The next morning I awoke filled with anticipation. I stretched, smiling, saying to myself, "Good morning, Salome. Welcome to the first day of your new life."

I felt free at last. Free from the guilt I had carried for so long. Guilt had first entered my life when as young girl I thought I was somehow responsible for the withdrawal of my father's love. The burden of guilt grew as I wondered if I could have done something more to help my ailing mother. The most crippling guilt, though, was over my betrayal of Samson's love. Although I still accepted responsibility for my actions, the guilt was gone, taken by Yasha and buried in some nameless place, perhaps in the depths of the ocean. Forgiveness accomplished this miracle. So I sang as I washed and dressed, "This is a new day Yahweh has made. I will rejoice and be glad."

I went below, greeting Naomi and Alian with a cheery good morning. Then taking up the water jug, I waved jauntily as I headed for the well to replenish our water supply. It was early and few had yet to venture out. I waved at some women coming toward the gate from farther inside the city. I strolled leisurely to the well, savoring the fresh morning air. I stopped to admire the sunrise. Seeing some pretty flowers growing wild in the field beyond the well, I sat my jar down and wandered over to pick a few and weave them into a floral crown. As I turned back, my hair festooned with flowers, I saw a stream of women spilling through the gates of Hebron.

"There she is," one shouted, "the betraying harlot!"

The hatred I saw on her face stopped me in my tracks. I did not know her name, or the names of many of the others following her; but they were my neighbors, women who heretofore had treated me with civility. Today their faces were twisted into sneers. Venom poured from their eyes. As they walked rapidly toward me, some stooped, swooping up stones without taking their eyes from me or breaking stride.

The first one to reach me, swung her well bucket viciously, striking the side of my head as she cried, "Murderess!"

I reeled back, managing to stay on my feet as blood flowed from a gash in my scalp.

"You should have stayed inside the city walls," another shrieked as a rock flew out of the crowd, striking me in the shoulder.

Another hit me in the chest. As more stones found their mark, I fell to my knees, vainly covering my head with my hands.

"She is not so haughty, now," a voice exclaimed as another bucket hit my back and I sprawled facedown in the dirt.

"Whore, betrayer, traitor, filthy prostitute. . .," the words rained down, crushing my spirit even as the blows battered my body. 

Now that I was down, the women pounced, kicking, pulling my hair, ripping my clothing. Like a pack of rabid wolves, they vented pent up anger over Samson's destruction. I felt a sharp pain as something pierced my eye and then I blacked out.

I found myself floating above the massacre. I watched as the women continued to berate me and abuse my broken body. I wondered that they could not ascertain that my spirit was gone.

I watched Alian and Naomi run out of the city gates in response to the commotion, shouting for the women to stop. The mob was gripped by a fever hotter than any roaring inferno, and their cries fell on deaf ears. Not until men on horses arrived, surrounding the women and brandishing weapons, did the beating stop. Commanded to return to their homes, the women evaporated quickly back into the city. The enforcers of the law followed on horseback, leaving Naomi and Alian to claim my shattered body.

Naomi leaned over me and checked for a heart beat.

"She still lives," she told Alian quietly. "We must get her inside. Her pulse is faint. I fear for her life."

Alian lifted me gently from the ground, the garland of flowers somehow clinging crookedly to my torn hair.

"Don't die on me, Salome," he said in a broken voice as a tear dropped onto my battered face. "I would mourn for you with as deep a grief as Sallu had for Samson."

From where I seemed to hover, I could not hear Alian's soft words. Yet even though I was unconscious and my spirit had fled, somehow those whispered words seeped into my subconscious and made their way into my bruised and defeated heart.

I followed as Naomi and Alian carried my limp form into the house. It was as though I was attached to the body by some invisible chord that passed through walls, keeping my spirit tied to the almost lifeless physical shell.

The staff had gathered in the front courtyard when Alian and Naomi went flying from the house. Now as Talmai opened the door for them, Judith gasped and then stood in silent disbelief, tears rolling down her usually stalwart face. Matred whimpered like an injured puppy and then fainted. Korah retched into a flower pot.

Naomi took command. Slapping Matred to waken her, she ordered her to boil water. "Now is not the time for vapors, girl. Salome's life hangs in the balance."

Judith was directed to make a healing broth. Naomi shouted the ingredients to her as she headed up the stairs. Talmai was sent rushing ahead to prepare a pallet on Naomi's roof, since Sallu was already recuperating on Alian's. Korah was dispatched for clean rags.

As Alian gently laid me on the pallet, Naomi instructed him on his first task.

"Cut her dress off of her," Naomi said bluntly. "I must go fetch the necessary herbs and tools from the other roof, so I cannot do it. Time is of essence. I must be able to see the injuries in order to know what to treat first. Matred is too timid; Judith is untrained and rough. Myra is still in shock and knows little of the healing arts. Besides, she still nurses Sallu. Lock your emotions and your modesty into a corner of your heart, Alian. You must be my assistant."

