Th e S i l e n t Y e a r s

JUDAHS
IFE
A Novel of the Maccabees

ANGELA HUNT

5
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on-

2018 by Angela Hunt Communications, Inc.

Published by Bethany House Publishers

11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com

Bethany House Publishers is a division of

Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, pho-
tocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only
exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Hunt, Angela Elwell, author.
Title: Judahs wife : a novel of the Maccabees / Angela Hunt.
Description: Minneapolis, Minnesota : Bethany House, a division of Baker
Publishing Group, [2018] | Series: The silent years
Identifiers: LCCN 2017036156| ISBN 9780764219337 (trade paper) | ISBN
9780764231476 (hard cover)
Subjects: | GSAFD: Christian fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3558.U46747 J83 2018 | DDC 813/.54dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017036156

Scripture quotations are from the Holy Scriptures, Tree of Life Version, Copyright (c)
2011, 2012, 2013, 2015 by the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society. Used by permission
of the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society. TLV and Tree of Life Version and
Tree of Life Holy Scriptures are trademarks registered in the United States Patent
and Trademark office by the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society.

This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures

are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the authors
imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Cover design by LOOK Design Studio

Cover photography by Aimee Christenson

Author is represented by Browne & Miller Literary Associates.

181920212223247654321

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 In the Christian Bible, one turns the page after Malachi and finds
Matthew as if only a few days fell between the activities of the
prophet and the arrival of Jesus Christ. In reality, however, four
hundred so-called silent years lie between the Old Testament
and New, a time when God did not speak to Israel through His
prophets. Yet despite the prophets silence, God continued to
work in His people, other nations, and the supernatural realm.
He led Israel through a time of testing that developed a sense
of hope and a yearning for the promised Messiah.
He brought the four nations prophesied in Daniels vision
to international prominence: the Babylonians, the Persians, the
Greeks, and the Romans. These powerful kingdoms spread their
cultures throughout civilization and united the world by means
of paved highways and international sailing routes.
God also prepared to fulfill His promise to the serpent in
Eden: I will put animosity between you and the woman, and
between your descendant and her descendant; he will bruise
your head, and you will bruise his heel (Gen. 3:15).
For God never sleeps, and though He may not communicate
as we expect Him to, He can always speak to a receptive heart.

_Hunt_JudahsWife_LH_jck.indd 5 9/14/17 11:58 AM

 Maked
Chorazin
Acco/Ptolemais
Capernaum Casphor
Sea Raphana Bosor
of
Galilee Dathema
Hippos
Sepphoris
Gath-Hepher k R.
r mu
Nazareth Ya

Gadara

K
Shunem

is
ho
Megiddo

n
Ephron

R
Jezreel

.
Caesarea Maritima Beth-Shan/Scythopolis
Pella
Dothan
a
S e

Jordan R.
Samaria
an
ne

Shechem J abb ok R.
ra

R.
on Mt. Gilead
Yark
Aphek
er

Joppa Arimathea Lebonah Alexandrium

it
ed

Gophna Jazer
Lydda Modein Beth-horon
M

Bethel

Jamnia Mizpah
Gezer Jericho
Emmaus Adasa
Ekron Jerusalem

Beth-zur Dead
Sea

Hebron
Ziph Arn
on R
.

The Maccabean Revolt

Battle
Mattathias slays Modeins emissary under Antiochus and
then flees to the mountains near Gophna
Commander Apollonius of Samaria sets out to quell the
Maccabean uprising but fails in the attempt
Judah Maccabeus, along with the insurgents, leads an
attack against Apollonius and kills him, taking the dead
warriors sword
Commander Seron of Syria, a Seleucid, organizes his army
to beat down the Maccabees and their uprising
Judah Maccabeus takes Serons army by surprise at Upper
Beth-horon
Syrian Proconsul Lysias, under the command of Nicanor,
Ptolemy, and Gorgias, leads an army to Emmaus in yet Bozrah
another attempt to crush the uprising
Gorgias takes 5,000 soldiers and 1,000 cavalry and
moves inland with orders to capture Judah
With the Syrian army divided, Judah and his men march to
Emmauss main camp
Judah and men lay siege to Jerusalem until 165 BC; the
Jews recover possession of the Temple

