Immaculate

Her lamp shone against the black as she crept soundlessly down the corridor. She heard the old woman cough and quickened her pace. The lamp fluttered madly in her hands.

“It won’t be much longer now,” she thought “I wonder what will happen to us when she is gone?’

“Maryam," a shrill voice whispered, “Hurry, she is fading fast!”

Maryam sprinted the last few steps into her jeddah's room. She surveyed the scene in front of her.

“She's so frail and weak, but she commands this entire household… how?”

“Maryam, the pitcher, now”, her mother insisted.

Maryam hoisted the pitcher and carried the moist earthenware vessel to the pallet. The old woman who lay there was fighting for breath. Maryam surveyed her feeble form while her mother prepared the tonic. Papery skin stretched over wide eyes. Eyes that were once renowned for their clarity and beauty had become vacant and rheumy.

Her figure was once short and wide-boned, but her robust flesh had melted away so that her bones jutted through alabaster skin. Maryam’s jeddah, who had once been the picture of health, now looked like an underfed calf.

The old woman coughed and sputtered as she drank the tonic. She could barely swallow the medicine but she stilled ruled the family’s entire fate.

"Come here child," she rasped at Maryam, "let me see you. You are getting to be a woman. Soon you will take a husband."

Maryam's eyes watered at the thought of leaving her family for a man. She wanted to stay here with her mother and father.

"Yes, jeddah," Maryam replied.

“Go, let me speak with your mother”, the old woman croaked to Maryam.

Maryam stepped from the room and shut the door quietly behind her, however she stayed pressed to the wall, trying to listen.

"With the Romans in the land, you must be very careful not to let any of your sons offend them." Her grandmother said to her mother. "They bristle with weapons and would not lightly suffer a foolish child like yours. You must run your household with a firm hand when I am gone“

"Mother, I will trust Alaha to give me strength and do his will in our household. I do not worry about the Roman invaders, He will drive them from our land." Her mother responded.

"You are far too dismissive of the threat," her grandmother continued. "There is another matter, Barirah, your daughter is in great danger. She possesses beauty but is very naïve. She has your faith but I am afraid that it will not be enough to protect her when I am gone.”

“You are imagining things. There is no one in this village that would harm Maryam, everyone here loves her.” her mother protested

“Barirah, the threat is real, you must listen to me. I will not have my son’s house and my granddaughter’s reputation sullied because you believe that Alaha will watch over her. You must protect her from this threat!”

“Maryam,” a voice called behind her “You silly girl, are you listening at doors? I should tell your mother of your poor manners.”

She turned to see her Uncle Ghazi, the very threat that she was certain her grandmother warned against.

“I was just listening to make sure that grandmother didn’t start coughing again,“ Maryam lied.

“The lie is plain on your face, child. What were they discussing that held your interest so?" he stared at her. "Whatever it may be you must go now, it is very late and you have already said your goodbyes.”

“Yes, amo” Maryam consented. She turned to go.

“Maryam?”

“Yes, amo?”

“Sweet dreams”

Maryam shuddered and crept down the hall. She climbed into her bed and drew the covers over her body. Despite the heat of the evening and the bedcovers, she felt chills roll from her head to her feet.

#

" Inna lillaha wa inna ilayhi rajiun!"

Maryam's mother's wail of grief spurned the quiet house into wakefulness. Maryam sat up on her pallet with a start. Tears overcame her as she realized her mother's cry was because her grandmother was gone.

"Jeddah, we are lost without you," Maryam cried. She sat on the uncomfortable pallet and let the hot salt scour her sorrows. After a few minutes of private mourning, she went to her mother. She knew she would find her in grandmother's room.

"Ummi, I am here, " Maryam ran to her mother.

From her mother's arms, Maryam stared at what used to be her grandmother. The old woman who had labored for breath last night lay on the pallet. Her mouth hung open and her eyes stared at nothing. Maryam shook with tears and clung to her mother. She felt as if her one ally had abandoned her. She knew she was alone and she would have to be strong enough for her family. She pulled from her mother's arms and began to prepare herself mentally for the funeral.

Maryam counted the days. "It is far enough from the Sabbath that she can be buried today," she thought. Her eyes scanned the face looking for blood that her grandmother might have coughed.

"Good, she is clean. Mother and I will wash the body before sunset and she will be buried this evening." her thoughts spun with all that needed to be done before the night.

Maryam walked from the room where her mother continued wailing. She needed to get the house in order. Her relatives would be arriving and she had lots to do. She squared her shoulders, pushed her grief down into a knot at the base of her belly, and began her preparations.

#

Maryam stood by the grave and listened to the rabboni bless the soul of her grandmother. She picked at the torn shift she wore in her mourning, and let her mind wander.

"What will happen, now?" she thought, "Ummi is far too trusting in Alaha, she does not see earthly danger, only the spiritual."

