Baara's Dreams

Chapter 20

The dream had come to Ophiram in the night, but this time it had a sense of urgency that the other two had not. The dream first came about two months after his betrothed had been bitten by a poisonous snake and died suddenly. Each occurrence of the dream was the same, yet different. A maiden stood outside the gates of Kedesh and beckoned to him. In the first dream she had stood at a distance, veiled and demure. But as he drew closer, Ophiram had looked directly into large brown eyes full of entreaty and promise. During the next month, those eyes had intruded on his consciousness during his waking hours.

The second dream had come a month later. The maiden again stood outside the city gates and beckoned, but this time her veil was lowered. He clearly saw the slender face, swarthy skin, high cheek bones, and a strangely slender, short nose for a Israelite girl. Still, Ophiram was certain she was an Israelite. One long, curly stray hair had escaped from under her headpiece and fell invitingly down her right cheek. Again the eyes were bright with promise, but strangely haunting.

This third time she stood without headpiece or veil, a mane of long raven-black curls framing the becoming face. As she beckoned, a sudden desert wind blew her hair wildly, molding her tunic momentarily against her slender frame, revealing a feminine shape. This time her eyes beseeched him to hurry and come. Before her beckoning hand had been languid. Now her hand clamored for attention, as though he had delayed too long.

Unable to shake the feeling of urgency created by the dream, Ophiram decided to go into Kedesh and consult with his eldest brother who had left in the wee hours to take wares to the town market. The family lived in a group of one-room clay huts on the land their ancestors had inherited after the conquest of Caanan. Their father, Zorah, had died following a battle with Aram raiders several years before, and Manoah had become the head of the family. As each of the four sons had married, they had built a hut near the one occupied by Manoah, his wife, his mother and Ophiram, the youngest child. The girls had already married and moved into the homes of their husbands.

Ophiram too had begun to build in preparation for his wedding. The partially completed clay hut stood unfinished and open to the elements. The walls were beginning to crumble under the onslaught of the elements. When his betrothed had died, he saw no reason to roof the one room dwelling. He had no desire to live there alone and had no immediate prospects for a wife. The walls could be repaired and a roof could easily be added, if and when Ophiram had need of a home.

Mostly the family was self-sufficient, but Manoah had learned the potter's trade and begun selling his wares at the Kedesh market once a week. Sometimes Ophiram would accompany him and bring honey he had gleaned from the hives he tended or produce from the garden, if it were a season of plenty. The hides and meat from the game he killed were used by the family and were not sold in the market. The other two boys were herders, tending the family flocks. Since flock size was often an indication of wealth, the family only sold stock occasionally and only to those who came seeking because the reputation of the quality flock had spread. When they sold, they did not need to take their stock to market, the buyers came to them and paid excellent prices for their animals.

As Ophiram came in sight of Kedesh, noon was approaching. He expected the gates to be vacant and the outside of the city quiet in the heat of the day. No one came to the well outside the gates at midday. Unless there was urgent business, the men didn't gather at the gates until the cool of the evening. But today was evidently not an ordinary day. A large crowd of men was gathered outside the gate. At the front of the crowd sat a foreigner, obviously an Aram official, atop a camel. But the official was not the object of attention. The men were looking intently at something, or someone, standing in front of the camel. They spoke to one another in low murmurs. The agitated sound carried on the wind but with no distinguishable words.