Family

She heard the neighbor’s cock crowing a long crescendo, rolling over her dreaming consciousness. Unlike many of the village cocks he reliably woke and announced the day just at the right time. Time to get up, dress, feed the fire and make bread.

Her husband felt her stirring and wrapped his arm around her, snuggling closer. It was tempting to close her eyes again and sleep warmly just a little longer. Pictures in her head rise unbidden, blocking out the remnant of her dream. All the things she needs to do today. Wash day, oh the work of it. At least she had Milli’s help, although as big as Milli was getting she would probably beg off.

Best get to it. Yawning she rises. Behind her Abe lets out a low moan of protest.

What was she dreaming? She remembered packing all of her belongings. Lined up, tied in rugs and bed coverings. She couldn’t get it all together and she kept taking it all out and redoing it. Trying to get everything organized.

Well maybe it was the household gods reminding her she needed to wash her bedding. Not today, she wasn’t going to wash all that. She had enough with her and Abe’s, Fathers things and probably Milli’s and Nar’s as well. A certainly if Milli declined to help. Oh, and a few items of little Lo’s.

She glances across the room to where Lo’s tiny body tucks tightly against Fathers hulking form. Since her mother’s death last winter Lo has kept his grandfather company, especially during the long lonely nights. The child has been a great comfort to him.

Her eyes tear up at the thought. Lo is the one bright spot in their lives after the horrible string of tragedies. First the death of Abe’s oldest brother, Lo’s father. It was a stupid, unnecessary death. A foolish fight between brothers. Nar, the spoiled youngest son of the family, whose wild temper and love of wine caused him to challenge his older brother over the affections of a young girl. At the time Nar was still single and was taken with a buxom dark eyed beauty, only to find out she was besotted with his oldest married brother. Stupid, stupid men.

           The fight, more of a pushing match really, resulted in Lo’s father falling off the roof at night. He died instantly from a crushing injury to his head. His death orphaned Lo, whose mother died in child birth the year before, and widowed Ebba, his father’s second wife.

Rai never really cared for the second wife. Marriage to Ebba was one of convenience for Lo’s father. She brought a generous dowry, a warm body and an able caregiver for Lo. Lo’s father ignored Ebba most of the time and eventually she responded with anger and resentment. The young wife made life miserable for everyone and they all began to wonder if the marriage had been a mistake. Never-the-less, her end was not what any of them would have wished. After the exposure of her husband’s infidelity and the resulting fight ending in his death, she took her life in the river bordering their town.

Poor Lo, losing two mothers in his short life.

After the death of Ebba, both Abe and a chastened, guilty Nar decided to marry girls who were relatives and not look for trouble outside the family. Milli and Rai were married just months apart.

Rai saw two bright eyes spot hers. Lo crawled from under the blanket and comes running on his tippy toes across the floor. Her heart does a little spike at the smile splitting his tiny face. She reaches out to catch him as he leaps into her arms. He is small, just as his mother had been. Though he is the mirror image of his father, he is only half the size his father was at age seven.

Two huge black eyes fringed with curving long lashes sit above a tiny sculpted, upturned nose. His wide smile could shrink to a tiny pink tulip pout given any provocation. He is quick in mind and tongue and has a family member wrapped around each of his tiny fingers. Her love for him is unreasonable. He is not her child and yet he is.

“My Rai,” he whispers against her neck. And she is, totally and completely his.

She hoists him up on her hip and crosses the room to where the dough is rising. She punches it down and begins to feed the banked coals with pieces of cow dung. She pulls a bowl of soaking grains to her and scoops out a small amount for Lo. She puts him on the floor and he plucks the grains, one by one from his hand. He knows it will take her some time to finish with the bread. She pulls out a hunk of dough and begins rolling and flattening it for the oven.

Her activity wakes the rest of the household. Nar and Milli stir in their bed, although she doesn’t expect them to rise until the food is almost ready. She can hear Abe dressing and Father pushes himself slowly to a sitting position. Lo runs to his grandfather and offers some of his grain.

“No child, I’ll wait and have mine with yogurt.”

Then Lo runs to Abe and offers the thoroughly squashed grains to his uncle. “Have some Abba”.

Abe grins through his beard and seriously comments on the offering, “You are very generous my son, but I think you should eat them instead.”

