Signs and Wonders (14 page)

“And perhaps your wits are poisoned by your spite,” said Judah. “I am no friend of Joseph. But I have always known there will be those who displease me in life. I cannot draw my sword upon them all.”

“Who speaks of swords?” said Simeon. And his words were no more than a whisper.

“Your fingers fidgeting at your hilt are more eloquent than words, O brother.”

Levi said: “He gets under my skin, the father’s pet. He festers in my soul, and there is no balm. It is a deep abscess, and only the blade can heal it.”

“Well spoken, brother of my heart!” cried Simeon. “He threatens us all, the meek one. His dreams are coming true even as he tells them. When he inherits, he will be a man of great wealth. And we, we shall have only a few paltry flocks. We shall be poor shepherds always on the move, searching out grassy lands for our flocks to graze on, at the mercy of wolf, bandit, weather. And if a famine falls on the land, then we shall have to go to him, to Joseph, the inheritor, the young prince, and beg him for bread—”

“And have to sell ourselves, perhaps,” said Levi, “and work as bondsmen to get bread for ourselves and our children. If he inherits.”

“He will surely inherit,” said Gad.

“If he lives …” said Simeon.

Naphtali spoke: “He comes now! I see him far off. I see the colors of his coat.”

“Behold, the dreamer comes!” cried Asher.

“He comes,” said Levi. “Will he go again? Shall we permit it?”

Simeon stood tall and raised his staff. “I say he shall not! What say you, my brothers? Are we of one mind? We must stand together before our father in this. I shall perform the execution if you wish, but I need your agreement.”

They raised their voices in a wild yell of approval, all but Reuben, who was trying to think of a way to prevent an actual murder. Nor did Judah agree. He, also, wished to save Joseph’s life, but he bided his time, knowing he could persuade his brothers only by misdirection.

“So be it, brothers,” said Simeon. “You have spoken your wish. You shall be the hand, and I will be the sword.”

Zebulun said: “I have always thought that coat needed one more color, the color of blood.”

Then many spoke at once, their words crossing and mixing: “When he is dead we shall cast him in a pit—”

“Dip his coat in his own blood and return to our father, saying that his lamb was torn by a wolf, or some other evil beast—”

“And we shall see what happens to dreams. What happens to dreams after death, brothers?”

“We shall see.”

Joseph suspected nothing, riding on his donkey to Dothan. His father had given him a rare saddle donkey for his own, the best of the string. She was mist-gray, very alert, and sweet-tempered, with a gait so even you could fall asleep riding her. Now Joseph, bundled up in his coat of many colors against the harsh wind, jogging along to meet his brothers, was half asleep as he rode, and pleasant scenes drifted through his head. He would take his place among his brothers as a man among men. He would work hard tending the sheep, and drive his flock to where the grass grew thickest and water flowed. He would whistle clear signals to the dogs and be vigilant against wolves. And his brothers would observe him, and look at one another and smile grudgingly as if to say, “He is a good lad, after all. He has not been spoiled by our father’s favor. He is our brother, one of ourselves.”

Joseph was passing among speckled sheep now and knew that his brothers must be near. Beyond the milling sheep on a low hill, he glimpsed tall, cloaked figures holding staffs. Now the sun swam out from behind the clouds. He was riding west and the sun was kneeling low over the western rim of the sky, glaring straight into his eyes, and he saw nothing but blood-red light.

So he did not see Simeon and Levi walking out to meet him. And did not know that he was among others, until his donkey was pulled back on her haunches, braying in surprise, and an iron hand grasped his arm, hurling him out of the saddle with great violence. His head hit the ground, and a darkness passed over him. But he struggled to his feet, believing he had been attacked by bandits, and he drew a great breath so that he might shout to his brothers, who were on the hill. The dust cleared and he saw that he stood within a circle of men, tall, cloaked men with bristling beards and stony eyes, and he knew pure terror as he saw that the strangers were his brothers.

A voice said: “You won’t need this now.” And a pair of hands tore his coat from his body.

“Brothers,” he cried, “it is I, Joseph. I have come to be with you.”

“You are not our brother,” said a voice. “You are a thief come to steal what is ours. But we have caught you, thief, and you shall be punished.”

“No!” he shrieked. “No! No! Don’t kill me!”

