THE PRODIGAL SON
BY WAYNE GRIFFITH MILLER

CHAPTER 1

The great feast was over at last. Four days had
it lasted ; such a feast as Hanan could not remember
ever having seen at the old homestead. There had been
music, dancing, the best of the old wine and of the new
wine, lavish abundance of meats, fruits, honey - the
food had at first a special appeal for him; later he had
felt ill, and had been unable to eat and drink with the
others. Too long his stomach had been accustomed to
restricted rations to make a quick adjustment to such
plenty.

Even the servants had come in from the feilds to
join in the revelry. And among the servants, who was
that attractive little minx with the dark skin and the
lithe, slender body who swayed so provocatively in the
dance? A housemaid, he supposed. Why did his mind come
back to her? He was through with that sort of thing.
But she was an alluring morsel.

He supposed the feast might have gone on even
longer , but the fourth day was the preparation for the
Sabbath. Hanan had grown weary of the incessant
celebration in his honor , and was glad that his father
held fast to a strict observance of the seventh day.
Even such a joyous feast must not be allowed to go on to
long.

Hanan knew, too, that Shebanish was very sorely
irritated by the revelry. This was another reason he
did not want the feast to continue. It troubled him.
He must find some kind of plan, over the Sabbath - some
means by which to appease his elder brother. He had to
think. He must try to find out what was his next move ;
discover how he was to fit into the household. His mind
was in a daze. It was all so different from the way he
had pictured it as , weakened by want , he had tramped
the weary furlongs from Phoenicia. That road seemed now
to have been one long vision of food. He had thought of
his father; he had pictured Eliezar as a hard ,
unbending master rather than as a loving parent. He had
even rehearsed a little speach of contrition which he
had hoped would purchase for him a measure of lenience -
at least enough to insure food for the immediate future.
But food - that was the thing that had haunted all his
league - long thoughts.

He was sitting alone on the housetop,
overlooking all the familiar scenr. Often in the last
weeks had he visualized that landscape and wondered if
it had changed in the five years he had been away.
There, under the setting sun, so bright that it almost
dazzled him, was the crest of Carmel, with the plain and
foothills intervening. The blaze of the sun , he knew,
was due in part to its reflection from the expance of
the bay of Acca. He could not see the blue water now.
But to the northward were the round-topped hills of
Galilee where Lebanon sent his mighty roots groping
forth miles for added support from the plain. They
looked much different now from when he had so recently
skirted them on his long trudge from Phoenicia. He had
slept in one of those valleys only three nights ago, and
at sunset had looked toward this, his father's house,
before he had lain down, exhausted and hungry.

Hanan turned toward the east, where Mount Tabor
amid his attendant staff of hills still caught the sun
and signalled a salute to Carmel. In the foreground was
the village of Sarid where legend had it the ten
thousand sons of Naphtali and Zebulon had rushed upon
and defeated the army of Sisern. To the South were the
far reaches of that same Carmel which races thirty-five
miles to leap into the sea. Nearer to the south was the
Kishom with its pleasant valleys.

There before him the westward course of the
river leveled out after the tumbling descent from the
Plain of Esdraelon, so that under the evening sky it was
like a ribbon of silver which might be tied about the
dark green tresses of the ancient mountain. At least
that was the way Hezekiah used to teach him to regard
the foliage when he was a dreamy boy.

That set him to thinking of Hezekiah, the
ancient steward of his father's household. The old man
had been very busy during the days of the feasting, and
Hanan had scarcely found opportunity to speak to him.
Such contacts as there had been, however, had caused a
measure of uneasiness in the young man. He felt a
certain coldness in the old servant. Was it possible he
was slower to forgive and receive his young master than
was Eliezar?

Hanan's mind was occupied with this when he
heard a light step back of him, and is turned to greet a
girl of about eighteen, beautiful with all the fresh
dark mystery which marks certain types of Hebrew women.

"Ah, my sister," said Hanan. "Welcome art thou;
sit by me here and let us talk!"

