The Missing Madonna, Chapter 24 "Ruth's Reactions"

So she’s returned. I’m shaking at the very thought of it. I suppose I ought to be glad to see my old friend again, but I have very mixed emotions. Just when I thought I had at last come to terms with the loss of Ben, seeing her has brought everything back. I find that I’m trembling and feel very tearful. I shouldn’t let her return disturb me like this, after all its nearly three years since she disappeared without so much as a word to any of us. But I can’t help it.

I’m lying on my bed now. The girls are at last both asleep and Nathan is pottering around outside, I don’t know what he’s doing. Earlier this evening Mari came and spent nearly an hour with me as I was suckling Esther. She told me some extraordinary stories about their life in Egypt and everything she saw there. I just can’t imagine it. I’ve only been into Jerusalem once and that was awe inspiring, but some of the things Mari described, well I just couldn’t visualise it at all. But it wasn’t as though she was boasting. She seemed embarrassed, especially when she made me tell her about the death of the children and I swear she was crying then. And going back through it all again, that made me cry too.

When she saw how upset I was becoming, she dried her eyes and apologised and quickly started telling me about Alexandria, which she said was a vast city, even bigger than Jerusalem. I asked her about the hardships of the journey, I could never face such an unknown massive change. She told me that they were at first nervous that they might be followed by Herod’s men and then later how they were robbed and lived for a while as paupers almost on a rubbish tip. How awful that must have been. Yet she dismissed it as nothing compared with our ordeal. Well, I suppose she was right about that, though she must have wondered what was going to happen to her.

Despite all this, I still can’t get over the fact that she and Joseph never said anything to us. I thought I was her best friend. Surely she could at least have said something to me? She said she didn’t even believe that she was really in danger, although Joseph persuaded her to flee. Therefore, she said, it didn’t occur to her that her act of running away might have repercussions for all of us left behind. I don’t know whether to believe her or not. I never thought of Mari as a selfish girl and she says she wasn’t really frightened, so why couldn’t she have confided in me? It doesn’t feel right.

Nathan comes back in and I tell him of the conversation I’ve had with Mari. He’s tried to talk to Joseph but he says very little. Nathan says he thinks he feels guilty that they’ve let us down. Some of our other friends are angry and won’t talk to them at all. I’m not sure that’s very helpful. I wanted to know why they acted as they did.

Anyway, my thoughts are interrupted because Rachel has stirred and I go to her. I pick her up and sit her on my knee. She doesn’t cry but she’s disorientated and confused, rubbing her eyes. I don’t know what woke her up, I didn’t hear any sudden noises. I stare into her face. Her eyelids are already closing although she’s trying to force them open. I look at her. I do love her, I really do, although it was hard at first. When I’m feeling low she reminds me of the rape and that horrible day and I have to tell myself over and over again that it wasn’t her fault. Nathan’s been marvelous about it and treats her just the same as Esther even though he knows she cannot possibly be his. I was very fortunate there. Other women who were raped have been shamefully treated by their husbands and the target of tittle-tattle in the village. Nathan has never let on that he was not Rachel’s true father.

The next day Mari joins me as we make our way with the other women to the well. Rebecca and her brood come too and, hampered by all our children, we soon drop way behind Susannah and Miriam and the others. I can’t help but watch Joshua and think that my Ben ought to be there playing with him. The poor lad has no other boys of his age to play with, he has to join in the girls’ games. James follows his brother everywhere. I must say that Joshua seems very patient with him. As we walk I’m looking at Mari more closely. For a mother of three she still looks remarkably youthful. She was always a thin wiry one and bearing children doesn’t seem to have changed that, not like me. I can’t get my figure back since Esther’s birth, Nathan says I’m more comely now but I don’t think he means it. If Mari’s been through all the hardships she described to me last night, she should show the outward signs of stress and worry but her face is unlined, her eyes look as big and lively as they ever did and she hardly looks the eighteen year old that she must be. Perhaps all that walking has kept her thin, perhaps it was the strange diet they ate in Egypt.

“What’s Joseph going to do?” says Rebecca suddenly breaking my reverie. “Is he going to able to take up his former trade or will he seek work in Jerusalem? He’ll find it hard to get his old customers back – they had to find other carpenters and they’ve now taken all the local trade. Joseph’ll find it hard to break back in.”

