Ruth
Carrying several pieces of rope, Ruth followed her brother down the rutted path to the valley. There was no wind. The air was muggy. The sun was still low in the sky, but already it was hot.
"Caleb asked me for your hand again yesterday," Yeshua said. A carefully sheathed knife swung from his waist. He hated to use it, but the alternative was worse.
"Did you remind him he has two hands of his own, and I need mine for myself?"
"No, but I'll remember that next time," Yeshua said, with a chuckle. "I told him the choice is yours, not Mother's, not Father's and especially not mine."
"What did he say to that?"
"He scoffed at me. He told me a woman has no right to choose, that these things are arranged, that it is a man's world, that it will always be. He said that by your age most girls are married and already have at least one baby. He seemed to be scolding me for not seeing what a fine catch he is."
"And?"
"That's it. Generally, regardless who's asking about you, I just smile."
"Thanks for sticking up for me."
"It's my privilege."
After hiking for half an hour they reached a pond fed by an underground spring. Surrounding it was a meadow of lush vegetation. In the West thunderheads billowed high in the morning blue sky, leaving spots of sunlight sparkling across the water. Birds twittered in leaf-laden trees along the edge.
Careful not to break any of the plants along bank, Yeshua stepped out into the pond. Ruth tucked the lower edge of her tunic into her belt and joined him in knee-deep water.
"You do ask them, don't you?" he said.
"Always."
He stopped next to a clump of papyrus nearly twenty feet tall and considered the stocks. It was a good crop, more abundant than usual with many healthy looking plants.
"I thank each one for its life, for its contribution," Ruth said, "and then I wait, so I'll know which ones are ready, like you taught me."
"It's important, Sis, with everything."
"I know," she said. "It's about respect."
There was a moment of oneness, of quiet, of connecting with All-That-Is. Moments of serenity gave way to moments of decision.
Yeshua reached into the water. One at a time he sliced the stocks off at the base and handed them to Ruth.
She studied him as he cut each plant. Each touch was a caress, a blessing. The angle of the sunlight was just right for her to realize that his eyes exactly matched his dark auburn hair. There was warmth, compassion in those eyes, qualities not so apparent in the eyes of her other brothers. She loved to watch him, to see if she could guess what he was thinking. Sometimes it made her want to cry. He was so beautiful, so good. She loved him.
"Do you see how the women in the village look at you?" Yeshua asked.
At sixteen, she was a maiden of undeniable beauty.
"Oh yes. They make fun of Mary Martha and me when we go to the well."
"I've never seen that. They look after you, like they'd like to be you."
"It's you they're interested in."
"That's not the kind of look I'm talking about."
"I've tried to make friends."
"I think they're jealous. The problem is, they feel stuck, Ruth. It's been going on for thousands of years," he said, pausing to push strands of hair from his face. "It's time for us to fix that. We will make a difference, you and I. And you, little sister, it's up to you to write it down."
"I don't see how that'll help. Nobody will pay attention to me. The women don't even know how to read."
"You can teach them. You're the family scholar. Someday they will honor your words. That's why Brother Samuel has been teaching you. I'm not sure about the others, but I am sure about you."
"If they don't like me, how can I get close enough to teach them anything?" Ruth said, fanning herself. She felt muggy hot, in spite of the fact that she was standing in water. She wished she didn't have to wear so many clothes. It was ridiculous.
"A way will show up, if you concentrate on it long enough."
"It feels like we're in for a storm."
"Yes, it does." Yeshua cut another stock and another. "We best do as much as we can before it starts."
"Do you have any idea what kind of difference we're going to make?"
"We were born to be catalysts," he said.
"I understand how that could be true for you, but me? I'm a woman in a society that doesn't like women."
By now she had an armful of stocks. She secured them with a rope, so they would be easier to handle.
"That's why this is so important. There are so many things you can do."
"Like what? First, they have to give me a chance."
"You have to make your own chance, Sis."
"How?"
"A way will come. Those who seek long enough, diligently enough are never disap..."
Thunder boomed in the distance.
"It's time to get out of here," Yeshua said. "I saw a guy hit by lightening once when he was standing in water. He was never the same after that."
The two pushed toward shore.
"Yeshua. Ruth."
They peered around a dense cluster of reeds.
"Where are you?" It was a young masculine voice, flavored with a dialect spoken in the hills.
"John?" Yeshua yelled. "We're over here."
A man with a whiskered face approached water's edge. Shading his eyes he gazed toward them.
Thunder spoke again, louder, closer.
"There's going to be one heck of a storm. I can taste it," John said. "Your mother insisted I bring you lunch."
The siblings waded to shore and deposited the stocks. Ruth was about to perch on a clump of dead grass when her cousin caught her in a hug.
"Ruthie, you became a woman when I wasn't looking," John said, good-naturedly. He wore a merry, intense expression. Tousled brown curls streaked with blond from hours in the sun whisked his shoulders. His eyes were brown, though at times they mirrored the color of the sky.
Ruth was pleased with herself. She was no longer petite like her mother. In the last year she had inherited a woman's version of her father's height, a trait of those emigrated from the north. She was proud to have his eyes, loving their iridescent shade of green. She had her grandfather's thick, glossy black hair, a grandfather she did not remember. Most of the time it hung to her waist in a single braid.
"What's with the goatskin gladiator outfit?" Yeshua said, sitting on a mound of dirt across from his sister and cousin. "Your mother dressed you better than that."
"Ah, I see you're jealous," John said, grinning. "You ought to try it. It's a lot less of a nuisance than all those skirts."