"It is not beautiful," replied Delores,
indicating the scene befor them. "Often have I sat here
and tried to imagine where in all this beauty of
mountain and plain and the seas beyond the mountain you
might be. Will you tell me about your travels and
experiences some time?" and she laid her hand
caressingly on him.

"I did not travel much, but what I saw of beauty
I will gladly share with you", he said, dropping into
familiar and informal mode of speech which she had used.

"Hexekiah says you have been very wicked", she
said. "Will you tell me about that, too?"

"Why should you want to know about wickedness",
he asked. "You are just a child. Any anyhow, I am
through with the wickedness Hezekiah speaks of, and want
to forget all about it."

"I think it is delicious to be wicked", the girl
persisted. I was wicked once - and oh, it was
pleasant."

"Why, what could you have done that was wicked?"

"You will not scold me!"

"Why should I!"

"Shebaniah would."

"I will not."

"It was at the well , one evening, and a
stranger riding a white camel with little bells on its
throat latch, asked me to give him water", she related.
"I did so; there was no one else there. And
afterward.... he kissed me....And often I think of him
and wish I could see him again. I know it's wicked.
Why should wicked things be so nice?"

Hanan did not know how to answer the girl.

"It's all so different from what I had
imagined"' he said with a sweeping gesture.

"What! Has Carmel changed?" The girl indicated
the landscape darkening toward the sudden Eastern night.

"No, I mean my being here. Do you know", and he
turned impulsively toward her, "I had not thought of
father receiving me as he did. I was a disgrace to him;
I had sinned against heaven and in his sight, and I was
returning to ask him to make me as one of his hired
servants, that I might have food to eat, and a place to
sleep, and raiment to cover my nakedness. I had even
decided what to say to induce him to receive me so. And
, behold how I am taken in, not only as a son, but as a
son welcomed back from the dead."

"Father never ended grieving for you, and at
family prayers always mentioned you by name", the girl
said.

"Where is father now", Hanan asked.

"Gone with Shebaniah to the synagogue. Have you
forgotten that it is the Sabbath eve? Even now the
servants are lighting the Sabbath lamp; the house is
newly festooned, and the feast awaits father's return.
See, this is my Sabbath gown, and you will find one
ready for you."

"I had forgotten." Then, after a little pause;
"I want your help. Will you help me win back the love
of Shebaniah?"

"Our brother is angry without cause", the girl
replied hotly. "Tell me, is sin such a terrible thing
that he and Hezekiah should act as they do? Aren't you
the same as when you went away? Are you leprous, that
they should not want you here? Hasn't father welcomed
you back? And should they not do so?"

"Delores, my sister, I cannot tell you. Our
elder brother rightly hates sin, but I want his love.
Father's welcome makes me feel that maybe I can again
become a member of the household such as I was. You
have been so kind - do this for me. Do not argue with
Shebaniah, but persuade him that it would be merciful
for him to receive me again as a brother. Will you talk
to him after the Sabbath? I go, now, to prepare for the
feast; but tarry you here and I will come again."

It all seemed to natural to Hanan; the familiar
rooms of the house, the trees outside in which he had
played as a boy. By the wall down the road was the
eillow from whose young limbs he had made many a
whistle. The old dog, loved in puppyhood, trotted at
his heels as he walked across the court toward his room.
The atmosphere of festivity on the Sabbath eve was as
it always had been. He glimpsed Hezekian puttering over
the table where presently the entire household would
assemble for the formal Sabbath feast. The steward
moved rapidly away, and Hanan suspected he had
amticipated the young man was about to speak to him.

Hanan continued to his room for his personal
preparation for the feast, as he knew his father would
desire his presence. In a short time he returned to the
housetop to rejoin Delores. Again she was curious about
his adventures while away from home, and he told her
somethimg about the city of Tyre, where the ships of all
the world came to port, where on the streets and in the
public houses ome met sailors and merchants from every
part of Europe and Asia.

