I Am Not an Adulteress Anymore

Chapter 24

The Next Morning:

It is the last day of the feast and the day that Phanuel told me I would have a decision on the divorce. Without it, Ephraim could come back and find me, drag me off to Samaria, beating me the entire trip home. I wonder if it will happen soon, or if he has forgotten about me altogether by now.

Since experiencing Simeon, I have thought so little of Ephraim. I have felt such little pain at his rejection. It is almost like I am born anew. Only tomorrow, Simeon will leave forever, and Ephraim may come back.

I shake the thought from my head and hurry to prepare myself. The road to the temple is so crowded people are pressed one to another as they jostle to move forward. I hear the now-familiar buzzing of the crowd, and I wonder if perhaps he is there again. My heart leaps inadvertently, but not in the way it burns for Simeon.

But when I get into the temple courtyard, it is nearly empty. I hear the distant buzz, and I realize then that this Jesus is somewhere else in the city, drawing the crowds away from the temple and toward him. For a moment I want to break away and follow them, but then I remember I have important business.

When I get inside the temple, I ask for Phanuel and am directed to a small, poorly-lit back room. He looks up from the scroll he is reading and frowns, then nods at the spot on the floor next to him.

I approach.

"Hanna," he says. My skin is tingling. I can already tell he is not going to give me good news.

"The council has spoken. For such a request to be granted there must be witnesses, evidence."

My face reddens. "I am alone here," I say.

"Are you?" he asks, and my face reddens more. I see people have spoken. I see someone has seen. But how much?

I sigh. "There is no one from the village, only the Samaritan shepherd who took pity on me, who I ran across after I escaped. He helped me get here. Without him, robbers may have killed me."

As I speak, my gaze darts to the floor. When I return it, I see his eyes boring into mine.

"Are you sure that is the order of events?" he asks.

"Yes," I respond, my voice emphatic. I am again near tears. "Please," I say. "It was a mistake to marry a Samaritan." But even as I speak the words, pain fills my chest. I am at this moment betraying Simeon, and yet I must. "I want to stay here," I say. "I want to help my mother."

Phanuel nods slowly. I can tell something is coming, and for the first time, I question the man's kindness.

"That is exactly why," says the priest. "The council wishes for you to marry here, to marry a Jewish man, from the tribe of Levi."

My breath catches in my throat and the words "No," form on my lips, but I do not utter them, for Phanuel again cuts in.

"The council insists. They will grant the divorce if you agree to marry Eli. It is the only way to restore your honor and protect you from further...indiscretions," he says. His eyes bore into mine and I know, I know he is speaking not only of Ephraim, but of Simeon. How does he know?

"Eli is married," I say, choking on the words. "It is no longer acceptable to have a second wife here."

It is Phanuel's turn to look away. "In these specific circumstances, in your hour of need, the council has made an exception. He is the most fitting match, and you and your mother will be well taken care of."

My face burns. How could I accept? He will be another Ephraim, perhaps worse still. I can only imagine being defiled by him in the flesh, as he had done with his eyes so many times.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. "Father would not want it."

I do not say what Phanuel and I both know about Eli, that he is a lustful depraved man, whose appetite has been set on me for years.

"The law," I insist. "The law allows for divorce in my case, even without remarriage. If a man beats his wife, she can leave."

But Phaneul's jaw is set, and I sense a coolness coming over him.

"I am sorry Hanna, but without evidence, we cannot cut you loose from your marriage ties, especially under these suspicious circumstances. Your honor would be further sullied. You know that."

My chest burns and my eyes fill with tears. "Please Phanuel," I say. "You knew Father did not want me to marry Eli. Please do not do this to his memory."

But Phanuel just looks down at his scroll. "There is nothing more I can do for you," he says. And then he stares at me long and hard. "I suggest you take the offer. It may not come again."

"You defile my Father's memory," I say, an uncommon anger rising in my chest.

My face burns and I turn in anger, leaving the room without another word.