Thou shalt not......

As she navigated the steep river bank she imagined she feel their eyes boring into her back, the quasi palpable weight of their disapproval prodding at her like a giant accusing finger. They were all talking about her now, she knew, tearing her reputation to shreds like a pack of jackals with a fresh kill.

Suddenly she felt herself slipping, her feet lost their purchase on the muddy river bank and she slid the last few feet, struggling to remain upright without dropping the basket of washing. As she regained her equilibrium she glanced up the bank at the other women, hoping her humiliating descent into the river had gone unnoticed. As with all her hopes recently this one turned to ashes, burning in the hot fires of her embarrassment as she saw the others pointing at her and shaking their heads. Only a few weeks ago she would have been with them in the gentle shallows where the flat rocks made washing clothes easy, sharing in the village gossip as avidly as any, never thinking that she would soon be its target.

Dalet had arrived late for the wedding celebration it had seemed the crowning joy, her childhood friend, close as a brother, returned to her after five years. She had ignored the disapproving looks when she had insisted that he stay under her roof, the opportunity to extend hospitality to a guest for the first time too good to refuse. Besides, there would be servants; it was not as if they would be alone.

The rest of the night was a blur in her memory, the sweetness of her first wine, then talking late into the night with Dalet. In the morning she had woken with a throbbing head and dry mouth and discovered that Dalet had left early in the morning without waiting to say farewell. Disappointed and intent on returning to her bed, she found the servants in the bedroom, heads close, whispering to each other. Pushing the girls aside she had seen the red stain on the sheets and her world came crashing down.

Now she awaited the return of her husband with a growing feeling of dread. He had been gone for six weeks now, but a messenger had brought word that the burned Synagogue was almost repaired. Once returned, it would not take long for the rumours to reach his ears. The servants had left her employ immediately and has wasted no time advertising her shame. The rumours had intensified when her monthly cycle had not come, the fact that Dalet and Yusef had been the best of friends only adding fuel to the fire.

Over the ensuing weeks depression had settled upon her, leaving her feeling trapped in some dark parody of her old life. She knew that once Yusef returned a charge of adultery would not be far behind and then the shame and pain of being stoned to death would follow. These thoughts weighed heavily on her as she mechanically washed the clothes in the cold water, then struggled up the steep bank, trudging back through the village to her home.  As she pushed open the door, her heart shuddered in her breast and she gave a choking gasp, staring at her husband.

She fell to her knees, letting the basket drop, shuffled over to him and hugged his legs tightly. Did he know yet? The next few seconds stretch out almost unbearably, then his hand gently stroked her hair and she allowed herself to breathe again.

When he spoke, his deep voice was soft and sounded tired, ‘Before I had walked half the way through the village I had been told by three people of your infidelity.’

It felt as if a hand was gripping her heart, crushing the life out of her, still clinging to her husbands legs she glanced up to see him staring down at her, no trace of anger on his face.
‘When they told me you had been unfaithful a great anger grew in me, more terrible than any I have known.’ The gentle hand continued to stroke her hair as he spoke, a counterpoint to his words.
‘But then, when they told me who had shamed you, I knew they lied. I called them out and when they would not recant, I smote them.’
A strange feeling was growing within her, a mad hope that her husband would not believe the rumours mixed with the knowledge that the child growing within her was proof that could not be denied.

‘They want to drive us from the village, Maryam,’ he said softly, the stroking hand never stopping as he looked down into her eyes.
‘But they cannot know what I do. A secret from long ago, one I swore to shield a friend from shame.’
Maryam stared up at Yusef uncomprehendingly, her puzzlement writ plain on her face.
‘You see,’ her husband whispered, ‘when Dalet and I were boys he saved me from being gored by a wild pig, but in saving me, he lost that which makes a man a man. He survived, but was left him incomplete.’ 
He paused, listening.
‘The elders come; they will examine you and provide the proof of your innocence I cannot provide.’

*************************************************
Disbelief still sat heavily on Maryam as they filed out. She had been examined by six different women, each forced to admit that she was untouched. As the door closed Yusef sat down on the bed next to his young wife.
‘I don’t understand’ she whispered, ‘I am with child.’
A puzzled look crossed his face, replaced with an expression of dawning awe.
‘Then the child must belong to God, for as witnesses bear, no man has touched you. We will leave here, people will not understand. We will travel to the city. There is ample work for a carpenter there. We will find a home in Jerusalem.’