His cries were choked, as Simeon grasped him by the throat and forced him to his knees.

Joseph saw a blade flashing above him. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, whispering, “Help me, O Lord,” and waited for the blade to fall. It did not fall. “He torments me by making me wait for my death stroke,” said Joseph to himself. “But he shall not hear me plead again.” Then he heard Levi’s voice.

“You shall not take the blood guilt upon yourself, Simeon. Let us cast lots.” Joseph opened his eyes and saw Levi standing above him, holding Simeon’s sword arm, and Levi’s own sword was drawn.

“If we cast lots,” said Dan, “whoever kills him will take the blood guilt. But we must share that guilt, all of us. We must each take a stave and beat him to death. We must form a circle and all strike at the same time, and keep striking until he is dead, and no one will know who struck the fatal blow.”

“The Lord will know,” said Reuben. “He can unravel your feeble tricks, Dan. The only way to escape guilt is for no fatal blow to be struck. Let us throw him into a pit and leave him there. He will have no food, no water, and must surely perish. Or perchance a lion will come this way and feast himself, and the tale we tell our father will have come true.”

“He may escape,” said Simeon. “He has a lucky look about him.”

“Escape?” said Reuben. “Out of a pit with his arms and legs bound fast? How?”

“I shall find the pit,” said Levi, “and make sure it is deep.”

“And I shall bind him,” said Simeon. “And make sure the bonds are fast.”

Simeon bound the lad, pulling the thongs so tight they cut into his flesh. Joseph moaned with pain, and Simeon struck him brutally across the face; his nose bled, and his mouth.

“Not a sound, little pet!” cried Simeon. “Or I’ll break every bone in that pretty face.”

Levi led them to the pit he had found, a dry waterhole, and they threw Joseph in. It was almost dark now, and they departed. And Reuben was content because he meant to return alone and free the lad. He felt something touch his shoulder and whirled about. It was Judah.

“No,” whispered Judah. “They will be watching you. There is only one way. After we have eaten and all their hungers have been dulled, I shall make a suggestion. Drop your own plan and support mine. It is the only way we can prevent murder.”

They left Joseph in the pit and gathered their flocks and moved away. They slaughtered a lamb for their meal and ate and drank. Now Judah rose to his feet and said: “Hear me, I pray. We have bound our brother hand and foot and thrown him into a pit, where he must die. That death will stain us with blood guilt as surely as if we had cut him to pieces with our swords or broken his body with our staves. And we shall all share equally in this guilt—which will not lessen, being divided by ten, but will be multiplied greatly, because we are many against one, because we are grown men against a boy, and because, worst of all, the blood that will cry out for vengeance is a brother’s blood. Yes, brethren, each of us will stand before God’s awful eye. He will brand the mark of Cain on our foreheads. And all men’s hands will be turned against us. No tree will offer its shade, nor will night bring repose.”

“Speak your whole meaning,” growled Simeon. “Shall we pull him out of the pit and embrace him and feed him and send him back to our father to inherit everything and leave us nothing? Is that your purpose? If so, I will go to the pit alone, leaving you all here proclaiming your innocence. Down into the pit I will go, and cut his throat like a sheep and take the guilt on myself.”

“I want no part of such innocence!” cried Levi. “Where you go, I go. Where you strike, I strike!”

“I am not proposing that we release him,” said Judah. “I am proposing that we do not murder him.”

“If he lives, he inherits,” said Zebulun.

“Not so,” said Judah. “Suppose he vanishes and is never seen again?”

“It is death you describe,” said Dan.

“No,” said Judah. “There is another way. Let him stay in the pit overnight. He will not perish in one night, and perchance his dreams will be humbled. In the morning we shall draw him forth and sell him to one of the merchant bands that cross this way. Midianite caravans go down into Egypt to buy and sell, and slaves fetch large prices. We will sell him to the Midianites for silver. They will take him down into Egypt and resell him. And from the slave pens of the Pharaoh there is no return.”

“I say yes!” shouted Reuben. He leaped to his feet and pulled out his sword. “And I back my opinion with my blade. It’s Judah’s way or fight!”

“Fight!” said Simeon, smiling. “Personally, I never avoid a fight. What say you, Levi?”