"Too bad I could not bring you a gift - some
ornament of gold or a precious perfume!"

She was like him in her mind, he thought, this
sister of his who so eagerly was demanding fuller
knowledge of life and of the world. He hoped she might
not be led by this eagerness into the same degree of
distress and self-abasement that had been his.

So they quietly talked together in a delightful
atmosphere of comradship. Then, after she had left him
to see about certain household matters which even the
Sabbath might not dismiss from her mind, he again
attempted to untangle the experiences of the past month
and to see whither in the future their various threads
led. He did not dwell long on his memories of the
mighty Phoenician famine, or of the stench of the
swineherd. He marveled yet again at the welcome of
Elizar, his father; he had to glance at his robe and the
ring on his hand for evidence that he was not even yet
in a hunger-tortured dream by some Syrian roadside.

No; it was true. He was home again. He was
accepted as a son, a member of the household. But - the
thought stung him as it arose in his mind - no longer
was this his father's household as in the old days.
Everything that was left now belonged to Shebaniah;
Hanan's part had been dissipated, and Eliezar had
distributed to them his entire living on that day, more
that five years ago, when he had yielded to his younger
son's entreaties.

Hanan thought bitterly of the ambitions which
had been his then. He was going to make something great
of his younger son's inheritance. He would take it to
Tyre, invest it in cargoes for Corinth and the west,
double its amount in a short time, make of himself a
merchant prince. His plans were all right. He had made
some profits from his first investments. Then he had
met Jason the Greek, and had become a member of the gay
group which surrounded him; Romans, Greeks, Egyptians, a
Persian - himself the only Jew. He had spent money,
more money; had gambled, had seen his talents melting
away, had staked his all, finally, on one ship bound for
Rome and Alexandria. The ship never arrived at port -
never been heard from.

After that the desperate search for a livlihood
; the swinehere; the desperation which resulted in
ultimate sanity,and the long, heart-breaking journey
home in his broken spirited humility. Then, suddenly,
he was thinking of the Nubian woman; she had haunted him
awake and sleeping since that last night he had spent in
her arms before he left Tyre to find means and
subsistance. Something made contact in his mind, and he
knew that the dark skinned housemaid whose sensous,
swaying form he had followed in the band of dancers
during the feast reminded him of the sinuous litheness
of the Nubian. There was something in her carriage, and
in the way her neck rose from her shoulders, that was
the same - or similar, at any rate.

He put the thought away from him resolutely.
This was something different - a new life. Here was no
place for thought of the pleasures women might give;
here were his father, Delores - and problem of
recapturing the love of Shebaniah. Good old Shebaniah,
who never had known either sin or temptation. No wonder
he was such a comfort to his father.

Hanan rose abruptly and descended into the house.
Eliezar would be returning from the Sabbath eve services
at the synagogue in a moment, and Shebaniah would be
with him. They came in as Hanan entered the gaily
festooned room where the tables were spread with the
Sabbath feast, and where the Sabbath lamp was burning
brightly.

Delores went to her father, who put one arm
about her in caress. The ancient custom of the Sabbath
blessing upon each of the children individually, while
not always followed by Eliezar, Hanan knew would be
observed on this occasion. Each in order of his age
knelt before the old man.

"Blessed art thou, Shebaniah, my firstborn;
strong and prudent shalt thou be, and just in thine own
eyes. Let not they mercy fail toward thy brother, thy
sister, and all whom the Lord giveth thee for thime."

"Blessed art thou, Delores, star of our lives,
the abiding spirit and the image of my beloved Rachel;
riches hath the Lord given thee in thine own self that
thou mayest bring blessings thricefold upon thy brethren
and thy father."

The old man continued to include the steward in
his blessings.

"Blessed art thou, Hezekiah, thou faithful and
righteous servant. And Blessed shalt thou be, and all
thine, according as thou carest for these, my older and
mine younger son, and my little star of night, Delores."