“I don’t know,” Mari answers her. “He was going to talk to some of the farmers today and see what his chances are.”

I’m not really listening to them. I’m too intent on watching Joshua playing with the other children and I can’t help seeing Ben playing with him in my mind’s eye. I must stop these thoughts. It won’t do any good and will just upset me more. Rebecca’s girl is making an awful fuss of him and he loves it.

Later on in the afternoon, I see Mari slip past my house. She must be going to the well again. I noticed this morning that she only had a small water pot – it couldn’t possibly last her the day. I pick up Esther and Rachel trots after me. It’s a good opportunity to get Mari on her own and ask her more questions. She’s got James and Joshua with her. They can keep any eye on Rachel while we talk.

We draw our water. The children are playing happily, they won’t come to any harm. Esther and Salome are both asleep in our arms, so we settle ourselves beside the well parapet sweating from the unshaded sun. There is something I want to ask Mari, but I don’t know if I dare. It’s something she raised herself once but then seemed to think she’d said too much and wouldn’t be drawn further. I keep wondering if it’s anything to do with the reason for their flight. I won’t find out if I don’t ask but she might be sensitive about it. In the end I pluck up courage. There won’t be a better opportunity.

“Mari,” I say, “can I ask you something very personal?”

She looks at me cocking her head to one side just like she used to. Perhaps we can get back to our old relationship.

“Mari,” I say again, “you once told me that Joshua was a miraculous baby and that he was going to be our Messiah. Then you tried to tell me it was a joke. But I’ve always wondered. Was that why you thought you had to escape from Herod? Is there a proper reason why Herod really is afraid of you? Are you related in some way to the royal family?”

Mari is silent for a long time, then she sighs and begins to tell me things.

“Ruth,” she says,” you’ll laugh at this or find it absurd…”

“No I won’t. I’ll believe you this time.”

“Well, listen to what I have to say first and then judge. I shan’t blame you if you find it all impossible to believe. Sometimes it seems incredible to me, but I trust God and I have to keep on trusting him. You must have trusted him too to get you through the awful times you’ve had.”

Well, I’m not sure about that. I didn’t see much to trust him about when the soldiers killed our children. Anyway, I don’t say anything and let her carry on.

“It’s a long story. It started when I used to take my uncle’s sheep into the fields in Nazareth. I kept bumping into a stranger – well, he sort of kept appearing, it was most odd. Then he began to tell me some very disturbing things like I was going to have a baby. Well, I was only twelve and my mother and uncle hadn’t even thought of finding a husband for me, so I was assuming he just meant that I’d have a baby one day. There was nothing unusual about that. But then one day he said if I was willing it was going to happen straight away and that the baby would be a great man, the Messiah everyone keeps talking about. I was scared then, I thought he was going to attack me or something, but he was so kind and gentle that eventually I believed him and he even asked if I was prepared to trust him and God to bear a child without any man being involved. Well, that seemed impossible, but he seemed so sure of God’s plan for me that I said yes, without really thinking about the consequences. And then the world crashed about me.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I got pregnant just as the man said. And everyone accused me of adultery with him and no-one believed me. They even threatened to stone me to death.”

“How awful. Didn’t anyone believe you?”

“Only my sisters and then eventually I think my mother did, although I was never quite sure whether she really believed or just wanted to believe.”

“What happened then?”

My uncle Eli, he was one of the rabbis in the village, he had me tried and whipped and sent away. He told me to get rid of the baby. I had to go to my cousin near Jerusalem, a village the other side from here. And I found she was having a baby too despite the fact that she’d been barren for nearly thirty years and she said her son was a special child from God as well, so she believed me straight away.”

“Did you stay with her until the baby was born?”

“No, I went home. I thought God would protect me and my promised son if it was his plan. It nearly went wrong. I was on the point of being stoned after another trial in the synagogue when a miracle happened that convinced Joseph – in the meantime he’d been betrothed to me – and he convinced the rabbis that my baby really was the Messiah, and they released me and we came to Bethlehem and the rest you know.”

“And that was the end of it? Nothing else happened?”

