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Waiting
"Hey, did you hear the prince killed one of the overseers?"
"What?" The slave’s whisper sounds like an explosion, and the volume makes him jump, but his fumbling hands remain grasped around the pile of sandy bricks. He looks around, his eyes shifting left to right, feeling the eyes of the slave masters burn into his bare skin with the rays of the sun.
Looking straight ahead, focusing on the weight in his arms and the hot sand under his steps, he lowers his voice to a hiss. "What are you talking about?"
"Pharaoh’s son -- he killed one of the guards who was whipping a slave. Just buried him and ran away. My cousin’s husband’s friend saw it."
The sun reflecting off the white sand sends spots of light to shimmer across his eyes, while sweat slicks his skin. Biting into his toughened brown arms, the bricks grow heavier.
"My cousin says he’s a Hebrew. He’s going to redeem us."
***
The door slams open and Miriam rushes in, her hands shaking with her uneven breathing. Her words halt as she catches her breath. "Aaron, I heard something down by the river today." She collapses onto a pile of hay to massage her feet, sand falling from her frayed curls.
He watches his older sister -- the excited twitching of her left eye, her hands that tremble as she picks the sand from under her fingernails. "About Moses?" Miriam nods as she stretches to crack her back. He says, "I heard the same thing in the brickyard."
Sighing, she lies back on the hay. "What are we going to do?"
Aaron stands up, his voice quiet but insistent as he paces the room. "Nothing -- are you crazy? It’s all just gossip now, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m not going to make people believe our savior is on the way if he’s not going to turn out to be one."
"But Aaron." Her words waver as her eyes grow wet. "God saved him -- for us."
Aaron slams his hand on the table. As he speaks, his arms gesture wildly, pointing to invisible people in the air while his voice grows urgent and angry. "Yes, God saved him, but just to make him exactly like Pharaoh’s other proud and obnoxious son. Now he’s gone and murdered someone and run away like a coward. Face it, Miriam, you, me, our children, and their children -- we’re all going to die slaves."
The tears leave clean streaks through the dirt on Miriam’s face. "How can you lose your faith so easily?"
Walking over to hug his sister, he says, "How can you not?"
***
In her dreams, Miriam dances on the shore of a sea wrenched in two. With tambourine in her hand, her prophetic words lilt to a hidden melody, like the songs Eve must have sung at the beginning of time. Nearby, her baby brother stands with arms outstretched, echoing her words.
When she wakes, tears spilling from her closed eyes, she knows, despite Aaron’s warning, Moses will return.
***
Whispers sneak around below the gazes of the slave masters.
"Did you hear Pharaoh’s son was a Hebrew?"
"You know he killed an Egyptian, right?"
"I hear he’s in Canaan gathering an army."
"I wonder what’s taking him so long."
***
The slave masters report the whisperings to Pharaoh, who raises the quota of bricks the Hebrews must make every day. Under the searing sun, even their sweat burns, and the high quota, combined with extra-long, exhausting days, silences the gossip.
***
"I told you, Miriam, he’s not coming."
© 2000 Ann Lesley Hamvas
