My uncle Cleopas was crying; so was James. So were all the men.
"And what did the great Roman Governor do in the face of this spectacle?" cried Jason. "At the undeniable sight of so many ready to give their lives for the protection of our most sacred laws, the man rose to his feet and ordered his soldiers to put away the weapons they held at our throats, the blades flashing in the sun everywhere before him. 'They shall not die!' he declared. 'Not for piety! I will not shed their blood, not one drop! Give the signal. The soldiers are to remove our ensigns from within the walls of their sacred city!' "
Cries of thanksgiving filled the air. Prayers and acclamation. People went down on their knees in the grass. The noise was so great that nothing further could have possibly been heard from Jason or Reuben or anyone for that matter.
Fists were in the air, people were dancing again, and the women were sobbing now, as if only now could they sink down onto the grass and let their full fear flow from their hearts and into the arms of one another.
The Rabbi who stood near the summit beside Jason bowed his head and began the prayers, but we couldn't hear him. People began to sing psalms of thanksgiving. Bits of melody and prayer floated and mingled all around us.
Little Mary sobbed against the breast of my uncle Cleopas, her father-in-law, and James held his wife, kissing her forehead silently as the tears came down his face. I hugged Little Isaac to me and Yaqim and all of Avigail's children, who were with us now, even as I knew it meant that Silent Hannah and Avigail had not come to this crowd, no, not even for this.
We were all kissing one another. Wineskins were passed. People had broken into long discourses on how this had seemed or that had been, and Jason and Reuben struggled through the press, besieged for the greater details, though both men now appeared completely spent and ready to collapse if given the opportunity.
Joseph clasped my hand and James' hand. Our brothers and their wives made a circle, and the little children stood in our midst. My mother had her arms around my shoulders and her head against my back.
" 'Sacrifice and offerings You do not desire, O Lord,' " said Joseph, " 'but ears open to obedience You've given us. Burnt offerings You did not demand. So I said, "Here I am; Your commands for me are written in the scroll. To do Your will is my life; my Lord, Your law is in my heart. I announced Your deeds to a great assembly. . . ." ' "
It took us a long time to make our way home.
The street was choked with revelers, and it was plain as well that other men were arriving, others who'd hired mounts for the hard ride, and we could hear the sharp unmistakable cries of those who were being reunited.
Suddenly Jason, bright faced and smelling of wine, caught up with us, his hand over James' shoulder.
"Your boys are well, they're well indeed and stood straight and strong with us, both of them, Menachim and Shabi, and I tell you all of the men of your house stood firm. Silas, and Levi, of course, I expected it, who didn't, but little Shabi I tell you, and Young Cleopas, and every man - ." And on he went, kissing James and then my uncles, and kissing the hands that Joseph lifted in blessing.
We'd reached the gate to the courtyard when Reuben of Cana caught up with us, and he tried to take his leave of Jason now, but Jason protested. They passed the wineskin between them and offered it to us. I waved it away.
"Why are you not happy!" Jason demanded of me.
"We are happy, all of us are happy," I said. "Reuben, it's been many years. Come inside, refresh yourself."
"No, he's coming home with me," said Jason. "My uncle wouldn't hear of it if he didn't lodge with us. Reuben, what's the matter with you, you can't ride out for Cana now."
"But I must do that, Jason, and you know I must," Reuben said. He looked to us as he took his leave, nodding to us. "My grandfather hasn't seen me in two years," he said. Joseph answered Reuben's nod with his own. All the older men nodded.
Jason shrugged. "Don't come to me tomorrow," said Jason, "and tell me the sad story of how you woke up and found yourself - in the great city of Cana!"
All the young men around them broke into laughter.
Reuben seemed to melt away in the shadows, amid the happy voices, and the crush of those who wanted to clap Jason and clasp his hand, and all those struggling to come and go.
Finally, having taken our leave fifty times over, we did go into the house.
Old Bruria had gone before us and lighted the coals, and the aroma of the hot pottage was strong and inviting.
As I helped Joseph to take his place against the wall, I saw Silent Hannah.
Amid all the comings and goings, she stood stock-still, staring only at me, as if no one else brushed past her.
She looked weary and old, positively old - like an ancient one, so thin and so stooped and making fists of her hands that held on to her veil as if it were a rope in the sea. She shook her head No. It was a slow, despairing negation.
"Did you give her the writing?" I asked. "Did she read it?"
Her face was blank. She made a gesture with her right hand, over and over, almost as if she were scratching at the air.
My mother said, "She gave the letter to Avigail. She doesn't know if Avigail read it."
"Go now to his house," said Old Bruria. "You, Cleopas, go! Go and take your daughter-in-law with you. Go now and bang on his door. Tell him you've come to give him this news."