Only two days remained until I was to meet Sheerah at the market. Every plan I devised I promptly discarded. Mama seemed to suspect something for she was keeping a wary eye on my movements. Finally in desperation, I decided to risk everything by seeking an audience with Aunt Rachel. Her comments the night following the feast had led me to believe that she might be in sympathy with my plans. For Mama's benefit, Judith arranged for my meeting with her to appear initiated by Aunt Rachel.

Entering her tent, I thanked her profusely while piling on as much flattery as I dared. As I enthused over her tent furnishings, she laughed lightly interjecting, "Dinah, I know you didn't come here just to tell me how much you like my tent. Why don't you tell me your real purpose."

Looking at my feet, I blurted, "I need your help. Mama can be so prudish, but you seem to have more spunk." I sneaked a quick look to see what effect my speech was having, but her face remained totally noncommittal. I continued, "The day I drew water for all of the tents, I met a village girl. She wants me to meet her at the market the day after tomorrow. Aunt Rachel, I need a friend my own age. I need to find out how the rest of the world lives. I know meeting her won't contaminate me. After all, your family worshiped idols and you haven't ruined me. Please won't you help me?"

I looked into Aunt Rachel's compassionate eyes as she said, "What do you think I can do? Your mother would not listen to any plea from me. She and I do not agree when it comes to you."

"I know," I interposed. "If you could just think of some reason why you and Judith might need my services that morning, I could slip out the back of your tent for my meeting. I would be back before Mama expected my return."

"I don't know." she said hesitantly.

"Oh, please, Aunt Rachel I will do anything if you'll just help."

"All right," she relented. "But your mother is never to know. Is that understood?"

"Oh yes! Thank you so much," I cried, jumping up to give her a hug. Seeming a bit disconcerted by the emotional display, she pointed out that we had yet to think of a detailed plan. We finally decided that Aunt Rachel would suggest that Judith and I be sent to the pool during the morning to wash clothes. She would point out to Mama that we would be unlikely to meet any villagers at that time. I would go with Judith towards the pool and then slip away to the city. I was to return to the pool before midday and accompany Judith back to the camp.

Before leaving, I ventured to ask Aunt Rachel a question that had been plaguing me. "Do you believe that Yahweh is as powerful as Papa says? Sometimes I'm not so sure."

Looking around carefully to make sure there was no one watching, she replied, "Come here; I have something to show you."

Lifting the cover of the camel saddle that served as a stool, she revealed her teraphim. This was a collection of family idols that were passed from generation to generation. I remembered the day Grandpa Laban had stopped us to search for the gods.

Staring at her with round eyes, I said in awe, "You've had them the whole time!"

"Yes," she replied, "And no one knows but you. I keep them as insurance. If Yahweh fails us, we will have another option. I will request that these gods guide your way when you go to meet your friend."

The next day dawned clear and hot, but by mid‑morning clouds had begun to gather.

At noon rain began to fall, confining us to our tents. Everyone was rejoicing not only because of the much needed moisture, but because the unseasonal torrent would demonstrate to the city the power of Yahweh. The rain, though, preyed on my already taut nerves. Misinterpreting my pacing, Mama finally said, "Dinah, adult dignity is not necessary. Why don't you go out with the children who are frolicking in the rain? If it will soothe your pride, I will require you to keep an eye on them." Flashing her a quick smile, I hurried out glad for the diversion.

The rain continued for hours, but had ended before the evening meal. Enough precipitation had occurred to ensure sufficient grass to support all of the flocks and herds. It also would give new life to the grain crops and vineyards of the Shechemites. It accomplished one other thing; now there were twice as many clothes in need of a scrubbing. I fancied that the rain indicated Yahweh's approved of my plan. If He hadn't, He would not have made so many dirty clothes possible. I realized Papa's prayer and the glorification of Yahweh were the primary reasons for the rain. Still, I was convinced He would have waited to send the rain if I hadn't needed an excuse to get away from Mama's prying eyes. Assured of God's favor, I slept easily despite my excitement.

In the morning I watched surreptitiously for Judith while I carried out my chores. Earlier than I expected, she arrived with Aunt Rachel's request. To my relief Mama readily agreed, calling me to come and collect the soiled garments. Putting the clothes in the wicker basket and carrying the club used to beat the laundry, I joined Judith and headed for the pool. Elated over the successful beginning of the plan, I sang and joked with Judith until we were out of sight of the camp. Feeling guilty that she would have extra work while I idled, I offered to help for a while before going to town. From the position of the sun, I realized we were early. Judith merely pushed me toward Shechem saying, "Go on, Dinah. In your mood you would be more trouble than help. Just remember everything you see so you can describe it later in detail."

