Amethyst Part Two
Reumah took to singing like one of the birds from Egypt's menagerie that had been set free. She sang as she cooked, she sang as she mended the tent, and she sang as she washed the clothing in the little stream that flowed near the base of the mountain.
Iscah and Leah and Adah went often went with her to wash, and would look up at the mountain and the smoke that still surrounded it. It seemed a common sight now, as a week or two passed, and though Aaron and the judges had come down, Moses still remained on top of the mountain, talking with Yahweh.
Sometimes Iscah walked to the perimeter and and stood close to the painted rocks. Her own stone, her amethyst, weighed heavily in her pocket. She fingered it lightly, and sometimes took it from her pocket and held it up to the light, as long as no one was around to see it.
It was the most wonderful thing in the world to her, except when Reumah and Leah wore their plunder- Reumah her gold earrings and Leah her ornately beaded gold clasp that held her hair up like a Hittite princess. Iscah could not wear her amethyst, and sometimes she wished she'd been given something else.
Sometimes, too, she would go down to the stream and see the other young women there, laughing as they washed clothing or earthenware pots. They would be dressed up in jewelry, but they never once looked down on Iscah for her lack of ornament. And for that Iscah was grateful.
More days went by, and more and more often Carmi would come home with a tale of unrest among the rulers and judges. For a boy of ten, he was strangely interested in the leadership of the camp. He and a few other boys spent time near the tent of the rulers, or visited the tents spread out through the camp where the judges heard cases and kept order.
“Today Zicri and and Enosh had an argument,” he told them one evening, his eyes wide with the importance of his news. “They could not decide on the proper verdict of a case, and they would not go to Aaron either, to find what Yahweh wanted. I think they've forgotten Yahweh again.” His eyes were grave.
Iscah looked at her family, gathered around the fire to eat the evening meal. Her parents looked a little worried.
“I wonder what is keeping Moses so long,” Reumah murmured. “He did not even leave his aide to help us, but took him up the mountain as well.”
“I think Aaron can take care of things for a few weeks,” Samlah said. But he looked upset still. He must have heard the rumors too, Iscah thought.
She began to lay awake at night, but not full of contentedness. Now she was afraid that her nation, staying too long in one place, would forget Yahweh and become rotten, like manna that stayed in the tent over night and in the morning, was full of maggots.
Samlah had never done anything in his life but carve embellishments on statues and pillars, and thus became quite skilled at it. Now, however, he had no livelihood, and so he took it into his head to purchase a small flock of sheep and take up shepherding like his ancestors. So he moved his tent to the outskirts of the camp like the rest of the shepherds, and tended the sheep with Carmi's help during the day.
It was a shaky livelihood for a desert wanderer, but he felt as though he were providing for his family in a small way, in case the manna ever ceased to fall.
In Iscah's opinion it was foolish; her father did not know a thing about sheep. But Reumah had no objection. It kept her husband and restless son occupied during the long desert days.
Iscah did not mind, however, that moving to the edge of the camp left her with a clearer view of the mountains, and Mt. Sinai in particular.
She noticed that as another week went by with no sign of Moses, fewer people stopped to stare in awe at the mountain as they went about their day. Now it was as though the thunder and smoke on the mountain were nothing out of the ordinary. To her chagrin, Iscah realized that even she thought less and less often about the presence on top of the mountain.
One day Samlah returned with to his tent after a long day with his flock, with a troubled expression.
“Arguments in the camp happen more and more often I hear,” he said. “We are not unified. If only Moses were to come back to us. What can have happened to him? We are a people who have been ruled and controlled in every aspect of our lives for as long as we can remember. Now that we are free, what are we to do?”
“Hush,” Reumah scolded him, glancing at her children's innocent faces around the fire. “You're talking like those troublemakers who asked Moses and Yahweh, 'have you brought us here to the desert to die? We were better off in Egypt!'”
“Not so, Reumah,” Samlah disagreed. “I will never desire to go back to that place. I only wish we had some direction. Yahweh has answered us immediately in the past. I don't understand what's taking him so long now.”
“I do not know, Samlah. But I think we must be patient, even if most in the camp are not.”
Louder than the sound of the thunder on the mountain came a frenzied cry all over the camp.
It was afternoon of the next day, and Reumah and her daughters were again mending the tent when they heard the great noise. Adah began to weep.
“What is it?” Leah asked, fear in her eyes.
“I cannot tell if it is the sound of victory or the sound of anguish,” Reumah thought aloud.
Iscah ran to the entrance of the tent and pushed aside the flap. Her eyes widened as she beheld the mass of people running in all directions, some jubilant, some dancing like drunkards, and some scornful and fearful.
Just then Carmi entered the tent, panting eagerly for air. Iscah followed him inside to where he stood with the others.
“Father...” He panted, “Allowed me to... roam the camp today... instead of tending the sheep. I heard it all, Mama,” he said. “It started this morning. Some of the rules confronted Aaron, saying,” he paused to recollect, “'Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this Moses fellow who brought us up out of Egypt, we don't know what has happened to him.'”
“And Aaron agreed?” Reumah demanded, her eyes alight with anger.
“Eventually, yes. He didn't seem as disgruntled as they were. He said to them, 'Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons, and your daughters are wearing and bring them to me.' I think he is going to make an idol from the gold and call it our god.” Carmi's face held a look of confusion, as though he didn't know what to make of the situation.
“And the people are gleefully giving away all they have because they have already forgotten the One who has provided for them,” Reumah spat out. But she did not voice her fear that Yahweh would leave the people who seemed now to despise him.
“Some of the youths are raiding the tents of those who have gold they will not give up,” Carmi said then in a small voice, glancing fearfully at his mother and sister.