Lo returns to her side to check on the progress of the bread. Soon it is rapidly browning against the coals and she shifts it toward her with a flattened paddle.

Their morning meal is finished almost before it begins. The men devour the food as though it might disappear if they waited too long. Milli eats almost as much as the men, cutting down Rai’s portion. She doesn’t mind. One day soon her belly will swell with a child and Milli will be fixing the food and doing the laundry.

She gets up while they finish dipping up the last of the yogurt and starts gathering up the soiled clothing. Milli makes no move to assist her. Rai hesitates, “Milli do you want to join me at the well?’

“No, dear Rai, I am feeling weak and tired. Could bring us back some water?”

Rai stifles her irritation, “Today is laundry day so I will be busy with that for some time. I thought maybe you could bring the water back while I wash all of our clothing.”

Milli squirms against the pillow she is leaning against, “Oh, I’d forgotten. Well, I don’t know if I can manage the water by myself. Maybe later, after you finish with the laundry, we can go together.”

“Of course,” Rai responds with a tight smile.

“I can carry the water Mama,” Lo dances around the room.

She giggles picturing Lo dragging the filled sheep skin behind him.

“Nar can get the water” Father Glares across at Nar’s shocked face.

“Father, men don’t fetch water,” Nar responds in a totally offended voice.

Father struggles up from his spot on the rug and walks out the door without a word.

Silence fills the room and it feels as though it has squeezed every breath of air out the door.

Rai gathers up the clothing, shoving it quickly in a basket, so quickly she is certain she has forgotten something.

“Come on Lo,” you can help me.

Lo places his hands on his hips, “Men don’t do laundry, Mama.”

Everyone laughs, grateful for the lightning of the mood.

Rai walks down to the well, deep in thought. This has been coming for some time. Nar was fortunate father didn’t kill him out right after his older brother’s death. It would have been his right to do so. However, Nar was her mother’s only son. She had lost other children in childbirth, other sons, between Nar and Rai’s birth. Both Abe and his brother Haran were sons of Father’s first wife Sharma. After her death Father remarried her mother.

Soon after the marriage, Abe left the home and invested some of his mother’s dowry in a caravan. He was gone for many years. He returned when Rai was ten years old. She fell in love with her stepbrother the very first moment she saw him and he later with her. They married when she was fourteen.

Marriage of half siblings was looked down on but generally accepted if the mothers were not related. Abe was older and had been out of the home for a long time. He was settled and well off so it seemed a good match in the eyes of everyone but the eligible young women of their village.

Father adored her mother and would never do anything to hurt her, so Nar’s crime of manslaughter went unpunished. However, it became a thorn in her father’s flesh. His oldest son, his heir, dead over a foolish argument. Her mother’s death was the pulled cork that unplugged the whole fermenting mess. She felt her father’s anger building, rising, ready to explode.

The laundry is finished much quicker than she imagined. Her thoughts must have done the scrubbing for her. She never even noticed the work of it. Before she knew it she is loading the twisted wet clothing into the basket.

Lo is a mess, covered in mud. She quickly strips him out of his little robe, washes it and rings the water over his protesting head. She fills the sheep skin with water and slings it over her shoulder while perching the basket of wet clothing on her head.

Once home she makes her way up the stairs to the roof, to hang the laundry out to dry. All the men are gone, out to the field. The wheat had been planted and was coming up a bright green haze over the plowed fields. The men feel the need to supervise its growing. Checking each other’s fields, commenting on weed growth. Surveying the sky for the possibility of rain, discussing the breeding of oxen and sheep. Finally sharing a simple meal of olives and bread under a tree, they will settled the important issues of the day.

In the cool darkness of the house Milli is propped up against pillows, munching on pistachios and olives. She watches Rai pouring water into the family cistern. Rai, saves back a little to pour in a jug to mix with the evenings wine.

Rai sits down next to Milli and helps herself to some of the nuts and olives.

Milli lets out a long breath, “What is wrong with Father. He is so angry lately. He never talks to either Nar or I. I know he misses your mother but He seems to be getting worse.

Rai thinks it over, knowing that Milli is right. Nar married Milli who was his oldest brother’s, daughter. Perhaps he thought it would somehow make up for causing Haran’s death. Who could say? Father seemed to approve at the time, but now it seems like they both irritate and make him angry.

