The Missing Madonna, Chapter 23/2 "Home Truths"

Ruth has put Joshua down and beckons me to follow.

“If you really know nothing, Mari, I’ll tell you later. It’s a long story. Come and get the water. Then come to my house afterwards and I’ll tell you what has happened. But don’t be surprised if some women are suspicious or want nothing to do with you. For three years now many have blamed you for their misfortunes. It’ll take time for feelings to mend.”

So I follow in silence. I can tell everyone is watching Joshua closely. The boy seems oblivious of the attention focused on him and trails after us cheerfully, being diverted whenever some point of interest en route – a stray chicken or lizard or an interesting rock – comes into his line of vision. We arrive at the well and a group of women, including Susannah and Miriam, Barthaeus’ wife, stand in a huddle whispering to each other while one of their number draws water. I can’t help but feel that they are excluding me deliberately.

Ruth stays with me and my friend Rebecca joins us along with a girl who must be her daughter Miriam and a couple of young lads. Miriam is carrying a bundle and I see suddenly through my confusion that it is a tiny baby. When the girl sees me staring, she comes over and pulls her shawl back and I can see that the child is older, perhaps six months.

Miriam looks up at me and says succinctly, “It’s a girl.”

Then Joshua wants a look and the girl bends down and shows the child to him. Joshua laughs and tries to make faces to the child who responds at once, wide eyed, to Joshua’s attempts at communication. Despite the apparent embarrassment over Joshua’s presence emphasizing his rude survival, his interest and laughter make it impossible for the women and other children to ignore him and I let him drift away to play with a few who are a little older than him.

Ruth and Rebecca do not quiz me any more and we wait our turn patiently. When most of the women have drawn, they set off back to the village without waiting for us. Ruth and Rebecca stay with me. Rebecca begins to say something on our walk back, but it is difficult with the noise and distraction of the children and she gives up. As we reach Ruth’s house, she just says,

“Come and see me later when you can. I’ll tell you everything that’s happened. Then you’ll understand.”

I busy myself with James and Salome who are now both awake and seeking my attention. Joseph has managed to borrow a spade and I can hear him shoveling in our yard, disturbing our donkey, which is braying loudly. My mind is still in a whirl from the bare news that has been imparted to me and I am brimming to say something when Joseph returns into the room a few minutes later. I don’t get a chance. Joseph looks red in the face and flustered.

“I can’t find any of the gifts I buried. I know where I put them, I’m sure of it. But everything’s gone. I can’t believe our neighbours would stoop to stealing from us. Perhaps it was just too much of a temptation. The gold would have been too obviously of significant value. I’m not sure if anyone here would have known what the other gifts were or even hazarded a guess at their worth. It’s really disappointing. I had thought that we could sell the objects for a sizable sum and give Joshua a first class education with scholars in Jerusalem, to fit him appropriately for his destiny.”

I am not really listening to him. Who worries about such trifles? After what had been hinted at, I don’t want the further guilt of riches received from the very people who may unwittingly have been the cause of the problems that seem to have swamped the village women. I stop him from carrying on further about the loss.

“Joseph, it’s awful. Ruth’s Ben is dead and many other children. Ruth says that Herod’s soldiers killed them. They seem to think it was our fault. I can’t look them in the face.”

Joseph stops in mid stride and stares at me.

“Why, Mari? How could they blame us? How is it our fault? What actually happened? Tell me properly.”

“I can’t. I’ve only had hints that something terrible happened. I know Ruth’s Ben was murdered and so were some other children, but I don’t know how or when. Ruth said she’d tell me the full story sometime, but she seemed too upset to say more now. When she saw Joshua she burst into tears.”

Later that day Rebecca calls round and tells us everything. Miriam comes with her and takes Joshua and James to play so Rebecca just has her little one – Sarah she calls her – and I nurse Salome while she tells me what had happened. Joseph comes in from the yard having abandoned his search for the gifts brought by the sheiks and swills the mud from his hands and listens.

We sit there speechless as she describes the action of Herod’s soldiers and tells of the rumours that the king had got it into his head that there was a potential claimant to the throne living in Bethlehem, a young child. Apparently the priests had foolishly drawn his attention to certain scripture prophesies and the king, who’d grown superstitious in his illness, believed them and would not rest until his soldiers had eliminated any possibility that the rumour might be true. She doesn’t mention that the sheiks had visited the king first and probably sowed the idea in his head and therefore she is not inclined to believe that we had been even an indirect cause, but she tells us that some of the villagers had guessed that Joshua had been the subject of the prophecies and blamed us for the calamity which overtook them.

