Martha (7 page)

“I would wish more than that, beloved, but for now, let that be a seal between us.”

She moved back from him until only the tips of their fingers touched and finally she turned away. She could not look back at him, for she would have run back into his arms and promised anything. She lifted her shawl over her head and walked home as a tear slid slowly down one cheek.

 10 

The dream had been sweet. She was wrapped in Thaddeus's arms, looking out toward the sea. Someone was calling and she was shaken awake by her sister Mary.

“Martha, come quickly. It is Abba. I don't think he is breathing.”

It was barely light, but Martha rose quickly and followed her sister to her father's pallet. Mary had taken to sleeping near her father through the night lest he wake and need her. Lazarus awakened and he too hurried to his father.

Ephraim lay peacefully on his pallet, his face serene in death. He'd left them quietly in his sleep sometime during the night.

Mary began to weep softly and Lazarus remained on his knees, his head bowed over the body of his father. Martha felt hot tears roll down her own cheeks as she tore the part of her tunic over her heart to express her grief. She had leaned on her father's wisdom so long, and now he was gone. First her mother and now her father—the weight of the responsibility felt like a stone in her heart. It was all on her shoulders now.

As soon as it was light, Lazarus went to tell Nathan and the neighbors. Martha sent Mary for Anna and Helah to begin the
aninut
, the preparation time. When they came, the women prepared Ephraim's body for burial, rubbing it with oil. The women helped Martha lift the body to wrap it in long strips of linen and tucked fragrant spices in the folds. Mary bound his head with a linen napkin. The local rabbi was sent for to say the kaddish, the mourning prayers, for him. Most of the village came out of their homes to join in the funeral procession. The women wept with loud cries, flinging up dust and tearing their clothes as a sign of great mourning. Ephraim's body was borne on a bier through the town to the place of burial and the entrance sealed with a stone. Mary and Martha wept as they left the tomb, but Lazarus walked stoically beside them, his eyes dry but his face a mask of pain.

When they returned to the house, Judith brought eggs, a symbol of life, and bread. It was the
seudat havraah,
the meal of condolences. During the seven days of mourning, the shivah
,
Martha, Mary, and Lazarus sat on low stools, and the sisters wept together. No clothes were changed, no meals prepared. Their feet were bare as a sign of mourning and no work was done in any way. For Martha, whose life revolved around her household, it did not matter. The burden of responsibility for her family was like a great cloak that had been laid on her shoulders. Food was brought by friends and neighbors. Martha watched her brother as he sat, unshaven, staring at the floor. If only he would give vent to his grief. He recited the kaddish each day as required by a son for his father, standing up before the minyan of ten men, affirming according to the law, the merit of his deceased father, but otherwise said little. Martha knew he would recite the kaddish each day of the eleven months of the
avelut
, the period prescribed for mourning a parent.

“Lazarus.” She touched him on the shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

He gave her a wan smile and shook his head. “Do not fear for me, sister, I will be all right.”

Nathan came after the seven days of shivah, and the two men left the courtyard to walk in the fields and talk. Martha watched them go and felt somewhat comforted. Nathan was a friend and loved their father. Perhaps Lazarus could unburden himself with Nathan.

Lazarus returned some time later and his countenance had lifted. She could see by his face that he had wept. He had vented his grief at last.

At the end of the thirty days of mourning, Martha watched Lazarus as he went down the road to return to his jobs in the village. Martha knew her authority must decrease as Lazarus took his place as head of the household. With a deep sigh, she went to her loom to finish a cloth she'd started before her father died. As she sent the shuttle along the strands of wool, her mind remained on Lazarus.

She had been like a mother to him for so long that she'd always seen him as a boy. Yet now it was as if an invisible hand gripped her heart. Was this how every mother felt when suddenly she sees that the child she's nurtured is no longer a child? This morning it was not a boy who looked back at her, but a man.

Mary went about her work, but her mood was somber, and when she had the opportunity, she poured out her sorrow in the minor keys of the songs she played on her lyre.

Martha was not able to go to the Mount of Olives for the month of mourning, and she wondered if Thaddeus knew about her father. The next Sabbath, in the quiet of the afternoon, she felt free to once again go to the Garden of Gethsemane. She told Mary she just needed to go for a walk and hated herself for her deceit. Fortunately Mary had other things on her mind and nodded absentmindedly. Lazarus was away, visiting with Shua.

Ignoring the guilt that followed like a shadow, Martha walked quickly to the grove of olive trees, praying Thaddeus would be there. When he stepped from among the trees and held out his arms, this time she ran into them gladly.

“I heard about your father,” he said gently as he held her. “I'm so sorry. I would have come to you, but that would have caused more harm than good and I would not cause you more pain.”

She looked up at him through her tears. “I knew you couldn't come. I understand.”

“How is it with your household? Your brother and sister?”

They walked slowly together through the grove.

“Lazarus keeps his grief to himself and will not talk about it. Mary weeps silently and plays her lyre. The melodies are sad, and hard for me to hear, but I could not ask her to stop. I miss my father greatly. Ill as he was, he gave me strength.”

“Martha, I would be happy to make a home for your brother and sister also if they would let me. They would be welcome.”

