Till Shiloh Comes (10 page)

He began to run around crying loudly, but it was all in vain. Finally he stopped and bowed his head. “What has happened to him?”

Finally a hopeful thought occurred to him.
Maybe my brothers came and took him out. They must have thought better of what we had done!

Clinging to that hope, he ran stumbling toward the place where he had left them. When he got in sight of his brothers, he began to call out their names. “Levi … Simeon,” he gasped. He saw them all turn to look at him and knew they were surprised to see him coming from the south. “Joseph—you took Joseph out of the pit, didn't you?”

Dan spoke for the others. “Yes, we took him out.”

“Where is he?” Reuben cried out, looking wildly around. “What have you done with him?”

“He's gone forever,” Dan said.

“What do you mean
gone
?” Reuben demanded. He looked from face to face and saw a stubbornness, lips tightly sealed and eyes half closed against his gaze. “What have you done with my brother?” he cried out. “Judah, where is he?”

“We didn't want to … kill him,” Judah said in a halting fashion, “so we … sold him to a group of Midianite traders.”

“You sold our brother into slavery?” Anguish was in Reuben's voice, and he began to tremble.

“We thought it all out,” Levi said loudly. “We put blood on that colored coat of his, and we had a man take it back to Father. He'll identify it and think an animal tore him.”

Reuben looked around at the faces and saw determination, cruelty, and guilt in every face. He begged them to go after the traders, but Levi said, “It's too late for that. Even if we did get him back, he would tell our father what we did. You know what would happen then.”

Reuben bowed his head and began to sob. It was strange to see such a huge man crying like an infant. He stretched out on the ground and put his face on his arms, and sobs racked his huge body. “Joseph, my brother! My little brother a slave!” he cried.

The others watched him, and then Levi said, “We must never let our father know what we have done. We will vow never to tell.”

“Yes,” Judah said, his face pale as he licked his lips. “We will all swear the oath.”

****

Jacob looked down at the remnants of a once-beautiful coat, nothing but rags now, stiff with dried blood. His hands trembled as he touched it. The two men who had brought the coat stared at him. They had been well paid to deliver the coat to Jacob, telling him they had found it and thought perhaps he could identify it.

Leah was standing behind Jacob and saw the old man begin to sway. She leaped to his side and cried out in a high-pitched voice, “Jacob, husband!”

Jacob appeared not to hear her. He pressed his face against the tattered remnant of the coat that he had presented to the son he loved most of all. “My lamb is dead,” he cried, his voice muffled as he pressed it into the tattered garment. “It is the hand of God upon me.” He thought of his dream and how he had refused to sacrifice his son, and now God had struck, and the son was gone. He suddenly stiffened, and his legs refused to hold him. Leah cried and threw her arms around him as he slumped to the ground. The two men stared, turned, and walked quickly away.

Benjamin and Bilhah came into the tent when they saw the strangers leave and stood staring speechless at the scene before them. Jacob was slumped sobbing over the bloodied coat, and Leah held him, moaning and crying, “My poor husband…. He loved him more than anything.”

Jacob lifted his head and tore his own garments, baring his thin chest and skinny arms. He began to claw at his chest with his fingernails, uttering a wild, almost inhuman, cry of grief. “My son is lost. My child!”

Benjamin was sobbing too as he watched the scene in grief and fear. “My brother,” he whispered. “Oh, my brother Joseph, gone! Killed by the wild beasts!”

The old man and the young man continued to weep, each consumed by their own sorrow, and as Leah watched, she said under her breath, “It will kill him. He cannot live without Joseph.”

The Accusation

A sudden blow to the small of Joseph's back brought fresh waves of pain surging through his body. He cried out and remained in a fetal position, throwing his hands up to protect his head. Bracing himself for another blow, he clamped his teeth together and shut his eyes tightly—but the next cry of pain came not from him but from one of his captors. Opening his eyes, he rolled over and saw the burly, sunburned Midianite wallowing on the ground, with Ahmed the slave trader standing over him.

