“We were worse than that,” Dan said. “We treated him with contempt. Which one among us ever said a kind word to him?”
“I should have been the one the governor imprisoned,” Judah said, sitting beside them in the circle. “If I had said nothing, if I had not had the idea to sell Joseph, Reuben would have rescued him.”
“We are all guilty of his blood,” Levi said, pulling on his beard. “We should have listened to his cries for help and pulled him out and returned him to our father.”
“He would have told Father what we did,” Naphtali complained. “We never should have attacked him in the first place.”
“Enough of this,” Reuben said, taking some of the grain Judah had pulled from his sack and tossing it onto a griddle he’d hung over the fire. “What is done is done. We can’t undo what is past. We can only try to be better, do better, in the future.”
“What if that man never releases Simeon? If Father won’t let us bring Benjamin with us next time, Simeon will remain his prisoner forever,” Zebulun said, keeping his voice low. Judah could see how upset his younger brother was.
Why had the man kept Simeon? Why not one of the others? Had Simeon done worse to Joseph that no one knew about? Or was this punishment for Simeon’s crimes against Shechem and his whole village because of Shechem’s actions against Dinah?
The answers would not come, and Judah felt his head begin to pound. “We can’t understand it, so let’s forget about it tonight,” he said, knowing how cryptic his tone sounded. “Let’s eat something so we can get an early start tomorrow. Our families need this food, and there is nothing we can do for Simeon now unless we can convince Father to let us return quickly to retrieve him.”
“With Benjamin?” Reuben scoffed. “Father will never agree.”
Judah knew that, but a small part of him refused to believe it. He rolled onto his side near the fire, suddenly no longer hungry, and thought about how fractured his family had become. He could not continue to live with this guilt. But there was nothing he could do to rid himself of it.
42
HEBRON
The following day, Judah saw his father’s camp a short distance away. What should have been relief to finally be far from the black land turned to angst as he considered what to tell his father.
Reuben and Levi came alongside him as they entered the outskirts of the camp. Their wives and children emerged from their tents and ran to meet them. Judah caught sight of Tamar and her maid holding his sons. A mixture of regret and pride at seeing them filled him. They did not draw close.
A deep sigh escaped him. He leaned closer to Reuben. “Let’s not put this off.”
Reuben nodded, stepping out of his wife’s embrace. Each man took his sack and walked toward their father’s tent. Judah called to him, and Jacob limped from the tent and met them in the center of the camp.
“Good, you are back at last,” Jacob said. “I worried I would never see you again, considering how long it took you.”
“We were detained three extra days.” Judah rested his hands on the top of his walking stick, bracing himself for his father’s reaction. “The governor of the land kept Simeon until we return again for more grain. He wants us to bring Benjamin with us.”
Jacob’s brows drew together as he scowled. “What is this you are telling me?”
Judah forced himself to remain steady and relayed all that had happened to them and what they had said to the lord of the land. “We had no choice, Father. The man asked us pointed questions and accused us of being spies. We told him no, we were twelve brothers, the son of one man. We said that the youngest was with his father and the other is no more. But he did not believe us. He kept Simeon prisoner until we return and told us we must bring Benjamin with us or we would not see his face, for he would know we were spies.”
Jacob sat staring, looking from one son to another as if searching to see if Simeon was truly missing. He remained silent as each of them opened his sack to present the grain to their father. Gasps came from each man.
“It was not just Judah whose silver was returned to him. Look, every one of us has the money right here,” Reuben said, and Judah saw fright fill his father’s eyes. Why was the silver in their sacks? How could such a mistake have occurred? Would they now also be accused of thievery?
“You have deprived me of my children,” Jacob said, his voice trembling. “Joseph is no more and Simeon is no more, and now you want to take Benjamin. Everything is against me!”
Reuben stepped close to their father and knelt before him. “You may put both of my sons to death if I do not bring Benjamin back to you. Entrust him to my care, and I will bring him back.”
Jacob shook his head, his expression adamant, making Judah’s heart sink. They would never resolve this if Jacob did not cooperate. “My son will not go down there with you. His brother is dead and he is the only one left. If harm comes to him on the journey you are taking, you will bring my gray head down to the grave in sorrow.”
Judah glanced from one brother to the next, then met his father’s gaze once more. But there was nothing else he could say. When the grain ran low and Jacob hungered again, they would be forced to speak of this and hope their father had a change of mind. But Judah wondered if such a thing were possible. Their father was a stubborn man, a man who had wrestled with God and lived to tell about it. His limp was a constant reminder to them all.
But this time, Judah was not so sure Jacob or any of them would win this battle against the lord of Egypt. They had met their match, and they were on the losing side.
EGYPT
Joseph strode over colorful rugs in his grand governor’s apartments, struggling to keep his mind on his work and not on Simeon, who slept on a pallet in the very cell he had occupied during his years of imprisonment under Potiphar’s command. The irony of how he had come to this moment did not escape him. And his heart both acquitted and condemned him for his actions. Had he done the right thing in keeping Simeon behind? Considering what he had done to Dinah, stripping her of any chance of marriage—even one such as she could have had—didn’t Simeon deserve to be the one Joseph chose?
And yet, what if his father no longer cared what happened to Simeon because of those very actions, though they happened long ago? If Joseph had kept a son of the concubines, his father might have cared even less. Should Judah, the brother who had sold him into slavery, have been his choice? Or should he have taken his chances that his brothers would be forced to return for food and would have to bring Benjamin with them?
A knock on his door drew the attention of one of his guards, and Hamid entered moments later and bowed low.
“Rise, Hamid. Tell me what you know.” Joseph knew his tone was curt, but of late he found himself unable to keep his emotions as tightly in check as he had during the twenty-two years he had spent without a single sight of his family. The anxiety of seeing his brothers made him almost wish they had never come.
“The report from Potiphar’s jailer is that Simeon is doing well. He has been given good provisions, as you requested, and despite his confinement has much freedom within the prison walls.” Hamid stepped back from Joseph’s pacing. “Please, my lord, won’t you sit a moment?”