"Blessed shall ye all be, ye household of
Eliezar the aged, with the blessings which our fathers
had from God, andthe blessing which Jacob gave unto our
father Isaachar."

Then they all reclined at the table, as was
their family custom from years before - Shebaniah on his
father's right, Hanan on his left, Delores beside
Shebaniah and Hezekiah at a respectful distance from
Hanan. The servants brought basins and towels for the
ceremonial washing of hands before the Sabbath feast.
Soon there was amiable chatter about the table as each
one responded to the traditional joyous informality as
practiced away from the haunts of Tabbinism. Hanan and
Delores kept up a merry repart which Eliezar enjoyed
greatly. Shebaniah answered his father and Delores, but
forebore to speak directly to Hanan, except once when
the latter referred to some boyish prank in which they
were both involved. Then his remark was significant.

"Thou wert always getting into trouble and
implicating me", he said.

"Oh, He", responded Delores, gaily. " Do you
remember the day you loosed the ram in the dooryard and
he butted Hezekiah as he carried a jar of milk", and the
laugh was at Shebaniah's expense.

"My old dog remembers me, father," Hanan said.

"Well should he; thou hast pilfered for him
many a joint before the bone was bared", Hezekiah
rejointed, and again they all laughed.

Under the spell of the occasion Hanan began to
feel even more comfortable in this family group. He
could almost forget he had been away, it all seemed so
natural. His father's eye upon him was gentle with love
and kindness. Hanan felt Hezekiah would soon respond to
his overtures. Only Shebaniah remained aloof. While
with his father, Hanan could almost ignore Shebaniah's
attitude, and he decided to defer all thought about it
ntil after the feast. Delores, he noted, hd grown
beautiful and womanly, and was witty and gracious as
well. Would she marry soon , he wondered!

The feast lasted until late. At its end Eliezar
gave thanks in conclusion of the ceremonial, and soon
afterward everyone retired to his own bedroom. But
three members of the family lay long thinking of the
problems presented by Hanan's return.

Hanan himself was not entirely at ease over
Hazekiah's attitude, and was unable, even after hours of
thinking, to discover a way to win back the good graces
of Shebaniah.

Shebaniah, on the other hand, ws filled with
resentment over the joyous reception given his
profligate younger brother by the entire family. Hanan
had sinned; he should be obliged to suffer. Such was
the spirit of the law. He, Shebaniah, was the older
son, the heir of the family; to him of right should
belong all the favor which was being showered on this
brother who had come back flaunting his shame in the
face of the family and of the whold village and
countryside. Shebaniah did not believe Hanan was
penitent; he thought he had simply returned to get more
money from his father - money which should now belong to
the elder son, according to the terms of the inheritance
settlement. What reward was there for honesty, and
steady industry, and integrity, if Hanan could do this?

Eliezar faced these problems, seeing them
through the eyes of each of his sons; he faced, also,
another problem. He did not believe Hanan had his eyes
on any of Shebaniah's property; he knew that somehow he
must make it possible for such suspicion. But he,
Eliezar knew that somehow he must make it possible for
Hanan to acquire another inheritance. He must somehow
reconcile his sons to each other on a basis where Hanan
would receive property in his own right. He must not be
left dependent upon the unreliable charity and mercy of
his self-righteous elder brother. That would be too
cruel.

"Shebaniah spoke truly", the father mused.
"Never at any time has he transgressed my commandments.
Righteousness has attended all his days; temptations
once common to me, and natural to Hanan, have passed him
by. Therefore he cannot sympathize with his brother.
Had he anything to be forgiven, my task would be
easire."

Eliezar finally slept with the determination to
have a talk with Shebaniah as soon as the Sabbath should
be past.
CHAPTER 2

"Thou didst send for me, my father?"

Shebaniah, still wearing his phylacteries and
his sabbath garments with the wide fringed borders,
approached his father who was sitting on the housetop
under the bright stars and glorious moon of the
deepening night. Only a short time before had Eliezar
formally seperated the Sabbath from the first day of the
week. Now he might talk with Shebaniah about worldly
matters, and about his attitude toward Hanan, whose
return from wasting his substance in riotous living had
filled the elder son with indignation.