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 PART I

In those days Mattathias ... had five sons, Johanan surnamed

Gaddi, Simon called Thassi, Judas called Maccabaeus, Eleazar
called Avaran, and Jonathan called Apphus.
He saw the blasphemies being committed in Judah and Jeru-
salem, and said, Alas! Why was I born to see this, the ruin of
my people, the ruin of the holy city, and to dwell there when it
was given over to the enemy, the sanctuary given over to aliens?
Her temple has become like a man without honor; her glo-
rious vessels have been carried into captivity. Her babes have
been killed in her streets, her youths by the sword of the foe.
What nation has not inherited her palaces and has not seized
her spoils? All her adornment has been taken away; no longer
free, she has become a slave.
And behold, our holy place, our beauty, and our glory have
been laid waste; the Gentiles have profaned it. Why should we
live any longer?
And Mattathias and his sons rent their clothes, put on sack-
cloth, and mourned greatly.
1Maccabees 2:114

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 Chap ter One

Leah

O
168 years before the birth of Christ
f the many lessons I learned in childhood, one made
a permanent impression on my soul: God should be
feared, and so should my father.
Experience reinforced the lesson every seventh day, when
with trembling fingers my mother lit the Shabbat candles and
recited the blessing. Then she sat very still while Father broke
the bread and ate the meat, a luxury we enjoyed only on Shab-
bat. When Father had eaten his fill of the meat, vegetables,
fruit, and bread, he stood and walked away, allowing me and
Mother to share whatever remained.
Then we would go to the synagogue, or Father and I would
go, since Mother never left the house when a bruise marked her
face. I would walk behind Father through the winding alleys of
Jerusalem, careful to avoid the potholes and mounds of manure
in the street. I made a game of remaining in Fathers shadow,
for Id be in trouble if he turned and found me missing.
When we arrived at the synagogue, I would sit with the
women while Father took his place with the men. He usually

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 Judahs Wife

sat down front, and when the men prayed I could hear his voice
above the others. I would lower my head and put my fingers in
my ears because I frequently heard that same voice cursing my
mother, or declaring her fat, lazy, and stupid. Sometimes that
voice demanded to know why he had agreed to marry such a
sow, and at other times it declared her the ugliest woman in
all Judea.
My mother was not fat, ugly, or lazy, so she did not cry when
she heard such insults. But she seemed to draw inward, shrivel-
ing like a worm in the salt jar, until little remained of her but a
pair of hands and feet destined to do Fathers bidding.
While sitting in the synagogue, I would lift my gaze to the
ceiling and wonder how HaShem and my father became con-
nected. They must have been close, for Father prayed every
morning with great gusto and never missed an opportunity to
speak to the Torah teacher.
I would listen intently as the teacher spoke of how HaShem
parted the Red Sea and massacred the pursuing Egyptians
to set our ancestors free. I learned about how the Master of
the universe consulted Abraham before destroying everyone
in the sinful cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, and how He
strengthened Joshua to rid the land of Canaanites so that we,
the children of Israel, could live in the Promised Land. The
Creator of the universe, the teacher said, had a plan and pur-
pose for everyone.
HaShem sounded as if He were as strong as my father, and
every bit as angry.
I resolved never to do anything to displease my father or
HaShem. I obeyed every command and answered every call. In
Fathers presence my thoughts spun like a dancer as I tried to
guess what he would want next, find ways to keep him calm,
and think about how to prevent him from beating my mother.
I did not always succeed. When I brought him figs instead

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 A ngel a Hu n t

of bread, or when I put his slippers by the window instead of

the door, Father would notice my mistake. How could you
have borne such a worthless child? he would say, turning to
Mother. He would strike her, and Mother would gasp and slide
down the wall as I took a deep breath and stepped into the
trembling space between them. If all went well, Father would
go out, leaving us alone to ponder our offenses.
Later, when Mother found her voice and the marks faded
from red to purple, I would curl up next to her on the pallet
and whisper, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry.
She would murmur that I had nothing to be sorry for, but
her voice carried no weight and her words no meaning. If I had
been quicker, smarter, or more pleasant, I could have made
him happy.
And a happy man had no reason to fight.

