|
Fiction
The
Adulteress
a short story by
Sifa Asani
Gowon
I am awakened by loud banging and shouts outside
the door. I am momentarily confused until I see
Shimei hurriedly putting his clothes on, his
eyes wild with fear.
“They are here! We are caught!! Oh, may YHWH
have mercy, we are going to die today! They will
kill us both!” he sputters. He stumbles over his
clothing as the shouts grow louder and the
banging fiercer. My mind is still dulled by
sleep, my body too shocked to make a move to get
up from bed and get dressed.
The door crashes open and I see a group of men
rushing in. They seem to pass Shimei and run
toward - me! One of them slaps me across my face
as the other pulls my hair. The force of my hair
being pulled is enough to drag me out of bed, my
nakedness apparent for all to see. I gasp in
pain and taste blood on my lips.
“Cover her up,” I hear one voice say, “ At least
let a bit of modesty be preserved before we
stone her.”
“Why cover the harlot up?” another cruel voice
that I recognize as Yohanaytan, my elder
brother, hisses. “She has brought shame upon us
all and should die like a dog, in shame!”
I use the opportunity to pull the sheet around
me loosely. I look around for Shimei. He must
have used the ensuing chaos to flee and preserve
himself. Just like everyone in my life. So much
for love and standing beside me through thick
and thin! A smile curves on my lips and a small
humourless chuckle escapes before I have time to
stop it. Another slap cracks across my face.
This time I cannot stop the quick tears that
come to my eyes as a result of the pain.
“Shameless baggage!!You even dare to smile and
laugh over your sin?” my other brother, Binyamin
spits. “You are nothing but a harlot. A whore!
You have been so from the day of your conception
and you will die as one!”
I am dragged out from the room, through the
house and thrown out on the street. I barely
have time to recover when I am dragged to my
feet, beaten mercilessly as I am shoved and
pushed forward.
The crowd slowly swells as other men, full of
righteous indignation, join the ranks of my
accusers. Women look out of their windows,
pointing fingers at me and cursing. I can hear
some of them jeering.
“Where is your beauty now, harlot?” “Shameless
woman! Be grateful you are barren, for YHWH has
spared your children the shame of having a
mother such as you!” and the shouts went on.
I fall down again and feel a kick in my side. I
push myself up only to be slapped and punched
again. I feel my right eye swelling. The
physical pain is overwhelming but it is the pain
in my heart that threatens to undo me. I
remember my life: the misery, the betrayal and
pain I have had to endure over and over again. I
remember.
I was cursed with beauty. It was my burden. I
have raven black hair, wavy and abundant. I also
have almond shaped green eyes, with luxuriant
black lashes and a full red mouth. I was born to
seduce and tempt. Or at least that is what I
have been told from the moment I was 12 years
old. I remember my father, a high ranking member
of the Sanhedrin, being told by his friends,
“You had better marry that one off quickly
before she tempts a fine young man into sin.” I
didn’t even know what sin they were talking
about. Then.
My brother’s friends and even my father’s
friends gazed at me with lust from the time I
was 14 years old. That made my brothers seethe
with rage and my sisters to boil with jealousy.
I tried to be modest, following all Jewish
customs to remain proper and decent but to no
avail. Short of covering my face entirely, there
was nothing I could do. At 15, I was married off
to Barzillai, a man closer to my father in age
than me, an upstanding member of the Sanhedrin.
I didn’t like him. He looked at me like I was a
piece of prized cattle, a hideous glint in his
eye. I remember weeping the night before my
wedding, begging my father to release me from
the betrothal. That was the first and last time
my father slapped me.
“You will marry him and give him many fine
sons,” my father said, his eyes as cold as
winter snow.
Thus, my marriage began. I could not endure
Barzillai’s forced caresses. There was no love,
no tenderness, only lust and anger. When he saw
my lack of response, he took to beating me.
Then, of course, there were no sons. Or
daughters. That was all attributed to me.
“A curse on you, barren woman!” he would shout
often. His whole family blamed me for my lack of
children. I was distraught. I knew nothing of
love. I had not received more than anger and
jealousy at home so I knew nothing else. Until I
met Shimei.
He was my husband’s nephew. He came to stay with
us under the tutelage of Barzillai, with hopes
of becoming a part of the Sanhedrin. He was
tall, handsome and showed me what I thought was
love. He spoke tender words to me under the
moonlight in the garden when the rest of the
household slept and my husband was off muttering
prayers. Prayers were of no use to me. I felt
YHWH had played a cruel joke on me, and then
left me to my fate. I felt that all members of
the Sanhedrin and indeed society in general were
hypocrites – saying prayers in public and
behaving no better than wild oxen in private. It
wasn’t long before I let Shimei into my heart
and then into my bed. I knew it wouldn’t last
but I had not expected to get caught. . .
|