"Yea, I would talk with thee, my son. Many
things require attention. and thou well knowest how very
much I rely on thy good judgement. Thou art skilled as
a husbandman, and thy skill is prodicing wealth for
thee. Thy crops are plentiful; thy flocks and herds
graze the hillsides from the slopes of Carmel to the
foothills of Lebanon. Thy servants and laborers take
pride in thy success, and give thee the better service
because of their pride. Therefore, shall we not plan
together concerning the affairs?""

"Thou art kind my father. Almost I thought I
had not found favor in thy sight, even for all my
labors, and my planning, and my little successes.
Almost I thought thou didst lightly esteem all these",
and his arm swung in a semicircle indicating all that
lay before them, "in comparison with the soft manners
and fair words of that wastrel." There was no mistaking
his reference to Hanan.

"Tut, tut, my son. It was meet that we should
make merry over thy brother's return. But I turn now to
thee for serious counsel. First, concerning the flocks.
Where shalt thou have them grazing in the early part of
the season?"

"The grass greens first in the valleys to the
north of Kishon, and I have told the shepherds to lead
them there first. Tomorrow at daybreak, if thou stand
here, thou shalt see them moving yonder, grazing as they
go. Three days will it take for them to reach the
farthest valleys of our grazing land, and ten days after
they be gone from sight the herdsmen will lead the
cattle and young asses the same way."

"Well planned, my son. The ground after ten
days will be firm enough to carry the cattle without
cutting the sod. And shalt thou move the cattle across
Kiehon at midsummer and let the flocks follow them after
the early rains? Thus they will have green pasturage at
all times."

"So shall I do. We must sell the young rams
soon, for they are too mny for our forage. We have
twenty score ewes now lanbing, and many of them bear
twins. One ewe bore triplets, and one cow bore twin
calves."

"Didst thou take the third lamb from the mother
of three and give it to a mother of one For else it
may die for want of food, and may stunt the other two."

"that we did, and Gilead the shepherd told me he
had great trouble persuading a ewe to receive it."

"put it by her in the night, and put her urine
on it. Then will she think it her own."

"I will tell Gilead."

There was silence, while Eliezar looked up at
the stars and seemed lost in deep thought. Shebaniah
move slightly as if to go.

"Tarry, my son. Shalt thou build another barn
for the new wheat? How thinkest thou?"

"Not this year, father. Last year we stacked
wheat outside, and it was burned in great fires. Had we
had a new barn, it might have been burned too, as was
one of the old barns. But next year perchance we may
build a new barn, with the money from this year's wheat.
I will let it stand longer in the shock, and sell it
early to the Phoenician tradesmen before the dry season
brings peril of fire."

"Well said." And again the old man studied the
stars and was silent.
Presently the voice of Delores was heard from
within as she played upon a harp and sang. Her clear
soprano rang in the court of the house, and both father
and brother found pleasure in listening. Both were
inpressed by the quality and timbre of her voice with
the realization that this star of the household was no
longer a little girl. Her rounder, full tones were
those of a woman, and the song she sang, a love song,
was further key to Eliezar's next remark, made when the
song had stopped.

"Shebaniah, my son, my firstborn, thou art the
bulwark and guardian of thy sister against all trouble.
Soon, mayhap sooner than I think, I shall be gathered to
my fathers and my body will lie beside my beloved Rachel
in the tomb. But I shall go in peace, knowing thou wilt
be father and brother to thy sister, my little bright
star, the image of thy mother, my Rachel."

"Say not so, father. But I will care for my
sister as thou hast said", Shebaniah said, earnestly.

"When she shall marry, pray GOD it may be for
love - such a love as her mother knew with me and I with
hre. And thou shalt be her dower, and shalt be to her
as a father and as and elder brother. For all I have is
thine."

"All that shall I do, and more, according to the
love I have for my sister."

