SIN and HONEY: Seven Years of Longing

Chapter 17: Rachel

"Shulmanish alik," Leah said. Go in peace. Rachel exited the tent, taking Achan's arm but not looking at him, hoping he wouldn't guess their trick.

  "I'm sorry, Leah,"Achan whispered, patting her hand as they walked into the pummeling onslaught of rain.

  "Achan," she said, lowering her voice like Leah's and squeezing his arm. "Perhaps you could spare me a moment to pray to my father's gods, in his tent. I would like assurance that they will help me find happiness after all."

  He paused, considering, as her heart raced. "Just a few moments," he said, steering her toward her father's tent. "But I am sure Laban would not mind, if you have seen the error of your ways."

  Once inside their father's tent, Rachel stayed as long as she dared, kneeling before the low altar lined with clay statues with wild eyes and outstretched arms. She poured wine in front of them, murmuring prayers, rocking back and forth, and then crumbled bread. Finally, after Achan repeatedly cleared his throat just outside the flap, she rose and stumbled outside into the rain. In front of them she spotted a crowd gathering as the sun rose somewhere behind thick clouds.

            Rachel was afraid to look up. The hem of her garment was trailing in the muddy dirt and puddles ...she could not trip and risk revealing her disguise. Soon she heard voices whispering blessings and saw a fuzzy vision of people kissing their fingertips and raising them to the cloudy sky. The sounds of flute music and the jangling hiss of the tambourine danced around her, accompanied by clapping hands.  Her stomach felt unsettled as the storm outside; she wanted no part of this celebration happening around her, but kept walking forward.

 Through the veil, she could make out their shapes: merchants in fine red robes—some of them brought their wives, who wore bright bangles on their arms that clanked as they clapped. Children ran around trying to catch the raindrops in their fists, and for a moment Rachel wished she were one of them. She saw two tall shapes that looked like Amit and Vered standing by the entrance to the tent, and looked down, afraid they would recognize her eyes even through the woven panel. It seemed that there was no end to the secrets. First they had lied to her, and now she was deceiving them.

 Rachel held herself tall as the crowd uttered their blessings in hushed voices. They reached out and touched her robe, blessing the bride as she walked to her future. Laban stood by the entrance to the tent, his arms crossed over his chest. Her sight was so unreliable beneath the veil, she could not tell if he was smiling or suspicious. Rachel felt her mouth go dry as she struggled to steady her breathing. She felt terrified, thrilled, and oddly helpless, as though she'd fallen into the river and was being pulled ahead by the current.

            When her gaze shifted out into the distance beyond the crowd, she saw a figure standing by the riverbank. She couldn't be sure, but she imagined it was Jacob, and prayed this was not the last time he would see her as a bride. But just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone as the wind swept up and camouflaged him from view.             

            Go in peace, she thought, before ripping her eyes away and entering the den of jackals. She could hear them already, hissing and hungry for her blood.  

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The drama heats up in the next chapter! 

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