But he was not. Not anymore. He was simply a slave with a high rank who had no power to help anyone. Not even a beautiful, helpless young woman who needed him.
The next day and into the following week, Joseph could not pass the weaving rooms without a deep feeling of guilt filling him. One glance in Heba’s direction and he felt the resignation and even despair emanating from her. He did not stop to speak with her. What could he possibly say to make things right? This was worse than Dinah’s situation when Shechem raped her. This was unstoppable abuse from a powerful man. At least Dinah had had a way out, even if it was brought about in the wrong way. Their father could have saved her.
But he can’t save you. The thought caused him to stop near the steps leading to his work area. He stared at the wide steps and toward the room filled with papyrus and numerous records he kept for Potiphar.
A sigh escaped. The heavy weight that had landed on him the night he discovered Heba’s plight would not abate. But that could not stop him from doing his work. He drew in a breath and climbed the stairs. The sun stood at its midpoint in the sky, a time when the workers took a rest from the heat.
He moved into the house, where it was cooler, and sat at the table in his work area. He glanced at the work from the day before and picked up a clay tablet to record what he had seen thus far today. It gave him a small sense of relief knowing that Potiphar had left again for a few days to travel south in Egypt. At least Heba would be free of his abuse for now.
He picked up a reed utensil and wrote his findings in the hieroglyphic markings he had learned well in the years he had served here. He bent forward, intent on getting the amounts correct, and did not sense another’s presence until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.
He jerked away and pushed his chair from the table. Aneksi. She had the same look in her eyes that he’d seen more times than he could remember. Always her pleading tone was the same.
This time, however, as he glanced beyond her, he realized there was no one else working at this hour of the day. The other servants were resting on their pallets. He was alone in the house with her.
Determination filled her gaze, and she came closer. She grabbed a fistful of his cloak in her hand. “Joseph,” she purred. “Come now. You have resisted me long enough.”
He shook his head. “You know that I cannot do such a thing.”
The coy look turned to a cunning scowl. “You cannot refuse me! Come on, sleep with me!”
Joseph would not end up like Heba or Hamid. He would not disgrace his God with this woman.
He tried to pull away, but she clung to him. He pulled harder, but she used both hands until she held half his cloak.
“You will come,” she seethed, her anger palpable.
Fearing that she would pounce and push him to the floor despite his stronger frame, he tore himself from her grasp, leaving the cloak in her hands. He ran toward the servants’ quarters with only his tunic on. But the cloak showed his symbol and rank. There would be no mistaking it as his, and she had it now.
As he hurried toward the fields, Aneksi’s screams followed him. He stopped and turned to watch from a hidden place behind one of the servants’ buildings. Her guards came rushing from other rooms. And not only her guards but all of the men who worked beneath him on Potiphar’s estate. Even Hamid.
“Look!” she said. “My husband has brought this Hebrew slave here to make fools of us! He came into my room to rape me, but I screamed. When he heard me scream, he ran outside and got away, but he left his cloak behind with me.”
The men surrounding her said words he couldn’t hear, as too many were talking at once.
The clamor of voices dimmed, allowing Joseph to hear Hamid clearly. “What do you want us to do, my lady?” he asked.
Had his friend spoken loudly as a warning to Joseph? Or was this friend also going to betray him?
“You are my witnesses against him. When my husband returns, I will tell him what happened. You will back up my words.” Aneksi let out a bitter laugh. “Now find Joseph. He will be held in Potiphar’s guardroom to wait for my husband.”
“Yes, my lady,” one of the guards said.
Joseph slipped toward the copse of trees out of sight of the house. Should he run and try to leave Egypt? Would Potiphar believe her? He knew Aneksi slept with the servants. He could not possibly believe such an accusation against Joseph. Could he?
Joseph sank to the earth, head in his hands. They wouldn’t find him quickly. And he desperately needed time to think, to plan, to pray.
Oh, God of my fathers, come to my rescue. Save me from this evil woman who would have me betray You.
Surely God would protect him. But He had not stopped Joseph’s own brothers from betraying him. Why should he expect God’s help to keep him from betrayal at the hands of foreigners?
The sun sank until it rested on the edge of the horizon. Joseph stood and brushed the dust from his tunic, glancing toward the house now illumined with lamps. Potiphar would return soon. Tonight. Tomorrow. No one knew when. But Joseph had heard the servants moving through the fields and saw some near the sleeping quarters, searching from room to room.
He was well hidden here, but not so well that Hamid couldn’t find him. Hamid was aware of many of Joseph’s hideaways, where he came to pray or escape the pressures of being overseer. Should he find Hamid and allow him to take him to the house to await Potiphar’s judgment? Or wait for Hamid to come to him?
His stomach growled, and he realized how long it had been since he had eaten. Darkness deepened, but he could not return to his rooms to sleep. Must he sleep in the dirt, nestled beneath the sycamore trees?
Heavy footfalls caught his attention as they crunched twigs. He peered from behind a tree and saw Hamid’s unmistakable build illumined by the light of the moon. Defeat settled over him. He could not hide from his friend. Would Hamid help him escape if he asked him? Or should he cast himself on Potiphar’s mercy?
“Joseph?” Hamid whispered, his voice closer now.
Joseph stepped into the swatch of light. “I am here.”
Hamid glanced behind him and drew Joseph back into the shadows. “You know Aneksi has forced us to look for you, do you not?”
Joseph nodded. “I heard her shout her order as I fled here. She has done a great wrong, Hamid. She accosted me and grabbed my cloak until I had to let it slip from my shoulders into her hands. I could not give in to her demands to sleep with her.”
Hamid took Joseph’s measure. “You are a better man than I, Joseph. I could not refuse her as you have.”
“Little good it will do me now,” Joseph said, clasping his hands in front of him. “So what will you do?”
Hamid drew a hand along his jaw. “I would hide you and help you slip away from here, but you know Potiphar would have my head if he found out. And Aneksi would not defend me.”
“I know that. You cannot help me flee. Where would I go regardless? I have no money to take me home again. And I will not steal from Potiphar to finance such a trip.” God would not want him to steal to escape, would he? Fear and confusion fell over him, and in that moment he had no idea what to do except to surrender to Hamid and wait for Potiphar. “Take me to Potiphar’s guardroom,” he said at last, though he still hesitated to take a step forward.