“You spawn of the Evil One!” Ahmed raged. “Did I not tell you this one must not be harmed!” He aimed a vicious kick to the fallen man's thigh, which brought another cry of pain. “Get up—and if you lay another hand on this slave, I'll tear your tongue out by the roots! I'm tired of listening to you anyway.”

Ahmed turned to look at Joseph. The slave trader made a rather terrifying sight, with one eye white as milk, and the other black as obsidian. A scar wound down the left side of his face, drawing his mouth into a permanent sneer, and he was tall and thin as a tree.

“Get up, boy,” he said, but his voice was not rough. “Come now. You're not that badly hurt.”

Joseph scrambled to his feet and stood there trembling in the fresh morning breeze. His coat of many colors and tunic had been stripped from him, and he wore only a loincloth. He had shivered all through the night, and someone had thrown a thin blanket over him at some point. “Thank you, master,” he said. His tongue was thick, and his lips were dry, for the previous day they had been short of water.

Ahmed stared at the boy. “You look like a plucked bird,” he said. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen, master.”

“You don't look like much now, but I expect if you were cleaned up and didn't have all those bruises, you'd look like a prince.”

Joseph swallowed and nodded. “I am a prince, sir, of sorts. My father is chief of a band.”

“Oh, well, is that so? And those ruffians I bought you from are desert bandits, I suppose.”

Joseph swallowed hard and looked down at the ground. His feet were bare and torn by briars. “No, sir,” he mumbled. “They're my brothers.”

Ahmed's one good eye opened wide in surprise. “Well, a fine lot they are! They didn't tell me that. Why did they sell you?” Ahmed watched the young man but got no answer. He studied Joseph, taking in the fine bridge of his nose, the thin nostrils, the wide center of his mouth, and the smooth skin, where it wasn't skinned or battered by vicious attacks. He was a man of great discernment where slaves were concerned, and he had driven a hard bargain. “I believe I could have got you for nothing,” Ahmed said. “They were anxious to get rid of you.” He waited for Joseph to speak, but again Joseph remained silent. “Come, boy, talk!”

“They … don't care for me.”

“From the looks of those bruises I'd agree. The one I talked to, the shifty-looking one … What's his name—Dan? Yes, that's it. He said you were a scholar.”

“Among my own people I passed for one, sire.”

“You are able to calculate figures?”

“Yes, I can do that, sir.”

“You can measure distances accurately?”

“Yes, I can do that too.”

“What about languages?”

“I speak some Babylonian and Egyptian.”

“Egyptian! How did you learn that?” Ahmed asked sharply.

“We found a lost man some years ago who knew the Egyptian language, and we took him in. My father said he was probably a criminal. Perhaps he was, but he was very intelligent.”

Ahmed suddenly laughed. “Not all criminals are stupid. So you learned the Egyptian tongue from him.”

“Yes—and about the stars. He was very learned, it turned out, and he taught me many things. Including how to write by several different methods.”

Ahmed stroked his beard carefully and studied the boy. “You understand that in my business there's no room for mercy.”

Joseph looked up and met the single eye of Ahmed. “I don't expect any, sir. If I couldn't get it from my own brothers, why should I expect it from anyone else?”

Ahmed laughed shortly. “A wise answer. However, your education will not be wasted. I have a potential buyer for you who will treat you well.” He waited for Joseph to ask questions, but when the young man remained silent, he said, “Don't you care?”

“No, sire. I don't care.”

There was such hopelessness in Joseph's voice that, despite his business and innate hardness, the slave trader felt a tiny surge of pity. “What's your name, boy?”

“Joseph.”

“Well, Joseph, we'll have to dress you out a little better than what you've got there, and I have some ointments that may take some of the bruises out. The cuts will take a while to heal. Come along. You are a valuable property. I'll take care of you very well, you may be sure!”

