Joseph stopped abruptly and met Hamid’s concerned look. Defeat settled over him, and he sank into a plush chair, motioning for Hamid to sit opposite him.
“What troubles you, my lord? Is it the Hebrew you apprehended? Or has something happened?” Hamid leaned forward, his ever-present kindness showing in his dark eyes.
“Yes. I question myself and wonder whether I made the right judgment. Perhaps they were honest men after all.” Joseph could not tell Hamid the truth.
Hamid sat in silence a moment, gazing at his hands. At last he lifted his head and looked Joseph in the eye. “I have never known you to do anything without a good reason, Joseph. You have always lived above reproach. So even if those men were honest men, something inside you told you to be cautious. No one would question you on that.”
By his expression, Joseph knew Hamid wanted to question him and his reasons but wouldn’t. “Thank you, Hamid. Make sure the Hebrew gets plenty of time outside the prison to move about. He is . . . that is, it is not good for anyone to stay indoors without the light of day for long.” He stood, aware that he had almost said too much. He is used to walking the fields with the sheep. But only Joseph knew that. “Let us be going. I’m sure there are lines of people already waiting for food, though it is barely past dawn.”
Joseph could not neglect his duties simply because his heart and mind distracted him to think about home instead of Egypt. Egypt was his home now. Let Simeon wait and see if their brothers would return for him or betray him like they had Joseph. Then he would have his answer.
HEBRON, 1818 BC
Jacob took the last of the flatbread from the plate Dinah offered him and dipped it into the stew. Sparks from the central fire flew upward as they licked the wood and dung, giving light as darkness fell over the camp.
“This is the last of it, Father,” Dinah said, setting the plate on the stone beside him. “We need more grain. As it is, we have very few nuts and will end up having to kill several lambs even if we send my brothers to Egypt this very night. They should have gone weeks ago.” Her tone held a hint of accusation, and he did not like her implication.
They blamed him for waiting. Even Benjamin had looked on him with gentle censure. But how could he do what they asked? Yet the lack of food could not be ignored.
He called his sons to come closer from where they sat around the fire. They knelt near him, faces upturned, expectant. Jacob released a deep sigh. “Go back and buy us a little more food,” he said, searching each face. He hated the thought of them leaving him. Hated that Egypt had food while Hebron did not. Why had God not blessed this land of promise and instead blessed a foreign land?
Judah shifted and leaned forward, hands lifted in supplication. “The man warned us solemnly, ‘You will not see my face again unless your brother is with you.’ If you will send our brother along with us, we will go down and buy food for you. But if you will not send him, we will not go down.’”
The words brought a rush of irritation to Jacob’s heart, and his voice rose as he asked, “Why did you bring this trouble on me by telling the man you had another brother?”
“The man questioned us closely about ourselves and our family,” Reuben said. “‘Is your father still living?’ he asked us. ‘Do you have another brother?’ We simply answered his questions. How were we to know he would say, ‘Bring your brother down here’?”
Judah crept closer to hold Jacob’s gaze. “Send the boy along with me and we will go at once, so that we and you and our children may live and not die. I myself will guarantee his safety. You can hold me personally responsible for him. If I do not bring him back to you and set him here before you, I will bear the blame before you all my life. As it is, if we had not delayed, we could have gone and returned twice.”
The rebuke stung, but the look in Judah’s eyes was one Jacob had come to recognize since his son’s return. He was not the young man who had run away from home over twenty years ago. He was responsible and God-fearing. Of all of the sons looking at him now, Judah could be trusted, though Jacob hated having to trust him at all.
“If it must be,” Jacob said at last, “then do this: Put some of the best products of the land in your bags and take them down to the man as a gift—a little balm and a little honey, some spices and myrrh, some pistachio nuts and almonds. Take double the amount of silver with you, for you must return the silver that was put back into the mouths of your sacks. Perhaps it was a mistake. Take your brother also and go back to the man at once. And may God Almighty grant you mercy before the man so that he will let Simeon and Benjamin come back with you. As for me, if I am bereaved, I am bereaved.”
Jacob watched as each son rose and went to his tent to prepare for the trip. Why was God asking such a thing of him? Hadn’t he suffered enough in his life?
“It will be all right, Abba,” Benjamin said, coming to sit beside him. “My brothers will protect me.” He leaned close and kissed Jacob’s cheek, drawing tears from his eyes.
Jacob clung to the boy and held him for a long moment. When at last he released him, he cupped his cheek. “Be careful. And God go with you.”
43
EGYPT
Joseph sat beneath the awning, watching the line of people move slowly closer to his men, offer payment, and receive the grain they desperately needed. More than a year had passed since his brothers had come to Egypt, and Simeon remained in the king’s prison. The guilt he once felt for having kept his brother confined no longer troubled him.
Now he worried that he would have to release Simeon without ever seeing the rest of his family, making some excuse that would force him to lie, and would regret he had ever laid eyes on them again. Then again, he had given them enough grain to last a year. Either they had found another way to find food, were killing their flocks to stay alive, or were on their way even now.
Why had they not already come? The grain could not have lasted this long. Surely they were in need. Would they abandon Simeon as they had abandoned him, as he’d expected? His stomach turned at the thought. He had wanted to believe they could change. Had changed.
He shifted in his seat, looking over the city surrounding this distribution center. And then he spotted them. He gripped the sides of his chair, nearly jumping from his seat, and forced himself to remain in control. They came closer and closer, and there, in the center of the group as if to be protected, was Benjamin. Joseph would have recognized those inquisitive eyes and the way he tilted his head anywhere. Besides, he looked just like their mother.
Emotion swelled, and Joseph told himself to stay calm. He could not break down here in front of all Egypt!
“Hamid, come here,” he called.
“Yes, my lord. What is it?” Hamid bent one knee to lean closer to Joseph.
He pointed at his brothers. “Take these men to my house, slaughter an animal, and prepare a meal. They are to eat with me at noon.”
Hamid turned, and Joseph caught the recognition in his gaze. “Yes, my lord. Right away.” He hurried to do Joseph’s bidding.
Joseph would arrive later, after things were ready. Let them wonder while they waited. Now that they were here, he was in no hurry.
Holding the reins to his donkey, Judah followed the man who had spoken to the lord of the land while Benjamin walked directly behind him. He sensed the fear in his brothers—fear he could not ignore in his own heart as well.