughter.

“I know that. What do you think I am? A baby to be coddled! You have doted over me for days! You forget that I am your mother.”

“I remember perfectly. But sick people need to be doted on just a bit, no matter who you are.”

Quibilah raised her finger to continue scolding, but she shook her head. “I didn’t want to fight with you. This is difficult for me. I am a stubborn woman, you know. But I’ve been thinking about everything that has been happening recently.”

What is this about?

“Your father believed in Ra and money. And at the end of his life both failed him.”

“Yes…”

The sickly, wrinkled woman looked Asenath in the eyes. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Ready?”

She clenched her fists. “To believe in this Elohim of yours.”

Asenath blinked in disbelief. Believe!

“I want the peace that you have.’

“If you want to believe, you have to be all in. Elohim will not be only partially worshipped.”

“I know. But I am ready to do this.”

This is really happening!

Asenath grinned and threw her arms around her mother, pulling her close. The stale smell of sickness did not hold her back.

Quibilah returned the embrace passionately.

“This…this is one of the most amazing days of my life!”

Quibilah gazed at her timidly, like a lost child. “What should I do?”

“Let’s pray together.”

#*#*#*#*#*#

“Joseph, I can hardly believe it. When my father died, I had no idea how Elohim would use it in Mother’s life.”

Asenath’s fingers were laced into Joseph’s own. Manasseh slept swaddled to her back by a long strip of cloth. Her hair stuck to her sweaty skin, but she didn’t mind. The sun was finally setting, finally taking with it the oppressive humidity. Joseph led her towards the sound of the rushing Nile.

“I knew Jehovah-Jireh would provide And I’ve decided to ask your mother if she wants to come live with us after the funeral in a few weeks.”

Asenath leaned over and kissed him. “That would be perfect.”

They turned onto a tree-lined path, close to the river. Asenath faintly gasped.

“What is it, my love?”

Asenath! Slow down!

“Nothing. This path just brings back memories.”

“Good or bad?”

No one else is as worthy as you to be the wife of the Pharaoh.

“Both.”

The river gurgled and churned dark green and pale pink in the twilight. She dipped her toes into the sharply cold water. The current pulled-if she put her whole foot in, she could be swept.

She closed her eyes and remembered herself tearing down the same pathway with Amnon eighteen years ago. She could almost feel the wind rushing by her.

So much time and it only feels like yesterday.

Joseph’s voice called her back to the present. “What are you thinking about?”

“The past.”

“I try not to think too much about the past. It still hurts.”

Asenath leaned her head on his shoulder. She didn’t have to respond. Their hearts beat as one, feeling the same pains from the past.

“Yet there is so much to be thankful for in the present,” Joseph said. He rubbed the round bump forming on her belly. “And the future.”

Asenath looked up into the fully-laden branches of a mulberry tree.

Joseph followed her gaze. Reaching up, he pulled down two deep yellow fruit.

She took a bit of the tart fruit, letting the juice run down her chin.

These trees are like us.

“Joseph, what is the Hebrew word for ‘making fruitful’?

He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Ephraim. Why?”

“Ephraim.” She tested the word slowly. “We should name our child Ephraim.”

He thought a moment then smiled. “Ephraim, for Elohim has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.”