Like fronds from a palm tree, the years of my childhood fell

away, one after the other. Mother and I knew our places and
clung to themshe belonged at home, while I belonged in the
market stall Father rented. There I sold my mothers cheeses
and helped keep starvation from our door.
Father, of course, belonged everywhere, for he was a man,
and men, Mother told me, were prone to wander.
One morning my friend Miriam and I were walking to the
market when a young man stepped into our path. With one
glance I knew he was dangerous. He wore a short linen tunic and
the silly hat favored by so many Hellenes, the Jewish youths who
followed the practices of the Seleucids who ruled this region.
Though this young man was old enough to sprout a beard, his
cheeks were bare, like those of the Gentiles who had infiltrated
Jerusalem. His mouth curved in a smirk when he saw us, and
his eyes snapped like a man with mischief on his mind.

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 Judahs Wife

Look here, he called to a group of similarly dressed youths

who loitered outside the gymnasium. Two pretty young things
out for a stroll. Where do you think they are going?
My stomach tightened as I glanced around. Wagons and
people crowded the street, but no one seemed likely to be inter-
ested in an unfolding drama involving mere girls. Miriam and I
were quite alone, and if this young man convinced his friends
to join him, we could easily be dragged into an alley and
My mind slammed the door on the awful possibilities.
Going somewhere, love? His baritone dissolved into a
breathy whisper. Can I come along?
Somehow I found a sliver of courage. Leave us alone, I
said, my voice thin and weak against the tumult of the street.
We want nothing to do with you.
Really? Nothing at all? The youth leaned closer, and on
his foul breath I detected the odor of strong drink. I promise
you, girlsI am quite fascinating. Like Zeus, Im a lover, and
Ive come from the Temple where I paid my vows all night.
Furthermore, I am a man who appreciates a pretty face ...
even if that face is still round with youth.
He smiled, and his gaze raked my tunic in a look that felt
like a violation of several commandments. I recoiled as sev-
eral of his companions approached, their faces alight with
expectation.
I had heard my father speak of the despicable acts now rou-
tinely occurring at the Templeindecent rituals dedicated to
pagan gods and practiced in the sacred courts. If this young
man had just come from the Temple...
Somehow I found my voice again. Leave us. My father will
not like this.
The young man pointedly looked around. Is he here? Shall
I call out his name?
This drunken fool would not be dissuaded.

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 A ngel a Hu n t

I grabbed Miriams hand and squeezed it. If he comes any

closer, I whispered, turn and run.
Sharing secrets? The youth lifted a manicured brow. Care
to share your confidences with me?
I retreated another step as he leaned toward us, but before I
could flee, a large hand clutched the youths shoulder and spun
him around. A man stood in the street, a broad-shouldered,
bearded fellow in a rough wool tunic. Clearly, he was no Hellene.
Have you nothing better to do, the newcomer growled,
than to bother girls on the street?
I gripped Miriams arm as the men eyed each other. The other
young men shifted, forming a semicircle around the two whose
upper lips had curled like snarling dogs. The second man had
friends, too, and they formed a half circle behind him, their
eyes alive with challenge.
What sort of behemoth are you? the Hellene asked, his
voice dripping with scorn. And what gives you the right to
interrupt my conversation with those girls?
Those young women, another young man answered, step-
ping up beside his bearded companion, did not appear to be
enjoying your attention. They are daughters of Abraham and
deserve your respect.
The insolent youth snorted. They are daughters of the old
order, he said, flexing his fists. Probably the whelps of farm-
ers. Take a good look and youll see that they have never been
introduced to the wonders of the public baths.
Without warning, the big man charged the youth, and for
several moments the two figures struggled against each other. In
a dance of defiance they careened through the street, smashing
into walls, upsetting baskets, scattering chickens, and stopping
traffic. The circle of onlookers widened as the brawl continued,
and Miriam teetered on the edge of full-blown panic. Lets go,
she urged, grabbing my sleeve, but I could not tear myself away.

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 Judahs Wife

Never in all my fourteen years had any man risen to my defense.

