“That’s right.” Zim snickered, his head bobbing to the beat.
“How can Master Yosef agree to this?”
Zim laughed louder. “He says it’s one of the holiest days of the year.”
The last of the girls danced into the vineyard, and I could no longer make out anyone clearly. Hundreds of shapes moved beneath the vines, limbs twirling, their garments silver against the darkened ground. We performed our fastest songs, one after the other, and my energy surged as I imagined hundreds of girls dancing to my music.
Toward the end of our third song, a couple emerged from the vineyard walking side-by-side up the hill toward Yosef. They stopped before the prophet, faces lit by the fire, staring into each other’s eyes. The man appeared neither young nor old, with a severely crooked nose that distorted an otherwise handsome face. She was much younger than he and wore an elaborately embroidered dress, her long braids falling from a white scarf on her head. She was very pretty, and there was something unnervingly familiar about her.
I continued to stare until it came to me—I knew her. Her name was Hadassah, the daughter of one of the poorest families in Levonah. She looked so different tonight, I was surprised I’d recognized her at all. She must have spent hours, if not days, cleaning herself and braiding her hair. I had seen her only in dirty, tattered clothes. How could her family afford such an ornate dress?
Yosef addressed them, but his words were lost in the music. The couple glanced at each other and nodded with the expression of children getting away with something forbidden. They bowed their heads, and Yosef placed one hand on the man’s head, holding the other just above Hadassah’s. When he removed his hands, they gazed at each other again, clasped hands, and withdrew from the fire.
More couples emerged from the vineyard, ascending the hill toward Yosef, and waiting in a line that began to stretch down to its very edge. “What is he saying to them?” I asked Zim.
“Go listen.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Something about the expression in Zim’s eyes made my fears seem childish. I peered around for Emanuel, but he was nowhere in sight. With six other musicians playing, I wouldn’t be missed if I went quickly. I left my kinnor and crept down the hillside, stooping under a rocky shelf that projected out just behind Yosef. A new couple stood before him now, both rather short and broadly built.
“It’s hard to see in the vineyard,” Yosef said, “So I want you to take a good look at each other in the firelight.” The couple peered at each other and smiled. “You are certain of your choice?”
The man said “Yes,” and the woman nodded.
“Very well. Bow your heads. May the Holy One bless your home to be like the tent of Isaac and Rivka. May you be blessed to raise righteous children, and to eat from the bounty of the land.” Yosef lowered his hands, indicating the two disciples at his side. “These men are your witnesses that you have been bound today in holiness. You may go.” The man stepped away from the fire first, and his bride followed him into the darkness.
I returned to my place among the musicians, my thoughts a whirl. “They’re getting married?”
“That’s right,” Zim said.
“But I’ve been to plenty of weddings, why—”
“Nobody wants to get married this way. But some families can’t find good matches for their children. They might have no wealth, no connections. And look around, some of these people are just plain ugly. But they all come to Shiloh and find each other in the vineyard.”
“I recognized that first girl; she’s from my town. Her family is really poor, but she was wearing a fancy dress.”
“All the girls borrow dresses—it’s part of the rules of Shiloh. No one can tell who is rich or poor in the vineyard.”
“So how do they find each other?”
“The girls just go under the vines, dancing and calling out to the men. The pretty ones say ‘Come find yourself a beautiful wife.’ The ones from good families say ‘Find yourself a wife to build a family with.’ Inside that vineyard is the only place where the people of Israel don’t hold back.”
“So what if they aren’t beautiful or from good families?”
“They say, ‘Choose a wife for the sake of heaven,’ though I’m not sure why heaven should prefer an ugly wife!”
A place in Israel where no one holds back—no wonder Zim was drawn to it. “Did you ever think of going into the vineyard and finding a bride for yourself?”
“Me? Get married?” Zim threw back his head with a loud laugh. “I’m living in Shomron now.”
“So?”
“So Baal isn’t the only god that Izevel brought down with her from Tzidon.”
“Who else is there?”
“There’s Ashera.”
“Who’s he?”
“She. She’s the mother of Baal, the goddess of the Earth.”
“Yeah? Do her priests also cut themselves up?”
“Priestesses. And no, they don’t.”
“So what’s her worship like?”
“A bit like this. Except in the morning, you don’t wake up with a wife.”
The sun already blazed above the mountains when Zim shook me awake the next morning. My first thought was how strange it was for Zim to be awake before me, and then I realized I was bathed in sweat.
“You were screaming.”