Promising to do it, I knelt on the bank of the pool critically viewing my reflection. Then loosening my sash, I removed the small vials of eye paint and perfume I had hidden there. When I began to carefully apply the paint, Judith said, "Do you think that's a good idea? Your friend might think you're a priestess — the kind who welcome men to the temples."

Laughing at her naivete, I responded, "You sound like Mama. I've been watching the women at the well; most of them wear it. Besides, I'm not going to wear much." Standing and dabbing perfume on my wrists and neck, I turned asking for Judith's approval. When she reluctantly admitted it was becoming, I hugged her telling her to keep my treasures until I returned. Excited by the prospect of adventure, I headed for Shechem.

I stayed under the trees for as long as possible, keeping my eyes on the camp. Stealthily creeping along in the shade of the town wall, I noted no one in the camp perusing the town. Passing through the town gates undetected, I felt as though a burden had been released from my shoulders. I easily found my way along the twisting street to the marketplace. I wandered through the stalls feasting my eyes on the intricate jewelry, patterned rugs, silk scarves and beautiful cloth being displayed, but barely glanced at the luscious fruits and crisp vegetables. Growing uneasy under the curious stares of the villagers, I loitered beside the booth where I had arranged to meet Sheerah.

Looking at the position of the sun, I was sure that it was almost time for our rendezvous. Intent on my calculations, I had not noticed the approach of a young slave girl. When she tapped me on the shoulder, I jumped in surprise. Explaining haltingly that Sheerah had been unable to come, she suggested that I follow her to the palace. Nervous about the change in plans, but unwilling to turn back, I followed the girl through the stalls, past the small one-room homes of the impoverished and into an area crowded with larger dwellings. Noting the large wooden doors in the stone courtyard walls, I wondered what luxuries were hidden behind. Finally the girl stopped in front of a door and knocked twice. The doorman viewed me curiously, but waved us through without any questions.

I found myself in a large courtyard planted with luscious green trees and beautiful flowering plants. In the center was a small fountain. As I watched the water trickle down the tiered stones, I wondered at the wasteful display when crops were failing and animals dying of thirst. This fleeting thought was replaced by awe as I noted the number of rooms opening onto the courtyard. I realized that every family member must have their own sleeping room. Such luxury was unheard of even in Grandpa Laban's home. The slave girl paused before a door, entered without knocking and left me explaining that the mistress would join me shortly.

I looked around the room in confusion. It was not at all as I had pictured Sheerah's room. Instead of bright, loud‑colored curtains, the walls were covered with expensive hangings in subdued shades. I stooped to feel the opulent furs thrown carelessly over the tiled floors. Raising the edge of a rug, I examined the first man-made floor I had ever seen. Advancing to inspect the couch along the far wall, I was puzzled by the overall austerity of the room. Having never before entered a princess's room, I had expected something more glamorous. Standing before a niche in the corner of the wall, I scrutinized the carved idols reposing there. Hearing the door open, I turned with an expectant smile to welcome Sheerah. "I was a little scared," I began but halted in mid‑sentence. Standing before me was Shem, not Sheerah.

Closing the door softly, he slid home a latch I had not even noticed before. It was not until that moment as I stood staring in disbelief that I realized the difference between this room and the others I had seen along the courtyard: the shutters were closed. Like a cornered animal, I looked about wildly for another exit. Shem finally broke the heavy silence. "Don't look so scared, Dinah. I don't plan to harm you. I just had to see you alone." Noting the question in my eyes, he continued, "I got Sheerah to tell me of your plans. I sent one servant to delay Mama with a message and another to fetch you. She was told to leave you with the impression that you were coming to meet Sheerah. I knew you would not come if you knew the truth. Sheerah will simply think you were unable to slip away."

My natural character finally reasserted itself. Emboldened by an anger fueled by fear, I lashed out, "How dare you bring me here under false pretenses. If you do not open that door immediately, you will suffer the wrath of my father and brothers. Release me. Now!"

Laughing softly at my hysteria, he countered, "The mild mannered doe turns into a tigress does she. Be rational. We both know that you will not jeopardize your reputation by telling your father of this liaison. Calm down and enjoy yourself. There is no reason for dramatics."