The atmosphere thickened with grunts and curses as the
onlookers fought, bearded men pushing clean-shaven youths,
the lot of them shouting and stumbling over the uneven paving
stones. Miriam kept trying to drag me away, but I would not
leave. Something more than our honor seemed to be at stake.
Of all the men involved in the altercation, the big one caught
and held my attention. Do you know him? I asked Miriam,
pointing.
How would I know him? Miriam shrieked, wringing her
hands.
Mindful of her frayed nerves, I dragged her into a sheltered
doorway. Calm yourself. Those youths are no longer interested
in us. But since your family knows nearly everyone in Jerusalem,
perhaps you know one of those men.
Miriam swallowed hard, then peeked out to study the group
who had come to our aid. The big one is Judah Maccabaeus,
she said, nodding. His family is well known in this part of
the city.
I frowned. The word maccabaeus meant hammerhead, so
how had he come by that name?
Is he a carpenter?
No. A dimple appeared in her cheek. My mother told me
that when Judah was a child, he was so much taller than the
other children that they called him Goliath. He didnt like the
name, so he pounded on the other kids.
Hes a bully, then.
Would a bully have stopped to help us?
I stepped out of the doorway and peered through the crowd
of onlookers to study the brawling men. Judah was the tallest
of the pack, with shoulder-length hair and skin the color of
raw honey. The young men who fought alongside him varied
in height and build, but they shared one particular feature:

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 A ngel a Hu n t

each of them had remarkably large, dark eyes. They had to

be brothers.
The big man and his brothers would not escape this fight
without suffering some damage. A trickle of blood ran from
a gouge on Judahs forehead, and a purplish bruise marked
another brothers eye. Another had been pinned by one of the
arrogant youths, but Judah walked over, pulled the assailant
away, and then punched the Hellene in the belly.
I caught my breath as Judah lunged for the youth who had
stopped us, catching the young man by the waist. The Hellene
pounded on Judahs back, but Judah merely tightened his grip,
straightened his legs, and lifted the other boy from the ground.
The silly Greek hat flew off as Judah twirled with the boy on
his shoulder, displaying his prize before an appreciative audi-
ence. Then, in one move, he dropped the arrogant youth onto
the street and knelt to pin him in place. The Hellene lay limp
and groaning on the stones, belligerent no more.
Its over, I whispered, simultaneously awed and terrified
by the violence that had been instigated on my behalf.
Miriam saw the look on my face and frowned. Dont his
actions please you?
Yes, I said. They do. But theyre sorough.
Violence frightens me, Miriam confessed. Men like that
are so unpredictable. My father says men should be peaceable
and dignified.
Would your brothers agree? Ive seen them fight.
True. But still...
I tugged on my braid and watched the wounded warriors pick
themselves up and inspect each others cuts and bruises. None
of them looked as though they would be permanently scarred.
I had seen far worse violence in my own home, but Miriam
didnt need to know my secrets.
I took another look at the triumphant young man in the

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 Judahs Wife

road, then surrendered to Miriams insistence and let her lead

me away. But I couldnt resist a glance over my shoulder. The
youths from the gymnasium limped down the street while Judah
and his four brothers clapped each others shoulders and lifted
their hands in victory.
I had no idea that I would soon come to know them all.

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 C h a p t e r Tw o

Judah

T hat was invigorating.

Eleazar grinned at me. Father will be upset to hear
you started a fight in the street.
Not when he learns why I was fighting.
Come on, you two, Simon called. This is not a good day
to be late.
After dusting myself off, I walked with my brothers to the
Temple, then stood with them near the gates of the outer court.
None of us had been inside the Temple since the horror that
had occurredFather would not allow it. But he and the other
Levites still felt bound to fulfill their duties, even if it meant
they did nothing but sit in a storage room and wait for the
Temples restoration.
Simon came over to whisper a private word. Better wipe
the blood off your forehead. You know how seriously he takes
these things.
The feeling of accomplishment that had heartened me
drained away, but Simon had always given me good advice.
Though I stood a head taller than both of my older brothers,
years of experience had taught me to respect them.