At times she has been angry with them as well. It seems that Abe, like Rai, takes on most of the household responsibilities and chores, while Nar and Milli are content to just let them do the work. She decides she needs to talk to Abe about all of this. She is uncomfortable in the atmosphere and feels helpless to make it better.

She looks at Milli’s sad face and feels bad for her. She gives Milli a hug and says, “Sometimes grieving takes a while. Father loved my mother more than he or anyone realized. I think he is only now coming to terms with her death. Also, he has never adjusted to losing your father. He won’t talk about either of them. The combined loss was really more than he could take. We all have experienced loss during this time but his is so much greater.”

           “But why does he pick on us, it’s not like we caused it all.” Mille sulks into her pillows, “he doesn’t take it out on you and Abe.”

           Rai tries not to roll her eyes. Mille has no idea that Nar is responsible for Haran’s death. As a family they have never talked about it. Everyone thinks it was just an unfortunate accident. Only Father, Mother and Abe were witness to it. The only reason she knows the truth is because she was awake when it happened and overheard her parents discussing it. She and Abe discussed it after they married but haven’t talked about it for some time.

           Later, the men straggle in. Even though it is spring, the day is warm and they all look tired and hungry. So what else is new, thinks Rai. They aren’t talking as they usually do, and Abe looks very serious.

           Rai sets out the evening meal. Left over lamb stew from last night served over a big bed of couscous and freshly baked bread. Lo snuggles between Abe and her father taking bites from each of them. Though typically the women and children eat afterwards, Lo somehow manages to get fed with the men and then again when she and Milli eat.

           She chews on a dried apricot waiting until they finish. When they quietly get up. She and Milli pick up the remnants and eat what is left. She pours them some watered wine and they sit and relax before cleaning up. They look at each other and shrug their shoulders at the unusual quiet. Only Lo chatters away and they listen and respond to him in low voices.

           As she and Milli clean up, Abe comes up behind her placing his hand on her shoulders.

           He whispers into her ear, “are you too tired to take a walk later?’

           “No, not at all. It is a nice evening for a walk.”

 And it was, the sky was impossibly clear and as the sun hid its face behind the mountains the blue turned to turquoise and finally to rose tinted with gold.

Abraham looked at his beautiful wife. The sinking sun highlighting the red in her hair. She was a prize, a beautiful prize and every time he looked at her he wondered anew at his good fortune. She turned her head suddenly, fixing her golden eyes on him. Her earrings caught the last glimmer of light as they swung away from her face. His breath caught in his throat. She was tall, almost as tall as he and her smile took away all the hurt and pain he was feeling.

He looked at her with a glimmer of a smile altering his serious expression. “Sarai, Father want us to leave Ur. He says he can no longer bear to live in our house any longer. He wants to leave the ghosts of Haran and your mother behind.”

“Leave, leave our home, but where would we go?” Her beautiful smile transforms into a mask of shock and despair.

“Father wants to go to Canaan. I’ve told him about my travels many times and he wants to see all the things I’ve told him about.”

“But why there, why give up all we have here just so he can see the world?” And what about Milli’s baby? She can’t travel now, it will be six moons after the babes birth before it will be safe for them to leave.

“Father says Nabor and Milli can stay here until she is ready to travel. Then they can join us in Haran. He plans to stop there for a break. He has an old friend who lives there. We will remain in Haran until Nabor and Milli can join us. Then we will all go to Canaan together.”

“What about you Abe, what do you think? Don’t you have a say in any of this? This place is your inheritance. As the oldest it will come to you after Father dies. You don’t want to leave, do you? It is our home.”

“Something tells me it is the right thing to do Sarai,” he looks from her to the southwest horizon.” I’ve felt a stirring in me the last couple of years. Almost like someone is whispering in my ear telling me to go. Yet I didn’t know where or why.”

Rai remember her dream. The packing and unpacking. Her eyes fill with tears at the thought of leaving their home. She looks at Abraham, his strong shoulders silhouetted against the sky. She turns and focuses on the house with the oil lamp flickering inside.

Turning again to her husband, who now looks at her tenderly she know that he is her home, not that house. Wherever he goes she will be at home.