"I don't want to smell like a goat," Yeshua said.
"Smell like a goat, baaaah," John said, chuckling. He handed them smoked mutton and bread.
"Thank you," Ruth said, "and thanks for not expecting me to wait on you."
He was so manly, his skin darkened by the sun, and just a little older than Yeshua. He had always teased her, played tricks on her like her brothers did. The way he was looking at her now was different. It made her sparkle inside.
"What brought that up?" John said. "If you were my servant, you'd be a lot less interesting."
"I've been thinking about the women in Nazareth and what's expected of them," Ruth said. "Father says all forms of servitude are an abomination to the soul. I'm just grateful it's not expected of me."
"That's what I was talking about, one of the reasons they envy you," Yeshua said, "and the rest of the women in our community."
"Have you ever wondered why most Essenes are bachelors and live in the desert away from everybody?" Ruth asked. "Did Father ever tell you why our sect practices marriage and the others don't?"
"Not really," Yeshua said. "It never came up. But I'd say the brothers probably stay away from women to avoid the complications of a family."
"What about you, John?" she ask
ed. "What do you know about this?"
"Not much."
"Most women just tend the family," Ruth said. "But the women in our group have salable skills, like healing, weaving, making pottery and such."
"You're skilled in all those areas, Ruth," John said.
"All the women I've met do some of it," Ruth said.
"Yes, but take your older sister, Elizabeth," John said. "Her only special talent is with children. They love her because she's so playful."
"That's true," Ruth said.
At twenty Elizabeth already had four kids of her own and sometimes hired out as a wet nurse.
"Your little sister is a seamstress, and that's about it," John said. He had never liked the girl.
"Mary Martha's only thirteen," Ruth said. "Besides, Mother and Father taught each of us to take care of ourselves. Elizabeth is also a potter, you know."
"After a fashion," John said. "Mostly she just likes men."
"A little too much," Yeshua said with a laugh. "That's why Mother and Father married her off so young."
"Yeah, okay, but even David's, James' and Jacob's wives were taught salable skills once they became part of the family," Ruth said. "Father insisted."
"I can still hear him saying it," Yeshua said. "'To be otherwise could mean starvation when mean times come around again, which they always do.'"
"Okay, granted, all of the women in your family can provide for themselves. But you, Ruth, excel at a number of things," John said.
"A lot of things appeal to me," she said.
"It makes you much more interesting than the other women I've met," John said. "Much more. Don't you agree, Yeshua?"
"Yep," Yeshua said, his face twinkling.
Uncomfortably warm, John fanned the leather fabric away from his skin.
"I'd be glad to weave you some sturdy cloth," Ruth said. "I could talk Mary Martha into making it into a garment like the one you're wearing. It'd be a lot cooler this time of year."
"I'd be honored, as long as it's not wool. That stuff makes me itch," John said. "You're getting quite a reputation, you know. Last week when I was at the market in Capernaum, a seller called out, 'I have cloth by young Ruth from Nazareth.' Everyone thronged to the booth and made over the bolt. It fetched a good price."
"Really?" Pleased, Ruth gave him the smile reserved for special people. It brought a glow to his face.
"Yes," John said. "You could easily charge more."
"Between your cloth, Uncle David's roses and Father's cabinets, this family's getting quite a reputation," Yeshua said.
"David's roses are exquisite. Especially the ones of alabaster, " John said. "Anyway, I'm here to deliver a message from my mother. She's having a family gathering at the end of harvest. Your mother said it's about time. She has a way about her. She makes me feel...."
"Like a little twerp?" Yeshua said.
"More like a bratty kid. She keeps reminding me what a handful I used to be. She says it's a wonder my mother has any patience left. Will we see you at the gathering?" His expression was hopeful.
"Tell your mother I'll be there," Ruth said. She liked being treated as an adult, with the right to make her own choices.
"Me too," Yeshua said. "Just the other day I was craving her butter cakes."
"I'll be sure to tell her," John said. "Now, you two better get back to work."
Lightning cracked in the distance, sending a roll of thunder toward them.
"Well, maybe not," John said. "I think we'd better get you home. You've got lots of things to write, Ruthie. You can't do it without paper."
"You know about that, too?" Ruth asked.
"Oh, yes. So does Mother. It's in your eyes. You are a star about to rise," he said, embarrassing himself. Abruptly he picked up a stack of stocks and lumbered along the path ahead of them.
Holding her back, Yeshua grinned at his sister and whispered, "He's partial to you, you know."
"We're cousins."
"Not that close of cousins."
"Hey, you guys, come on," John yelled back at them. "You're going to get drenched."
"Don't get your leg in a cramp," Yeshua said. "We're coming."
A cloud rushed toward them and with it a dumping of rain. As quickly as it came, it was gone.
Ruth stopped and wrung out her clothes.
"You look beautiful even soaking wet," John said, admiring the way the fabric clung to her body.
"And you, John, now you really do smell like a goat," Yeshua said. "A wet goat."
John raised his face to the wind and bellowed, "Baaaaah."
"You're not going to impress her that way," Yeshua said, grinning. "No one wants to marry a goat."
Uneasy, not sure how to react, Ruth bit her lip and stared at the ground.
"You need to shut up, Yeshua, before I trounce you," John said. "I bet I still could."
"Oh, she'll really love that."
"I am here, you know. I can hear you guys," Ruth said.
"Don't pay any attention to him, Ruthie," John said. "He's just upset 'cause he doesn't have a girlfriend."
"Why would I want a girlfriend?" Yeshua said. "Marriage would get in the way."
~~~***~~~