“No!” Levi’s voice rang clear. He sprang to Simeon’s side and grasped his brother’s wrist. “For once I refuse to go your way, Simeon. We do not fight Reuben. We do not kill two brothers.”

“Three,” said Judah, drawing his sword. “I am not quick to unsheathe my blade, as you know, but I will stand with Reuben if it comes to the folly of fighting.”

“They are right,” said Dan. “Put up your sword, Simeon, and think of this. That arrogant princeling will be punished more sorely by long servitude than by dying young. And he will die finally under the taskmaster’s lash. And we shall incur no blood guilt.”

“So be it,” said Simeon. “But I insist he be sold tomorrow. I want to see money pass. I want to see him wear the copper collar and be driven off with the slave string.”

The wind blew. It was striped with cold airs now and freighted with sand. The brothers drew up their robes, muffling eyes and mouths, and sank to sleep where they stood. The flocks moved restlessly. Dogs barked, circling. A camel bawled, a donkey brayed. Simeon uttered a strangled cry in his sleep. But they all slept.

Joseph did not sleep. He lay like a heap of rags at the bottom of the pit. The thongs cut into his flesh, and his arms and legs were numb. And he was very cold. He realized how long it was since he had been out in the cold without his beautiful fleecy coat. He drove the thought of the coat out of his mind and threshed about, trying to make himself warm. His face was swollen from Simeon’s blows and very painful.

Why am I trying to keep alive? he said to himself. I must surely die here; the sooner I do, the less I shall suffer. He lay still, trying to make his mind go blank, trying to summon the final darkness. But he was looking straight up. A star glittered coldly in the black sky and seemed to shine straight into the pit. It cast a silvery-blue light, giving the rocks hard-edged shadows. And Joseph, for all his pain, felt himself very much alive, perhaps more alive than he had ever felt before. And he knew that he was not capable of such surrender, but that he was doomed to live until life was taken from him. Is it the peril? he said to himself. Is this why that beast Simeon likes to fight? Not only to kill but to challenge death, to find this excitement?

The desire to live surged up in him, and he fought his bonds. They cut into him, and he knew how helpless he was. He wept from pain and rage. Then a thought came. I dreamed this once.… This is not unfamiliar, this pit, these bonds. I must have dreamed the very thing and forgot the dream because it was too terrible to remember. But why, why must they hate me so? Because they think I have injured them, stolen their father’s love? I did not steal his love; it was given. He is my father, also, my father more, for he loves me more. And who knows the ways of love? There are no reasons; it makes its own reasons. But I am innocent of theft. Nevertheless, I am accused of theft, condemned of theft, and sentenced to death. And so I must die because of my father’s love. How can this be? Is not love a good thing? It must be a good thing, or life itself would be without sense or form or meaning. Can evil come of good? Assuredly. The old tales tell us that God Himself repented of His handiwork and sent a flood, and then repented of the flood. If evil can come of good, then good can come of evil.… Is that a lion growling, or is it the wind? Be merciful, God.…

Suddenly Joseph fell asleep and slept without dreaming.

Morning light struck him. He opened his eyes to see Judah sliding down a rope. He tried to speak to his brother, but his tongue was too swollen. He groaned. Judah gave him water to drink but did not look at Joseph or speak to him. Judah tied the rope about him and shouted. Joseph felt himself being pulled up. Sunlight hit his eyes like a blow. He shut them. Now, indeed, he was able to sink into a darkness. And he did not try to come out of his swoon. Many times he had dreamed an ugly dream and had escaped the final terror by knowing he would awake. But now he did not wish to awaken, because he knew this was not a dream. Then unfamiliar voices beat about him and the familiar ones went away.

He felt himself being handled, not cruelly, but with skillful force, as a donkey is handled. He felt a copper collar being locked onto his neck. He felt himself goaded into a line with other bodies. And the docility of these shuffling bodies entered him; he felt himself changing, becoming cattle. It was the utmost anguish he had ever known. Now he opened his eyes, but saw nothing because he was blinded by tears.

And it was in this way that Judah and Simeon saw the last of their brother, his head bent and weeping, shuffling along in a file of slaves. And then the caravan disappeared in its own dust as it headed south.

Judah and Simeon rejoined their brothers and shared out the silver that was the price paid for Joseph. Twenty pieces of silver. Thirty pieces was the price for a grown man, twenty pieces for a boy.