Living without Justice. Loren R. Fisher
I have to tell you something. I’m in love with Samuel.”
Samuel was a student from the academy, who had gone to Tyre to study with Zadok, a former teacher at The Jerusalem Academy. Samuel had returned recently to Jerusalem to continue his Babylonian studies with Magon, who was a great teacher and came to us from Tyre. I knew that Samuel was a fine student and a wonderful human being, but I was shocked, hurt, and speechless. I was not just angry with Rachel and Samuel; I was angry at everything and everyone. I kicked a large stone in the path and hurt my foot. As we walked back to the academy in total silence, I was limping, and I knew that Rachel was crying softly. I was devastated; I was disappointed and confused.
The next day I talked with mother about all of this. She was always helpful in difficult situations. She reminded me of what I had experienced in Beth-shan a few years earlier. “You told me that you enjoyed meeting Sharmila in Beth-shan,” she said. “You said you felt guilty because you had always been so close to Rachel. But then you said that perhaps you and Rachel were more like a brother and a sister. I wonder. Does Rachel feel the same way?”
“That is possible. I do remember feeling guilty, and I was certainly attracted to Sharmila. She was beautiful, but there was more to it than that. When she came close to serve me some melon, I couldn’t speak until a moment later. That event was not planned.”
“Well, I doubt if Rachel planned ‘her event.’”
“I suppose not. Also I remember when Sharmila came to Jerusalem with her father after our trip to Beth-shan, I had some of the same feelings for her. Even though we wrote a few letters after that, the distance did not allow our friendship to grow. Perhaps I should go up to Beth-shan; I would like to see Sharmila.”
“You should wait a few weeks and see how you feel. Also you should write to her. It is possible, you should know, that she has found a ‘Samuel.’ In any case you need to have a clear head on your shoulders.”
Mother was usually right. It took me several weeks to understand my feelings about all this. I did not talk with Rachel for some time, but I saw Samuel and her at the academy. Rachel did talk with mother and told her that she was sorry about all that had happened. But she said, “I could not help myself; it just happened.” Then she added, “I will always love Naam; he is my brother.”
“You should tell that to Naam,” mother suggested.
That same day Rachel approached me. She took my hands in hers and said, “I will always stand by you. We have had a long history together. You will always be my brother.”
“Thanks, and you tell Samuel that he is a lucky fellow.”
“You can tell him. Let’s go see him.”
“Good idea.”
We found Samuel, just leaving Magon’s office. I said to him, “As you know Rachel and I are like brother and sister, and I want to tell you that you are one lucky fellow. Take good care of her.”
I did write to Sharmila and received a great letter from her in return. She wrote that she would like to see me, and this would be possible, because her father, Abdi-anati, wanted to talk with my father and also with Khety and Magon. She would be coming with her father to Jerusalem in about two weeks. When I read this, I let out a shout for joy. Obviously, Sharmila had not met a “Samuel.” In the letter she said that her father was still the only scribe at Beth-shan. She added, “During the last few years, I have been helping father with his work. I am grateful that father has taught me to read and write, and I like helping him. But there is still too much to do. We will be looking for a scribe who would like to come to Beth-shan.”
There was a part of me that wanted to go to Beth-shan, but that was impossible. I was scheduled to teach some classes here in the academy in about two months. I thought, “If Sharmila and I were to marry, her father might need two scribes.” These were wild thoughts. I would have to wait until Sharmila arrived. I did not know what would happen. But this I knew: it was going to be difficult to wait for two weeks.
I decided that I should do two things. One, I should talk with my father about scribes who might be available, and two, I should get busy and prepare for my classes. It was almost time for lunch, and I headed for home with a definite bounce to my gait. Mother was already preparing lunch, and she expected father anytime. I said, “Mother, let me help you, and I want you to sit down long enough to read this letter from Sharmila.”
“I see now why you have a big smile,” she said. “However, I have a question. How will we put up with you while you are waiting?”
“I will not bother anyone. I will be busy. I want to start preparing for my classes.”
“That is a good idea, but it could be difficult for you to concentrate on your preparations. An image of Sharmila may surround you and cloud your vision.”
“I was about to disagree with you, but, even though you are teasing, you may be right. Either way, I will be occupied.”
Just then father came in the door, saying, “I am glad to hear that you will be ‘occupied.’ But what will you be occupied with?”
“With either class preparations or dreams.”
“Dreams,” father mused. “Perhaps you are dreaming of Sharmila. Correct?”
“Correct. But how did you know?”
“I could carry on this deception, but the fact is that today I received a letter from Abdi-anati. He said that Sharmila had written to you, and that she would be coming with him to Jerusalem.”
“There are no secrets,” mother said.
“So, you also know that they will be looking for a scribe,” I said. “I had planned to tell you about that.”
“Yes. I know, and I will look for some one in the next few days.”
We had a good lunch, and the teasing did not cease.
3
While working on my class preparations, I had a difficult time concentrating. But I knew I must get started so I could be free when Sharmila arrived. I did not have to prepare for my beginning Egyptian class. Khety, our teacher from Egypt, asked me to teach this a few years ago, and I have taught it several times. Khety wanted to spend more time with advanced students. But I did have to work on my second class. This class would be about story telling. I was going to look at some of the stories in The Royal Epic and compare them with Egyptian stories that were told for entertainment. The Egyptian stories were: The Story of Sinuhe, The Story of the Shipwrecked Sailor, The Enchanted Prince, and The Story of Wenamon. These stories all have a common theme: the wanderings of a hero, and they are climaxed with a joyous homecoming. Khety brought the texts of these stories from Egypt. However the ending of the text of The Enchanted Prince has been lost. Khety gave me some suggestions for writing an ending for this story. He said that the most important thing about the ending was to be sure that the hero got back to his homeland before his death, because he had to be buried in Egypt. Also we did not have a good text of The Story of Wenamon; it was damaged in transit. But we knew that if we could not figure it out, we would get another text. The Story of Wenamon was a recent tale compared to the others. It was about a hundred years old, and it was probably based on an actual report. I was drawn to it, because most of the events happened not far from here along the coast of the Great Sea. Furthermore, I immediately began to plan my visit to the places that are mentioned in this wonderful story.
I worked on my translations of these stories, but finally I had to quit. I kept thinking about Sharmila. I was convinced that I had always loved her, and I was certain that these feelings were not new and were not surfacing just because Rachel had fallen in love with Samuel. I decided to start planning for what we could do when Sharmila and her father arrived. Mother had already told me they could stay at our house, and that meant there would be some good times around our table. But we needed to do some other things.
I did not know how long they would stay, but I planned for several days. On the first day, I would show her around Jerusalem. The next