"No reason for dramatics," I sputtered. "You are like all males, so full of your self‑importance that you have no consideration for others. How could I have ever thought you were different," I continued unwittingly revealing that I hadn't been totally indifferent to him. "Sheerah was right. Your only interest in me is as an ornament."

Smiling into my eyes, he responded, "Let me show you that you're wrong. I only want to know you and let you get to know me. Sit down and remove your veil." Anticipating my refusal, he stated, "You might as well. Your reputation has already been ruined. Besides," he reminded, "I've already seen your face. Remember the practice clearing in the trees. Even in the shadows I could tell you have a beautiful face. And your hair ­­-- I have never seen anything so beautiful. It is like molten copper cascading over your shoulders, a fitting crown for such an exquisite face. Let me examine it up close." Approaching cautiously he reached out and slowly removed my veil. For the first time in my life, I felt totally naked without it.

Moving his hand slowly down my cheek, his fingers stopped under my chin. Lifting my face until my eyes met his, he said, "That's much better. I have always thought that veils are dehumanizing. Men are only allowed to explore woman's minds through their eyes. Yours have captivated me since I first saw you. They are such an unusual color, and they speak without you even uttering a word. Tell me what you thought when you saw me at the well. Weren't you at least a little intrigued?"

Sitting on the couch, he pulled me down beside him. Under his gentle probing, I slowly began to talk. We must have spent an hour or more discussing our interests, our families and our hopes. I was, gradually lulled into a feeling of security, forgetting that my current position would completely destroy my reputation and falsely believing his masculine desires would be satisfied by conversation. Thus I was totally unprepared when he slipped his arm around my shoulders while dropping the other hand to loosen my girdle. Standing abruptly, I dashed for the door only to find Shem blocking the exit.

I demanded, "Shem, return my girdle and allow me to leave." Changing to the wheedling tone that worked with Grandpa, I said, "There is no reason that we can't remain friends. If I leave now, I can still return to camp without anyone being aware of how I spent the morning. Please, I beg of you, spare me." With this I dropped to my knees and clung to the hem of Shem's robe.

Disengaging himself, he raised me somewhat roughly to my feet. "You make a better tigress than a beggar. Your theatrics will not alter my intent. If you leave now, my family will see you. They will be returning from the market soon. I have spent time wooing you because I like you. I want you to come to my bed willingly. If you will not, I will take you forceably. Be reasonable. Surely you did not paint yourself just to impress my sister."

When I opened my mouth to respond, he raised his hand commandingly and said, "Wait, let me finish. You have nothing to hide from me and no reason to resist. You see, the night you went to bathe at the Shechem pool you were not alone." Correctly reading the horror in my eyes, he pressed his point, "I was in the trees stalking the lion. Instead I was entertained by a bathing beauty. Even in the dim moonlight, the outline of your body was clear as your tunic clung to your frame. When you stood momentarily naked, I knew that we were destined to become one."

Totally defeated by his words, I allowed him to lead me to the couch. I stood unresisting as he removed my dress and tunic lifting me easily and placing me on the couch. My mind fogged by shock, I endured the next minutes without fully comprehending everything that was happening.

Afterwards as Shem lay spent beside me, I felt hot tears slowly trickling down my cheeks. Raising himself to his elbow, he said softly, "Please, don't cry." Kissing the tears on my face, he continued. "I know you may not believe me, but I love you. Look into my eyes, expressions do not lie." When I looked into his eyes, I was surprised to recognize the look Papa had when watching Aunt Rachel. The tenderness I saw changed to pain as he persisted, "I know I hurt you, but you must understand that it was necessary. Neither of our parents would consider a marriage under any other circumstance. You told Sheerah that you are forbidden to talk to us. How do you think your father would feel about a wedding? Despite your father's apparent wealth, my father sees him as an itinerant. He had higher aspirations for the lineage of his daughter‑in‑law. So you see, this is our only hope. The only honorable thing either parent can do is arrange a quick marriage."

Shem arose from the couch and began to dress. Then he sat beside me and took both my hands while looking deeply into my eyes. "You do believe that I love you, don't you? Do I have your permission to explain the situation to our parents and request that we be allowed to marry? I will personally take all the blame; no shame will be brought to your name." Smiling tiredly at Shem, I responded in the affirmative. He leaned down and kissed me tenderly, saying, "Stay here and rest. I will send someone with water so you can cleanse yourself. I will return as soon as I am able." I watched as he exited and then turned to the wall, pulling his robe close. Exhausted by the ordeal, I drifted into a fitfull sleep.