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 Judahs Wife

I spat onto my fingertips, then wiped my forehead. I licked my

finger and cleaned a bloody scratch on my upper arm. I could
do nothing about the dirt on my best tunic, and from where I
stood I could see that Eleazar had a rip in his.
I caught my younger brothers eye, pointed to the
corresponding spot on my tunic, then pointed at his. He gri-
maced when he saw the torn fabric at his knees.
Smiling at his awkward efforts to hide the tear, I folded my
arms and looked toward the gate through which Father should
soon appear.
My mother drifted through the small group of relatives and
stopped next to me. Youve been fighting, she said, her gaze
drifting absently over the Temple wall.
I will never understand how she knew what we had been
doing.
It couldnt be helped, I told her. A group of upstarts
threatened a couple of girls.
She looked up. Hellenes?
I cleared my throat; the very word brought a bad taste to my
mouth. Because those who ruled over us had been influenced by
a conqueror who came from a land he called Hellas, we called
anyone who followed their precepts Hellenes. We expected our
Seleucid rulers to be Hellenes. What we found astounding was
how many Jews had become devoted advocates of all things
Greek.
They were practically wearing the uniform, complete with
that ridiculous hat, I told Mother. They must have been com-
ing out of that cursed gymnasium when they spotted the girls.
Simon leaned into our conversation. Ive heard about what
goes on in that place. Naked wrestling, for one thing. Indecency.
Mother stepped away, as a modest woman should.
Are we talking about the Hellenes? Eleazar came closer.
Ive heard that some of our own Hebrew brothers have taken

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 A ngel a Hu n t

to wearing a leather strap to hide their circumcision. Others

have sought out physicians to stretch the foreskin
Enough. Simon held up his hand as we grimaced in unison.
Hard to believe that any self-respecting Jew would undergo the
pain of a medical procedure to undo the act that marked his
covenant with HaShem, but we lived in a peculiar time.
Mother came closer. Whats happening in the gymnasium
couldnt be worse than the obscenities taking place right in
front of us, she said, proving that she had not stopped listen-
ing to our conversation. Your father is heartbroken over the
state of the Temple.
Hard to believe he has served twenty-five years. Simons
gaze drifted over the other men lingering outside the South Gate.
I dont know how hes lasted through these troubling times.
Harder still to believe he is fifty, Eleazar went on, giving
Mother a gentle smile. But he has the zeal of a much younger
man.
And the strength. Simon grinned. I believe he is strong
because he had to keep Judah in line. He says teaching you was
often like milking a bull.
I crossed my arms and frowned. My brothers often made
jokes at my expense, but what could I do about it in public? At
home, I might have pounded them until they stopped laughing,
but I could not do that here.
And not today. Not when so many of our friends and neigh-
bors had come to observe a special occasion in Fathers life.
The South Gate opened, a trumpet blared, and my fathers
thin form appeared in the outer courtyard. I lifted my head to
better see the man we all loved and respected: Mattathias the
Levite, from the priestly family of Joarib. Fifty years old and
ready for retirement, as the Law of Moses decreed.
When Father reached the gate, the crowd surged forward
to greet him with warm embraces. Well done, Mattathias!

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 Judahs Wife

Congratulations, Father.
Twenty-five years! May HaShem reward you for your ser-
vice.
When at last I stood before him, I couldnt find the words
to express my depth of feeling. So I drew him into an embrace
and released him after a moment.
Ah, Judah. Father looked up with a wistful gleam in his
eye. Lead us home, will you? There are things I must discuss
with you and your brothers.
I didnt know what occupied his thoughts, but I set off, lead-
ing my family away from a Temple that had once been the
home of our God.

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 C h a p t e r Th r e e

Leah

I clung to sleep as long as I could, despite the grumbling

that came from the table and the quick, light steps of my
mother.
Name of a name, cant you do anything right? Father
snapped. I opened one eye in time to see him spit out a hunk
of bread. Thats not bread, its a mouthful of desert. Youve
got so much sand in there its a wonder my teeth arent worn
down to nubs.
I am sorry, Mother whispered. With great care she slid a
bowl of figs onto the table, then folded her hands and retreated
to the wall. Would you like fruit?
Not figsyesterday you gave me one with teeth marks on it.
How could you offer me something the rats have been at? You
are a stupid, good-for-nothing creature. You bring me nothing
but trouble.
Mother lowered her head, but not before shooting a quick
glance toward the corner, where I pretended to sleep. Even shad-
owed, her eyes glowed with warning, urging me to stay abed.
Father had other ideas. Why doesnt the girl rouse herself?
I need her to get to the market.