Hanan's voice had taken up the song, as if in
answer to Delores. His father thought its quality
reflected a deep yearning, a lonesomeness too deep to
put into words, a burden which only music might bear.

"And for thy brother, too, my son", Eliezar
said. "For he, too, is in thy care and under thy love.
I know" - as Shebaniah raised a hand impatiently - "I
know he hath come back as one that was lost, and as from
the dead hath he come again alive. Thy mother's joy he
was, and her second pride only after thee. Him, too,
shalt thou receive in peace and over him shalt thou
watch."

"He shall be in peace", Shebaniah replied,
stubbornly. His entire demeanor had changed, and
Eliezar knew his son had not received Hanan back into
the relationship which their father wanted. Yet he knew
no way to soften further what he felt he must say, so he
went on, trying to speak casually and to appear to
ignore Shebaniah's evident rebellion.

"Yea, he shall be in peace, and as a member of
thy household. And moreover, let us remember that he
hath now none inheritance from me, for already have I
divided unto thee and him my living. All that now
remains is thine. Yet let us now remember how sweet is
mercy. "He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his
Maker", saith the wise men, 'but he that honoreth him
hath mercy on the poooor.' And shall we not show mercy
to thy brother? Shall we not provide for him another
inheritance in the place of the one he hath lost? Thou
hast had two to his one, as becometh the elder son. Yet
by what accident is he the younger and art thou elder?
How is he not the elder and thou the younger? And hadst
thou lost thine all, and had he now what thou hast,
would it not be seemly for him to show mercy upon thee?
And shalt thou not be the stronger if thou makest him
storng? For behold, two shall lean upon each other and
defeat more than twice as many as when they fight alone.
So shalt thou and he be, the sons of Eliezar, and of
thy mother Rachel. And so shalt thou have compassion
upon thy brother."

For a moment Shebaniah was silent, but Eliezar
felt his anger even before he spoke. Yet even so, his
father was dazed at the outburst which came from the
lips of this slow, usually even-tempered son. Scarcely
could he believe it possible for this man, whom still he
thought of as a little boy, to fight in his mind against
an idea as did Shebaniah fight his father's proposal.

"Have I then no rights? And hast thou called me
here with words of flattery, saying I am skilled because
of the things thou knowest I have done for thee, only to
ask that I give of my living to thei ungrateful wretch?
It is mine - mine for my labor and mine by thine own
word of inheritance - and he is no longer fit to be
called thy son or my brother. Have not I also the same
passions he hath? Do not I, too, yearn for the caresses
of women who can be bought with money? Have not I the
same needs in the night time for soft breasts and bodies
and arms that cling? Do not I also dream of gay
companions such as they who took his heritage from him?
And the answer to my yearning is work, the care of thy
crops, and the care of thy herds, and the placing of the
third lamb in the urine of a ewe not its mother, and the
building of barns for thy wheat.

"Nay, let me speak. If I had done as he did,
saidst thou? Aye, if I had, then who would have been
able to care for my sister whom thou lovest, and to give
her a dowry? Who would have comforted thime own old
age? Yet had I not the same right? But I did it not; I
have transgressed not one of thy commandments at anby
time; I have not made merry over a kid with my friends;
I have asked no feast, no fine robe mine own hands did
not earn, no ring on my finger, no perfume in my hair,
no softness of living. And shall I not have my reward
that is mine own. So shall I!"

"But thy brother--."

"Let that prodical pet of Tyrian harlots live
under my roof if me must; he was my mother's son,
blessed be her memory. Let him whiten his hands, and
scent his hair, and sing women's songs, and wear thy
gold ring and thy fine robes, and let him put on his
mighty airs. But give him now another inheritance, let
him get himself to those who have the one thou gavest
him in the day of his folly. Let him ask them for his
talents back, and let him hear their laughter.
Merciful? I am merciful that I have not smitten him;
let him now ask mercy of those who stripped him and sent
him home naked and hungry to thee.