****

Though he was a hard man, Ahmed viewed Joseph as extremely valuable property and would not allow any of his men to abuse him. He was also gifted in the art of healing, and by the time his caravan reached the borders of Egypt, Joseph was at least free from his aching bones, and the large purplish bruises had mostly disappeared. The cuts and gashes were also healing, but he would be left with some nasty-looking scars.

The scars on his body, however, were nothing compared to the deep inner pain he suffered. As he trudged southward day after day, his past haunted him, causing such pain and sorrow he could not endure it. He had many times in his life purposed in his heart to be a better son and brother, but such promises, even to himself, had always been short-lived. He wished he could turn back time and fulfill those promises now, but it was too late. He could not escape God's judgment and now had to endure a fiery trial in which his very soul, it seemed, would be consumed.

At times Joseph tried to excuse his behavior as the natural result of his father's having spoiled him from before he could walk. As a child he accepted all the gifts he received as his right, and he took it for granted that he would be allowed his own way and deserved the special privileges afforded him that his brothers never received.

Often at night, lying awake when his captors and the other slaves were asleep, he now wondered why he had never seen himself as he really was, but he never arrived at an answer. Examining his life was now a painful thing to Joseph, and he had no hope whatsoever for the future, no hope for an escape from a lifetime of slavery. His heart was heavier than the sands of the desert as he trudged deeper into a foreign land, each step taking him farther and farther from all he had known and loved.

Despite the pitiful state into which he had sunk, a change began in his spirit he could not account for. All of his life Joseph had believed that God had a special purpose for him, but he had never pursued a deeper relationship with the only One who could direct him toward that purpose. It had been too easy listening to his own voice and pursuing his own heedless ways. Now, however, since all this was lost to him, he could put his active imagination and keen analytical mind to work.

God can do all things,
he thought as he trudged along beside a tall, motley-colored camel.
He knows where every person in this world is and what they're doing. He knew when I was born, what I would be, and what I would do. I can look back and see what I've been, but only the Lord knows what's in the future. It must be that something awaits me besides being a slave
.

Such thinking led to genuine repentance, and a tiny flame of faith began to grow in Joseph as they made their way deeper into Egypt. When they reached Thebes, the sight of the magnificent buildings and the busy commerce of the large thoroughfares captured his full attention. He was able to think of the here and now, and somehow the future did not seem as dark and miserable as it had when he had begun this journey.

****

“There's Potiphar's house. That's where you will be living if I can make a sale,” Ahmed said, pointing with his whip toward a fine home that rose several stories. Its polished white-stone facade glowed in the afternoon sunlight, and it was delightfully surrounded by flowers and trees, giving the house a cool, inviting appearance.

“Your master's name will be Potiphar. He's a very important man. A shrewd dealer too. It will be quite a struggle between us to settle this deal. He will want you for nothing, but I will not accept less than what you're worth. We will try to get each other so drunk that one of us can cheat the other!” Ahmed said with a hearty laugh. Then with a crafty wink at Joseph, he went on, “Ah, but I can hold my liquor better than Master Potiphar. Come along, now.”

The caravan had been left behind at the entrance to the city, and Ahmed led Joseph up to the gated entrance of the house. They were met by an extremely fat man with eyes that almost disappeared into the folds of his face. His mouth was enormous and had a fishlike appearance. He was a pasty color but wore an expensive garment and gold rings in his ears.

“It's you, Ahmed. What have you got for us this time?”

“The bargain of a lifetime, Ufa.”

“They always are. We don't need any more slaves.”

Ahmed grinned wickedly, his twisted face looking even more sinister. “Oh, I didn't know you had taken over Potiphar's business dealings. I assume you make all the decisions now?”

Ufa cursed and turned away. “I'll see if he'll even want to admit you.”

“Surly fellow. Mean-spirited. Mistreats the slaves. Probably will mistreat you, but don't ever react, Joseph, no matter what they do to you. Don't ever strike back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sire, I understand.”

“They'll whip you if you do, and if that doesn't do the trick, they'll throw you to the crocodiles!”