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 Judahs Wife

Mother stepped forward as though she would approach me,

but I saw no reason to make her cross the room and risk at-
tracting more of Fathers ire. I am awake. I tossed off my thin
blanket. What do you want me to do, Father?
He grunted and turned in my direction. Set one of the fin-
est cheeses aside for the high priest. He will stop by the stall
today, so give him the cheese and take nothing for it. He lifted
a finger. Do not make a fuss, but you might mention that the
usual cost for such a cheese is twenty drachmas.
But the cost is usually ten drachmas.
A muscle clenched along his jaw, a visible warning I had
learned to heed. Forgive me, FatherI am slow to under-
stand. You want the high priest to know how valuable the
cheese is.
Exactly. His jaw relaxed as he pushed away from the table
and stepped over the long bench. Youhis hairy finger swiv-
eled toward Motherdo not forget to clean my best tunic for
the butchers wedding next week. And buy bread for my dinner,
so I can enjoy something good for once.
Mother tucked her chin, and we held our breath as Father
walked to the door, took a last look around, and stepped out-
side.
Once the door closed, Mother and I both sighed.
I tied my leather belt around my waist. Not in the best
mood, is he?
Not the worst either, praise be to HaShem. Do not forget
to set that cheese aside.
I wont. But why would someone as important as the high
priest stop by our booth?
Mother made a noise deep in her throat. Your father has
been courting friends in high places.
I broke a generous piece of bread from the loaf on the table
and dribbled honey over the torn edge. I took a bite, hoping to

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 A ngel a Hu n t

quiet the rumbling in my empty stomach. Mother went back

to work at her bowl and pestle.
Yesterday, I told her between bites, a man and his broth-
ers intervened when some of the boys from the gymnasium
stopped me and Miriam.
A line appeared between my mothers brows. Who were
these men?
I did not know them, but Miriam said the big man was
Judah Maccabaeus. His father is a Levite. All the sons wore
beards and did not cover their heads.
The faint suggestion of a smile appeared at the corner of
Mothers mouth. A fine family, then.
Mother. I shaded the word with reproach.
Despite what you may think, you need to leave this house,
she said. You are old enough to find a husband and go. Why
not Judah Maccabaeus or one of his brothers? I hear the priest
has five sons.
I ignored her comment about leaving. I doubt the fellow will
remember the incident today. But he seemed to enjoy the fight.
They actually fought?
Out in the street. I dont think anyone was seriously hurt,
but those young Hellenes will think twice before stopping girls
again.
Mother shot me a look of concern, then shook her head.
It is good to know some are still practicing the old ways. Too
many of our people have abandoned the Torah. They pay more
attention to the customs of the pagans
And why wouldnt they try their best to survive? We do not
live in the time of Moses, Mother. We are not struggling against
those who would keep us slaves; we are trying to survive under
men who learned from Alexander the Great. The Greeks nearly
conquered the world, so it is only natural that Greek ideas
should permeate the lands they conquered.

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 Judahs Wife

Run along, Leah. Youd better get to the market before your
father decides to check on you.
Frustrated because she would not discuss these ideas with
me, I threw a wool scarf over my tousled hair, slipped into
my sandals, and gave her an obligatory kiss on the cheek. She
tied up a small cloth filled with bread and figs and put it into
a basket, then added two wrapped cheeses.
I picked up the basket and went out the door. I left the house
later than usual, because the sun had already crested the eastern
hills. The market would begin to bustle in a few moments, and
people would be eager for a fine cheese.
I lowered my head and walked faster.
The houses stood farther apart here on the outskirts of Je-
rusalem, and the sounds of animals mingled freely with the
shouted greetings of neighbors. Our closest neighbor kept
chickens, and we kept four goats in the courtyardone buck
and three does. Mother spent her mornings milking the does;
during the afternoons, she made cheese.
I worked with the goats, too, but did not care about staying
inside to make cheese. I much preferred to work in the market-
place, and Father agreed. He said that since I was far prettier
than Mother, I would work at the market until no one wanted
to look at me anymore.
On the way to work, my thoughts kept returning to Judah
Maccabaeus, who had so nonchalantly stepped forward to de-
fend meMiriam and me, that is. I simply could not believe
that a man who did not know me had willingly, even gladly,
risked injury to himself. My mother paid the price for defend-
ing me often enough, but mothers were expected to defend
their children. Yet I meant nothing to Judah Maccabaeus or his
brothers, and they had volunteered to stop that brazen youth.
Father would not have come to my aid because he admired
the Hellenes. The first time I heard him refer to himself as a