With these terse words, Naomi directed Talmai to help carry her medicinal tools and herbs, leaving Alian alone with my broken body.

Since my clothes were already ripped, Alian grabbed a torn place and began to tear my clothes away from the drying blood. As I moaned, without consciousness, Alian apologized for hurting me but grimly continued the odious task.

I was shocked at what I saw. Blood from my head wounds had run down my face and onto my chest and dried there. My nose was askew. Fresh blood still oozed from under my eyelids. One ear was half ripped from my head. My whole face had turned red, but was starting to become blue in places. Swelling had begun. Large bruises covered my body where stones had left their marks. In a few places there were cuts. 

After ripping my dress free of my body, Alian gently lifted my limbs, searching for signs of a break. He tenderly wiggled each finger and toe, reminding me of a new parent examining their baby to make sure all of the appropriate parts were present. Then he pressed on my abdomen. Finally he ran his hands over my ribcage. When I whimpered as he touched my side, he leaned down and examined my right ribs more closely. By the time Naomi returned, he was able to catalogue for her the extent of my frontal external injuries.

It was rather comical to watch Talmai carry Naomi's healing supplies onto the roof with eyes averted. As soon as he sat them down, she sent him below to bring hot water. Naomi and Alian then turned me on my side and checked my back for injuries. Finally Alian smoothly lifted me so Naomi could remove the soiled clothes from under me and replace them with a clean blanket.

As soon as Talmai set down the bucket of water and the clean rags he had brought from Korah, Naomi dismissed him. Alian began to clean my wounds while Naomi mixed a concoction and coaxed it down my reluctant throat. As I finally swallowed, it was as though the chord binding my spirit to my body was reeled in, and I ceased to float above the scene, returning to oblivion inside my battered body.

Although badly bruised, my body had withstood the beating surprisingly well, or so Naomi said. No bones were broken except a couple of ribs. After I was cleaned, Naomi tied a cloth tightly around my chest to ease any pain in breathing while the ribs healed. Her greatest worry was that I might have sustained some kind of injury to my brain. It seems that the women were quite vicious with my head. She applied salve to the torn ear and plastered it to my head. The broken nose was adjusted somewhat but would never be straight again. Something sharp had penetrated both eyes. Naomi smoothed a salve over the sockets, hoping to keep infection from setting in. There was nothing she could do about my sight. She placed bandages over my eyes. She and Alian shaved my head to make certain that my skull was not cracked. Although there was a great deal of blood, the cuts on my scalp proved superficial. Naomi fashioned a cloth to fit over my head. This was to be kept damp with cool water from a natural spring to keep swelling to a minimum. Herbs to reduce swelling were also part of my medicinal drink.

For the next several days, Alian and Naomi took turns keeping the cloths damp and coaxing medicine down my throat. My cuts slowly started to heal. My swollen face began to return to its natural shape. The bruises turned almost black before they began to fade to blue. Later they would turn yellow. They would be visible for weeks to come.

For ten days I remained in a coma. Naomi and Alian talked to me and sang to me. They were determined that I would not remain in a vegetative state. One afternoon while Alian was napping, Naomi sat beside my bed talking aloud to Yahweh, beseeching him to bring me back to them. I imagine her hands were raised heavenward and her eyes focused on the spirit world. I had seen her talk to Yahweh that way many times before.

As I gained consciousness, I lay for a moment, feeling like a trespasser listening in on something very private and personal. Finally I spoke.
"You have nagged Yahweh enough," I said weakly. "He has sent me back so He can have some peace and quiet."

"Praise, Yahweh! Praise, Yahweh!" Naomi shouted. I felt her grab my hand and kiss it. Then she grasped my shoulders, leaned over and kissed me on both cheeks.

I raised my hand slowly to my face and felt the bandages that still covered my eyes. "Will, will I see again?" I asked haltingly.

"No, child," she said. "There was nothing I could do to save your eyes."

"Why didn't you let me die?" I asked dispiritedly.

The answer came from beyond Naomi.

"Because she could not stand to see me mourn," Alian said as he walked across the roof. "You can certainly make a lot of noise, Old Woman," he continued affectionately. "Your shouts of praise woke me from a sound sleep."

I could not see Alian, but it was as though I could feel his presence. I heard his footsteps halt by my bed. I heard his knees creak as he squatted. I could feel the heat from his hand before he grasped mine. As he slowly caressed by hand, I could feel his eyes on my face.

"I will be your eyes Salome," he said softly.

Snatching my hand back, I exclaimed harshly, "No! Never! I will not chain you to this house. You should have left me to die in the field, Alian."

"Ah, Salome," Naomi crooned. "Must you learn the same lessons all over again? Let go of your misplaced pride; it is no crime to accept help, especially from those who love you."