Maryam looked up at her mother's puffy tear-stained face. She sniffed and sobbed, clinging to her brother for support. Maryam's eyes traveled to her uncle. He saw her and smiled. Maryam shivered and looked back at the grave.

#

She stared into the water below her, focusing on the reflection that floated there. She critically eyed her body, with it's new swell of hips and breasts.

"I do not want to be a woman," Maryam thought to herself. "I want to stay here with my mother. Ya'qub is a Roman-loving dog, a craftsman who depends on the invaders to teach him a skill. Why must I marry this man?"

"Maryam," a voice interrupted her reverie.

She turned to see her uncle staring at her. Her shift had slipped from her shoulder and he eyed the flesh there. She immediately pulled the rough fabric over her skin.

"Yes, Uncle Ghazi?" Maryam asked.

"Your mother sent me to find you," he continued, leering at her. "She needs your help preparing for the betrothal ceremony."

"Of course, amo," she replied. She turned away from the shore and started to walk towards the village. Her uncle grabbed her arm as she stepped by him.

"There is no hurry, child." He smiled. "You look quite lovely today. Are you excited about your betrothal?"

"Yes, amo, " she answered with bowed head.

"You are lucky in this husband. He is skilled and works very hard." he lifted her chin and smiled at her.

"Yes, amo."

"Child, what is the matter?" he asked as she pulled away from him.

"I must go. Mother expects me."

"Your mother is very busy. She will not miss you. Let me look at you. Ah, you are growing into a fine woman."

"Thank you, amo."

"Why are you so anxious to run back to the house? I just want to talk a little," he said as he pulled her closer to him.

"I am quite busy," she whimpered.

"You were not busy when you stood staring at your reflection in the water. Do not lie to me. I just want to look at you too." He nearly shouted the words and with them wretched her shift from her shoulder.

The rough material tore and nearly bore her chest. She grabbed at the fragments, but he snatched her hands away. He leered at her body with jackal's eyes.

"I just want a little taste. That stupid boy you are marrying will never know the difference," he growled.

"No, no, no, no, no," she begged until she lay bloody and used.

#

Maryam walked from the well carrying a heavy bucket full of water. Her eyes surveyed the tangled path ahead of her, wary of snags to pull at her clothes. She stopped and set the heavy bucket down.

Suddenly, she bent forward and vomited. Her lungs felt as if they had collapsed and her stomach soured as she retched again. She coughed, drew a drink, and wiped her mouth on her hem.

Maryam had been sick every morning for two weeks now. She heard her mother talking about a neighbor's pregnancy and knew that this was a sign. She struggled with what to do about it. Her mind tripped over the possibilities.

"I must tell mother, she'll know what to do," she thought and started towards the house again.

"Mother," Maryam called as she entered the house, "mother, I need to speak with you.

"Yes, Maryam, what is it?" her mother answered as she walked into the sun-warmed kitchen.

"I … I think that I am pregnant." Maryam confessed.

"Maryam, that's impossible; to be pregnant you have to know your husband." Her mother laughed. "You haven't been with any man."

"Ummi, I have. Uncle Ghazi made me. He hurt me and told me not to tell anyone or he would do it again." She rushed the words from her mouth.

"Maryam! Do not say such things. That is impossible. My brother is a good man with a fine wife. He would not do something so… sickening."

"Ummi, please believe me. I am sick every morning and I have not bled," she cried.

"Maryam," her mother gasped, "Your cousin Elisheba has just left with miraculous news. Her womb has been blessed with a son. She said that an angel came to her and said that another child would soon be born. A child of Alaha, who would be fathered by no man. If you are pregnant, then your child is surely the child she spoke of."

Maryam's mother's eyes shone with pride, for she knew that an angel had spoken and she would be grandmother to this child of Alaha.

"No, mother, listen, it was Ghazi. I swear, he took me and made me. I couldn't stop him. This child has a father, your brother," Maryam insisted.

Her mother stared at her with eyes wide. Her mouth opened to speak, but instead she slapped Maryam across the face.

"Hush child, you are not yourself. These are lies you have created because you are scared. But there is no need to be. You are blessed."

"No, Ummi. You don't understand…"

#

Maryam yawned and wiped the dust from her face. She stopped her long strides and pulled a rock from her sandal.

"Maryam? Is everything alright?" Ya'qub asked her nervously.

"Yes, I'm fine." she answered.

She wished she could be home, with her mother, asleep in her bed and trudging to some far off city for a census. The Romans made the most ridiculous demands on her people. She put her hand over her swollen stomach and grimaced.

Why could this not have waited until after I had birthed?" she thought.

"Maryam, there it is! That is my birthplace, the city of Beit Lechem," Ya'qub cried.

Maryam walked to steep cliff that over looked the city and stared down at it. It was not a city, merely a larger town. She was not impressed by the dusty little place below her.

She raised her eyes to the night sky. Sitting in the sky above the town she spotted a bright star. She smiled at its beauty and lowered her eyes. She followed Ya'qub down the path and into the little town.