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 A ngel a Hu n t

Hellene, I thought he was talking about some strange tribe

of Israel. Then I heard him tell Mother that a Hellene was a
deep thinker who loved intellectual exploration. The Greeks
are noble people, he said, narrowing his eyes as if he doubted
she could ever understand. They produced Alexander the
Great, who changed the world. We would all do well to emu-
late them.
Even the High Priest Menelaus loved all things Greek and
frequently traveled to Antioch to pay tribute to King Antiochus.
Though Hellenes could be Jews or Seleucids or Samaritans, they
agreed on one thing. If an idea or deity or fable had originated
in Greece, it had to be far superior to anything else.
Mother did not consider herself a Hellene. Though she was
careful to keep her face blank when Father was extolling the
virtues of the Greeks, with me she felt free to release her scorn on
those who tried to forget they were children of Abraham. Did
the Greeks build Solomons Temple? she asked one morning.
Did HaShem promise the Greeks a land flowing with milk and
honey? No. Yet here they are, ruling over our Promised Land as
if it belonged to them. It does not, because this land has been
promised to the seed of Abraham forever.
Father says Jews live all over the world now, I said. He
said the greatest Jewish scribes live in Alexandria, a city of
Greeks in Egypt. Many of those Jews no longer speak Hebrew,
but only Greek.
Mother dropped her work and came toward me, then leaned
forward until her face loomed only inches above mine. Your
father is neither good nor godly. Keep that in mind when he
speaks to you.
The heat in her eyes caught me by surprise. Where was that
fire when Father sparked into one of his rages? When he lifted
his hand to her? Without fail, the flame died just when it would
have made the most difference.

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 Judahs Wife

While I loved my mother, I found it difficult to heed or respect

a woman who habitually submitted to my fathers cruelty.

Though they attempted to lower their voices, my parents

could not have a private conversation in our one-room house.
They rarely spoke of important things when I was awake, and
their serious discussions, if Fathers bluster could actually be
considered speech, usually occurred when they thought I could
not hear them.
I had just drifted into a hazy doze when Fathers rumbling
voice snapped me back to wakefulness. I have heard stories, he
said, about the sons of Mattathias the Levite. Apparently they
defended our daughter and her friend from trouble on the street.
A long silence, then my mother responded, It is true.
The girl is already past the age of betrothal, Father went
on. It is time she married. We would do well to unite with such
a powerful family. Any of the priests unmarried sons would
make a fine son-in-law.
Somehow, Mother found the courage to offer an opinion.
I believe most of them have already taken wives. Perhaps the
youngest.
How like you to point out the problem with my plan.
Father coughed, then cleared his throat. I will make inquiries
tomorrow. It is time our daughter married.
They are not Hellenes.
So?
They are devout, part of the Hasidim. Their son may not
want to marry the daughter of a Hellene.
Why would he care? The girl has no opinions. She will
believe whatever her husband wants her to believe. And I am
nothing but careful in my dealings with all men. I am whatever
people need me to be.

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 A ngel a Hu n t

I clutched at my blanket, taking care not to shift my posi-

tion lest the rustle of my straw-filled mattress overpower my
mothers soft response. But she said nothing, and within a few
moments I heard Father snoring.
If Father had his way, my life would soon change. He wanted
me married, and what Father did not want to see his daughter
settled with a fine husband?
But my father would act out of selfish reasons. Not tomor-
row, and perhaps not this month, but before long he would send
me away, not out of love and care but in order to reap benefits
from a profitable social connection.

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