“I don’t believe a word of it, of course, it’s foolish superstitious nonsense and you mustn’t take what some of them are saying about you to heart. Some idiots tried to find out why we’d suffered so and I think the soldier they asked just told them some cock and bull story about a rival king just to get them to shut up and go away. Anyway, why did you go away? You obviously left in a hurry – some of your customers, Joseph, were very upset with you. I told them it must have been an emergency, probably someone in your family seriously ill. But you mentioned Egypt, Mari, I didn’t know you had relatives there.”

“We don’t,” I say, “it was an emergency but not the one you guessed. Perhaps the other women were right.”

From the corner of my eye I see Joseph making frantic signs at me which I interprete as a sign that he wants me to reveal nothing more, but how can I stop now? Rebecca’s eyebrows are raised and she is waiting for me to continue.

“We had visitors the night before we left. They came because they’d dreamed that they’d find Herod’s successor here in Bethlehem and for some unknown reason they seemed convinced it was Joshua. They’d apparently told Herod they’d look for him and as soon as we knew that, we thought we might be in danger and decided that we couldn’t risk staying where Herod’s guard could find us. That’s why we went to Egypt.”

“It never occurred to us that Herod would be so mad that he’d kill so many children just to stop one. I persuaded Mari that we should move just in case Herod was jealous and I was really scared that we could be arrested at any time and tortured, that was why we left in such a hurry.”

“So it was not a fanciful tale after all? There is some substance to this story? I thought you were humble folk like us. If you have royal blood in you, why did you live among us? Did you not think that you were endangering all of us by just being here?”

“We’re not related to Herod or any other possible line that might conceivably have a claim. The priests and Herod must be wrong. It is tragic but you can’t hold Mari and me responsible for it, surely?”

I am unhappy that Joseph dismisses our calling so lightly even if it means that it might increase the antagonism I'm feeling.

“Joshua is special,“ I say. “we’ve had lots of signs. Our rabbis in Nazareth where I come from told us so. I’ve always known and risked many people’s wrath because I insisted on telling them. They called me a blasphemer and threatened to kill me once before. When our visitors came late at night and told us that Joshua was a future king, we became frightened and that’s why we fled. I thought we were in danger, not you!”

“What strangers came to you? Who were they? Did you believe them?”

Joseph says nothing and looks at me. He knows I’m going to tell her everything and he’s given up trying to stop me. He’ll shake his head and later complain that I’m foolhardy, then he’ll gladly put up with the extra trouble I’ve caused him. He’s very good with me really.

So I tell her. She listens with an ever increasing look of incredulity. She’s so sensible is our Rebecca, not in any way a mystic. This is way beyond her ken, but she won’t ridicule me because she is my friend. However, when I finish, she does warn me.

“Mari,” she says, “I don’t know what to say. I do know this. If you repeat that tale to others, they will make fun of you. Some will be hostile, especially those whose children were murdered. I was lucky. My two boys were just too old to be victims of the massacre.”

“Where did it happen? How many children did they kill?” Joseph asks his question very quietly.

“Twenty seven,” answers Rebecca, “every boy from the cradle to two years of age. Your friend Ruth lost her Benjamin. She was inconsolable for months. She was raped by one of the soldiers as well, I’m sure, although she won’t admit it. She’s only recently settled down. Your return is in danger of stirring everything up again, especially when she sees Joshua.”

“What can we do now? How can we help her?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps she will take to Joshua, feel somehow that he will remind her of Ben, even if it upsets her. Or she might resent the child. You’ll have to be very sensitive and play it by ear.”

We are both silent.

“Do you want to see where it happened? There will be no-one about now, everyone’s cooking the evening meal.”

So Rebecca leads us to the plot of scrubland near the rubbish tip and we stand silent by the place she had described.

“They were all thrown into a pit the soldiers had dug right there. When they’d gone, we uncovered their bodies and washed and cleaned them and dressed them properly for the soldiers had ripped off their clothing in their haste to establish which were the males. We buried them together. It somehow seemed right.”

We stand there with Rebecca a long time. I imagine Joshua lying there broken and blooded and begin to weep. They let me cry for a while and then Joseph puts his arm around my shoulders.

“Mari, God looked after us and spared Joshua. His destiny is in God’s hands. He will protect him and us.”

“But he didn’t protect all those other children, did he?” And I begin to cry again. My mind says, ‘Why God, why do so many have to suffer so? Is it really your will? I can’t believe that’. And I stay there weeping for a long time staring at the abyss where those tiny bodies are buried. Then, suddenly, I realise I am alone. Rebecca and Joseph have quietly withdrawn from my grief. And my weeping stops. I get angry with God.