“It’s nothing,” I said, sitting up, “just a nightmare.” But it wasn’t nothing. For the first time, I remembered a detail from my old dream. There was a horse, driven fast. I wanted to close my eyes, to hold onto the vision, to see more.
“You sure you’re alright?” The concern on Zim’s face appeared so out of place.
If I was going to talk about my nightmares with anyone, it wasn’t Zim. I opened the sack of food my aunt had prepared and pulled out bread and cheese, giving up on any hope of slipping back into the dream to learn more. “Come eat.” I watched Zim help himself to a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese. At least it was Zim and not Yonaton who’d heard me screaming. Yonaton’s concern wouldn’t have been pushed aside so easily, certainly not with a bribe of food.
In the vineyard and the surrounding fields, couples were sitting and walking together. Two groups again formed on opposite sides of the vineyard, each much smaller than the night before. These must be the ones who failed to find a match. Would they be back next year?
“So you’re heading back to the gathering today?” Zim asked between bites.
It hadn’t occurred to me that Zim wouldn’t know. “No, the gathering was closed after the wedding.”
“Why?”
“So everyone can bring in their harvests before the rains.”
Zim’s eyes gleamed. “Even the prophets have begun to fear Baal? Yambalya will be pleased.”
My first instinct was to defend them, but I held myself back. It did feel as if the prophets were giving way to the Baal.
“You’re going home then?”
I stopped eating and stared down. “I can’t go home.”
“Can’t go home? Why not?”
“My aunt sent me away.”
“Why? What happened?”
My throat suddenly felt dry, and I swallowed hard. “My uncle brought a Baal into the house. My aunt said that my parents would never accept me living in a house with an idol, so she made me leave. She told me to go to my father’s family in Judah.”
“Judah? How are you supposed to get across the border?”
“My aunt gave me copper. She said in Mitzpah I’ll be able to find someone to guide me over.”
“So that’s it? You’re going? And you’ll just hope that whoever takes your payment can get you there alive?”
“What choice do I have?”
Zim shook his head. “Just because your aunt sent you to Judah doesn’t mean you have to go. You’re almost of age, Lev—it’s time to become a man.”
I turned away, my heart feeling like a cold stone in my chest.
“She threw you out—it’s no longer her choice. Come back to Shomron with me.”
“Shomron?”
“Yes, Shomron. Queen Izevel is building two temples, one for Baal, the other for Ashera. The nobility are competing to offer the biggest feasts each day. There aren’t enough musicians for all the ceremonies and banquets. Two nights ago, I even played for Uriel’s son.”
“Uriel’s son?’
“The Chief Priest of Israel.” Zim laughed at the look on my face. “Didn’t you notice their likeness at the wedding? It might have been Uriel forty years ago!”
I pictured the face of the priest. If the thick brows were white and the skin across his broad cheekbones wrinkled, it would have been Uriel. How had I not noticed? “But Uriel hates the Golden Calf. How can his son be its priest?”
Zim shrugged. “You can ask him when we get to Shomron.”
“I couldn’t do that!”
“Why not? I did.”
“You did? What did he say?”
“He said he used to walk in his father’s ways. But his father was always traveling, tending to the needs of the people. He wasn’t there for his own family. Ten years ago, he decided he’d had enough.”
“And you’re playing for him?”
“I’m playing for everyone. There aren’t enough musicians in Shomron. They need you there.”
I dropped the bread in my hand, my hunger forgotten. “You heard what my aunt said—my parents wanted me far away from the Baal.”
“Your parents are dead, Lev.”
My crying the day before must have unblocked the channel of tears, for fresh drops clouded my vision.
“I know it hurts, but it’s true.”
My eyes strayed toward the lone men leaving Shiloh with heavy steps.