“Well they shall not have ours,” Reumah said, reaching to take Leah's clasp from her hair for her. “We will hide them in our pockets. They may search our tent if they dare, but they had better not touch us.”
“Would you like me to go get Abba?” Carmi asked, fidgeting nervously as the fracas outside reached a crescendo. In a nearby tent something was heard to shatter.
“No, Carmi. Stay here.” Reumah said, gathering her children near her. “Oh Yahweh,” Iscah heard her whisper. “Hear what's going on down here and act for us.”
Iscah's heart beat rapidly with fear and with anger. Unknowingly she reached into her pocket and held the amethyst possessively in her fist.
Mere seconds passed before three dark-haired youths burst through the tent flap, drunk on greed and revelry.
“Out!” Reumah shouted, seething. “How dare you come in here uninvited?”
They paid her no heed. They lunged first at Leah who had not yet stowed away her gold clasp.
She screamed and fought; Carmi and Iscah watched,frozen with shock.
But it was not until the tallest of the youths, around eighteen years, advanced on Reumah that Carmi came out of his shock.
“Give us the earrings, woman,” the youth said, “and we shan't harm anyone.
“Out!” Reumah shouted again, louder this time. Her hands flew to her ears; she had forgotten to take out her earrings.
“Fine,” said he, and gave Adah a brutal shove out of his way. He lunged at Reumah and took hold of the earrings with greedy hands.
“These belong to our god!” he shouted, and ripped the earrings from her ears.
The sound of Reumah's cry of pain and the tearing of flesh seemed to startle even the youth, who backed away with blood on his hands.
Carmi leaped at him then, and began punching wildly, but behind him the second boy landed a blow to his shoulder. The third held the arms of both Leah and Iscah, but was losing his battle against them, infuriated as they were.
“Let's go,” said the first, a scornful note in his voice. “This is all they are able to offer our new god.” He started to leave, and the third boy let go his hold on Leah and Iscah. Iscah took that moment to strike him across the cheek with her fist; the sharp edge of the amethyst protruded from her fist and soon blood began to trickle down his chin.
He grabbed her wrist with sudden fury and pried her hand open.
“What is this?” he said smugly, holding the stone to the light.
“No!” Iscah screamed, throwing herself at the amethyst, devastation seeping into her like a thick fog.
“Let's go,” the first repeated, and immediately they brushed aside the tent flap and hurried away.
“No!” Iscah screamed again, watching the retreat with red-tinted vision. The amethyst- it was hers, her very own. Yahweh meant her to have it, and now it was gone. And it was all she had.
But Carmi was not to be defeated. He pulled himself from the ground and charged after them. Iscah followed him as far as the opening until Reumah called her back.
“Iscah, it's over,” she said, pain and weariness in her voice. “Come hold Adah so Leah can patch my ears.”
Iscah tore her eyes from the retreating figures and looked back at her mother, sunk to the floor with blood staining her neck on either side. Adah was in her arms, weeping, and Leah was trying to awaken herself from her own daze.
Iscah hesitated a moment, her loss still heavy on her, but the sight of her sister's tears and her mother's blood brought her back to their side.
Quickly she helped Leah tear strips from the tent they had just mended, to soak up the blood, which had long since subsided.
“Why would anyone do that, Mama?” Leah choked, trying not to cry.
“For the same reason we were robbed of our freedom long ago in Egypt: greed, and the chasing after of worthless idols.” Reumah said. She sighed. “If you desire the favor of a so-called god enough to harm others or enslave them, that idol is not worthy to be followed.”
“I regret ever making a single brick for the wall of some temple to the gods,” Iscah seethed, shaking as she held Adah to her.
“I think I like Yahweh's way better,” Adah ventured from Iscah's shoulder. And Iscah heartily agreed.
Samlah hurried home mere moments later, his eyes full of panic. “I heard the news. Are you alright?”
“They robbed us, Abba,” Leah told him. “And they pulled Mama's earrings right from her ears!”
“Those disrespectful fools!” Samlah roared, taking his wife into his arms. He scanned his children's faces, assessing their conditions. “Where's Carmi?” he asked.
With pride in her voice Iscah told him, “He was here, but he took off after the robbers!”
“I hope he'll be alright,” Reumah whispered.
Amazingly, Carmi burst into the tent just as she spoke. He looked exhausted but triumphant.
“I got it!” He exclaimed, with eyes full of joy. He ran to Iscah and waved her amethyst before her. “I tackled him and wrestled it from him! But I could not get the earrings or the clasp,” he added sadly.
Shock and amazement spread over Iscah's face as her brother reverently returned her amethyst to her hands.
“I didn't even know you had that,” Leah said curiously. Iscah held it out, to show her family. “This is my plunder,” she said proudly, and pulled her little brother into an enthusiastic embrace.
Tears ran down her face even after Reumah had taken her son to herself and began to soothe his own cuts, and after he had been thanked and praised by them all. Carmi would wear his black eye as a trophy for some days, but Iscah would always remember and be proud of him, even after it had faded.
Silently, she also thanked Yahweh for returning her amethyst. She felt more than ever that he had meant it just for her.
She would wait on him to restore justice to the rest of the camp, just as he had restored her amethyst to her.
postscript
Part two of three. Please Enjoy. And here's a note: it has been pointed out to me that Jews did not speak aloud Yahweh's name. I was aware of this, but was not sure if it was that way as far back as the exodus. In either case, I'm not worried about it. My use of his name is an act of worship, as it were, on my own part. Very mild violence in this one; being injured in the ears is going to produce far less blood, I think, than deserves a T rating, lol. There is also symbolism in here that those of you who serve the same God I do will catch, I think.