Read Online Journey to the Well: A Novel by Diana Wallis Taylor - Free Book Online
Authors: Diana Wallis Taylor
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heated the oven for baking. Athaliah was at the marketplace to buy vegetables. It was pleasant to enjoy the peace of the morning since she didn’t have to face Zibeon until late afternoon when he closed the shop. She moved her shoulders to stretch and put a hand in the small of her back. The child within her grew large as she neared her sixth month. Her belly was stretching, and as women do, she moved her hand back and forth across the taut skin. As the babe moved to her touch, she smiled.
In spite of her own barrenness, Hannah was happy for her.
“God smiles upon you, Marah. He has given you a child quickly to please your husband and make your way easier.”
Marah sighed. At least the pain of that first week with Zibeon was behind her, and being practical in nature, she had accepted her lot in life. Sometimes, though, when she thought of that first night with Zibeon, she shuddered. The smell of the wine, his eager hands, and the pain within her that rolled and ebbed, the cries in the darkness that seemed to come from beyond herself. Mercifully she had fainted. She had awakened in the wee hours of the morning, her mouth dry. Zibeon was asleep beside her, snoring noisily. Slowly, biting her lip at the jabs of pain, she had made her way to the corner of the room where a large jar of water had been placed. She drank greedily from the dipper, looking back toward Zibeon lest she make a noise that would awaken him. In the dimness of the room, she glanced down and saw shadows on her shift. As she touched one, she stifled a cry. It was dried blood. She dipped water into a small clay basin and washed herself as well as she could. Standing quietly in the darkness, she bowed her head. She was a wife now and there were duties she must bear. No one had told her what to expect. Reba would not, and Hannah must have thought Reba had borne the task, for she had not brought up the subject. Was it this way with all women, Marah wondered. Had it been this way for her own mother? Suddenly, without warning, a longing for her mother swept over her. Tears stung her eyes, but she straightened herself, willing the tears back to the depths from which they came. Her mother was gone and she herself was no longer a child. She was now Zibeon’s wife and she must work hard to please him. Quietly she crept back to the bed and lay down beside Zibeon. She was so weary. Zibeon still slept soundly, and in spite of her fear, she fell asleep again.
When Marah awoke, it was with a start. Zibeon was gone. Why had he not awakened her? Her mother-in-law must think her a lazy wife not to be up before her husband and about her tasks. Feeling stronger, she got up, and looked toward the water jar. The basin of water in which she had washed herself had been emptied. For a moment she felt a rush of gratefulness toward Athaliah. Perhaps she was not all she seemed. Marah washed her face quickly in fresh water and dropped a clean garment over her head, winding the woven belt around her waist.
As Marah entered the main room of the house, she found Athaliah busily sweeping.
“Mother-in-law, forgive me. I did not mean to oversleep. What can I do to help?”
The old woman looked at her a moment with her bright eyes. “Zibeon has had his breakfast and gone to the shop. You will do the washing and see that the water jars are kept full. I will see what other tasks you are capable of. I trust Reba trained you well in the matters of a household.”
“Yes,” Marah answered quietly. What good would it do to tell Athaliah that she had been doing most of the tasks of their household since she was ten.
The day passed quickly with Athaliah assigning many jobs. She followed Marah around and watched everything she did.
“Have you checked each garment carefully that it is clean?” Athaliah asked needlessly. “You must hang the garments so . . .”
Each task was carefully scrutinized. It would be hard to please Athaliah. Marah bore the comments in silence. Perhaps it was
In spite of her own barrenness, Hannah was happy for her.
“God smiles upon you, Marah. He has given you a child quickly to please your husband and make your way easier.”
Marah sighed. At least the pain of that first week with Zibeon was behind her, and being practical in nature, she had accepted her lot in life. Sometimes, though, when she thought of that first night with Zibeon, she shuddered. The smell of the wine, his eager hands, and the pain within her that rolled and ebbed, the cries in the darkness that seemed to come from beyond herself. Mercifully she had fainted. She had awakened in the wee hours of the morning, her mouth dry. Zibeon was asleep beside her, snoring noisily. Slowly, biting her lip at the jabs of pain, she had made her way to the corner of the room where a large jar of water had been placed. She drank greedily from the dipper, looking back toward Zibeon lest she make a noise that would awaken him. In the dimness of the room, she glanced down and saw shadows on her shift. As she touched one, she stifled a cry. It was dried blood. She dipped water into a small clay basin and washed herself as well as she could. Standing quietly in the darkness, she bowed her head. She was a wife now and there were duties she must bear. No one had told her what to expect. Reba would not, and Hannah must have thought Reba had borne the task, for she had not brought up the subject. Was it this way with all women, Marah wondered. Had it been this way for her own mother? Suddenly, without warning, a longing for her mother swept over her. Tears stung her eyes, but she straightened herself, willing the tears back to the depths from which they came. Her mother was gone and she herself was no longer a child. She was now Zibeon’s wife and she must work hard to please him. Quietly she crept back to the bed and lay down beside Zibeon. She was so weary. Zibeon still slept soundly, and in spite of her fear, she fell asleep again.
When Marah awoke, it was with a start. Zibeon was gone. Why had he not awakened her? Her mother-in-law must think her a lazy wife not to be up before her husband and about her tasks. Feeling stronger, she got up, and looked toward the water jar. The basin of water in which she had washed herself had been emptied. For a moment she felt a rush of gratefulness toward Athaliah. Perhaps she was not all she seemed. Marah washed her face quickly in fresh water and dropped a clean garment over her head, winding the woven belt around her waist.
As Marah entered the main room of the house, she found Athaliah busily sweeping.
“Mother-in-law, forgive me. I did not mean to oversleep. What can I do to help?”
The old woman looked at her a moment with her bright eyes. “Zibeon has had his breakfast and gone to the shop. You will do the washing and see that the water jars are kept full. I will see what other tasks you are capable of. I trust Reba trained you well in the matters of a household.”
“Yes,” Marah answered quietly. What good would it do to tell Athaliah that she had been doing most of the tasks of their household since she was ten.
The day passed quickly with Athaliah assigning many jobs. She followed Marah around and watched everything she did.
“Have you checked each garment carefully that it is clean?” Athaliah asked needlessly. “You must hang the garments so . . .”
Each task was carefully scrutinized. It would be hard to please Athaliah. Marah bore the comments in silence. Perhaps it was
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