“On the contrary. People kept coming up to us and telling us our child was special. The very night Joshua was born a crowd of dirty smelly shepherds burst into our room shouting that they’d been told to find our baby because he was going to be a great man. Then, a week later when we took him to the Temple to be dedicated, an old man said that he’d waited to see our child before he was ready to die and another old woman came and prophesied about him. It was extraordinary. Anyway, things settled down and returned to normal and I put it to the back of my mind. Joshua seemed a very ordinary baby just like other babies, nothing miraculous about him. He was bright, yes, but I couldn’t see anything about him that proved he was the future Messiah. I suppose I was just too busy to think too much about it. Then the sheiks came…”

“Who?”

“Sheiks. Rich men from somewhere to the East – Persia I think they said. They just arrived at our house one night, it was very late and they’d brought expensive gifts for us.

“You’re kidding me!

Mari explodes into giggles and we both laugh until we nearly cry - when Mari laughs like this I just get a fit of the giggles myself, I can’t help it. Then she pulls herself together and becomes serious again.

“They kept saying that Joshua was a prince and I said he wasn’t, they’d made a mistake, and then they said something which really scared Joseph. They said they’d gone to the palace assuming that that’s where a prince would be born.”

“How did they know a prince was born?”

“They said they could tell from the stars – Joseph said later they were astrologers. And Joseph said that he’d heard people say that Herod was very superstitious and had court astrologers who would test what these sheiks had said. Joseph implored the men not to go back to the king. Apparently they said that Herod had told them to return. I didn’t hear that but Joseph did and it put the wind up him. In the end I think he must have persuaded them, but we didn’t know it at the time. We invited them to stay the night with us, not that we had anywhere suitable for them to sleep, but they said they had a whole entourage of servants outside the town and several camels so it was quite impracticable. So they left that very night and Joseph thought, despite his request to them, that they were committed to going back to Herod. That’s why he persuaded me that we’d have to run for our lives. If Herod thought our baby was a threat to him, why, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Then she stops for she realises just what she’s said.

“I’m so sorry, Ruth. We never thought that Herod would go as far as killing all the children to be sure he got Joshua. It didn’t even occur to us. You must believe me, you really must. Of course, if we’d known that was what would happen we’d have warned everyone, but we could hardly believe ourselves that Joshua was not just called to be the future Messiah but was already being called a prince.”

I say nothing. I am just overwhelmed by her story. I don’t know whether to believe her or not. The whole saga seems ridiculous, but Mari is ordinarily such a likeable girl. Part of me says she is just too fanciful and it is her vivid imagination, but obviously the king had taken it seriously.

“Do you believe me?”

What do I say now? Do I? I pause for a long time.

“You don’t, do you Ruth?”

I protest, I say I’ll really have to think about it. It is just too much to take in at first hearing.

We get up slowly and return to our homes. We don’t say another word.

That night I toss and turn, wondering what to say to Nathan. The more I think about it, the more it seems as though she was telling the truth – at least I felt she believed it herself. But if I tell Nathan, I’m sure he will dismiss such ideas as nonsense and I don’t want him to think I am naïve and credulous. I don’t say anything to him now but I’m determined to watch Joshua carefully to see if I can discern anything so special about him.

So I watched him every day. I became obsessed with him. I encouraged Mari to leave him with me to play with my girls when she was feeding Salome or making extra trips to the well, although she soon bought some larger pots to avoid that additional chore. I tried everything I could think of to test him. Well, how do you test a five year old to see if he has princely blood? What was I looking for? Did he bleed if he cut himself? Did he utter words of wisdom beyond the wit of a young boy? Did he instill fear and awe from the other children? No, he seemed an ordinary likeable child, popular with the other children, sunny by nature. He was clever, very clever for his age, I thought, but not unnaturally so. He was the sort of boy that I’d have liked Ben to grow into, I thought darkly sometimes upsetting myself again.

So I continued to watch. And I continued to find no proof one way or the other. He did nothing to show he couldn’t be such a leader, but at the same time he did nothing to prove he was. I never saw him do anything really mean or spiteful. He could be naughty like all small boys, getting dirty and into mischief and running away when his mother wanted him in to wash or have his meal or go to bed. He was a good boy, full of life and fun and I realised that I was jealous of him and Mari. It was unfair. Why did my son have to die so that Joshua could live? Perhaps that’s unfair but that’s how my twisted mind thought of it.