Her heart swelled with love for him, but she shook her head. “Lazarus is to be married. He won't leave our home, for it will be his and Shua's if I leave. As to Mary, that will have to be her decision. I'm sure she will wish to marry and remain in the village.” She shook her head. “Oh, Thaddeus, my heart tells me to go with you, but I just don't know what to do.”

He turned and drew her close again, drawing a rough finger slowly down her cheek. He would not shame her by trying to kiss her, knowing Jewish customs, but he looked at her face intently.

“I am going on patrol with my men tomorrow. We have word where we can find a robber and murderer by the name of Barabbas, and we are to hunt him down and capture him. I don't know how long I will be gone, beloved, but can I hope for your answer when I return?”

She nodded wordlessly and laid her head against his broad chest with a small sigh of contentment. She was loved by a decent man who could offer her marriage, to take away the shame of her spinsterhood. And he wanted children. She could be a mother at last. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

He gently put her away from him. “You tempt me, beloved, but I cannot treat you as a street woman. When we come together, it will be as man and wife.” He touched her cheek again. “Until I return . . .”

“Until you return,” she whispered as he left her standing forlornly among the trees.

Walking back, she alternated between euphoria and panic. Her heart was saying yes and her mind gave all the practical reasons why it would not work. How could she abandon her home and all she'd known? Would Mary somehow elect to go with her or stay with Lazarus? Also, Lazarus was about to be married. Shua was a sweet girl, but she was young. How could she take over the responsibilities of their household?

Martha slipped quietly through the gate and closed it behind her. She quickly began to put together their supper, avoiding Mary's eyes. Guilt filled her heart and in her frustration she snapped at her sister.

“Mary, must you move so slowly? Bring the platters for the table.”

At the sharp tone of voice, Mary gave her a questioning look, but said nothing. Martha was instantly contrite. She alternated between clattering the cooking pots to long moments staring off into space. More than once she caught Mary looking at her with raised eyebrows. From time to time she also caught Lazarus watching her, his brows knit in concern. She missed his cheerful attitude and would almost welcome one of his pranks, but he was silent.

Even Nathan, who did not come to the house as often as he had done when Ephraim lived, passed her in the village with a look of pity on his face. Did he suspect something? Had she been seen with Thaddeus? In her anxiety to meet him, had she been careless and not watched to see if anyone from their village was near?

Her questions were answered one night when Mary was asleep. Lazarus came to her out in the courtyard as she sat looking up at the stars.

“They will not give you the answer you seek, Martha.”

She turned, startled. “What do you mean?”

He sat down beside her. “You are my sister and I love you. It is my duty to protect you, even from yourself.” His eyes flashed. “It is known that you are meeting a Roman soldier in the olive grove.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “The village knows?”

He shook his head. “I thought you were acting strangely and followed you this last Sabbath. When I saw who you were meeting, I was afraid for you.” He folded his arms. “Nathan also knows. I wanted to talk to someone. I didn't know what to do.”

She gasped. “How could you share this, with Nathan of all people?”

“He is a friend. Who else can I speak of this with? Someone needed to stop this dangerous liaison. Martha—a Roman soldier, how could you shame our family in this way?”

It was the first time Lazarus's anger had been directed at her and she was taken back.

“Actually, you were not as careful as you thought. Nathan already knew.”

Nathan knew. Who else knew? Was she now the topic of village gossip? Martha felt her face flame.

“Nathan was on his way back from the city and saw you running into the grove. He thought there was something wrong and was concerned for you. He followed to see if he could be of help. Unfortunately he saw you with the captain. We have kept it to ourselves, hoping you would come to your senses.”

He flung his hands in the air. “You must end this, Martha. I have never known you to be so foolish. Tell me, has anything happened between you?”

She knew what he was asking. “No, he has been respectful, Lazarus, and kind. We only talk.” She blushed in the darkness, thinking of the last time when she had shamelessly leaned on Thaddeus's chest.

She sighed deeply. In a way she was glad Lazarus knew. She had desperately wanted to talk with him about it. Nathan was another matter.

Lazarus took her by the shoulders. “You must stop this foolishness now, Martha. It is wrong and you know it. What will happen to your reputation should anyone else find out?”

She hated the pleading note in her words. “Lazarus, he has asked me to marry him. He has a villa on the island of Cyprus and can offer me a home . . . and children. His mother was Jewish and he is a Godfearer. We would raise our children in our faith.”

Surely Lazarus understood what that meant to her. He was silent, dropping his hands to his sides. She held her breath, waiting for his response.

“You would leave your family and village behind?”

“Oh, Lazarus, I am so torn. I love him.” She began to weep, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

It was the first time Lazarus had seen her so vulnerable, and knowing what he could have said, she was surprised at his next words.

“You have given up much to care for Mary and me, to tend the home for our father. I think I can see how this would happen. I know you want to be married and there is no hope for that in our village for you now.” He paused, choosing his words. “You are a good woman, Martha, and a good sister. You must do what you feel is right.” He sighed. “While I do not approve of this relationship, I will not renounce you as my sister for your choice.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Lazarus. It is more than I hoped for.”

He shook his head. “I cannot think that this will be what you want it to be. Have you told him you would go with him?”