Nothing you do, nothing I do changes this. We cannot change this.
Axler lifts his face from the blood, looks up, raises his hands, holds his arms to his father.
– Papa.
– It’s OK, boy.
– Papa.
The Rebbe takes a step forward and presses Axler’s face to his stomach and Axler wraps his arms around him.
– Papa, I killed Selig. And Chaim. Chaim died. And their bodies. Chaim was burned and. Fletcher. Fletcher was also killed. Pieces of him were lost. And Elias, his body. And another. We didn’t know what was his and. And the others, they came because I told them it was alright. That if the girls drove and we didn’t use guns, the sins would be less and. I killed Selig, Papa.
– Shht. Shh.
He holds his son’s head and looks at me and Lydia.
– This is what war does to us, yes? Our principles, our love, everything is tested. We find out everything there is to know about ourselves in two things only. In war. And in love.
He puts a hand under his son’s chin and lifts his face and looks at him, tear tracks cut through the blood on the boy’s cheeks.
– My son has just learned that he is not so strong as he thinks.
He glances at Lydia.
– As have you.
Axler sobs, coughs.
– I’m sorry, Papa.
Moishe shakes his head.
– No, no, don’t be sorry to me, be sorry to God. To God you owe your apologies. Apologize now to God.
Axler nods and closes his eyes and begins to whisper.
The Rebbe looks down at him.
– And, you see, tonight you find out more than that you are weak in war. You find out you are strong in love. The love for your friends. It was too strong for you to lie. When the time came, your love was too strong not to do what you had to. Not to face the truth, yes?
He runs his fingers through his son’s hair, straightens his yarmulke.
– This is the nature of love, to shine a light. To show us all what we really feel and want.
He looks at the ceiling.
– We have only to open our eyes and look, to see what love demands of us.
He slides the knife from his belt, pulls his son’s head back, baring his throat, and he pushes the knife through his neck, much as Axler did to murder his friend; a killing stroke he must have learned from his father.
I’m about to come off the floor and grab the Rebbe’s head and twist his neck and drag Lydia the hell out of this madhouse when the boys come back in and I have to put that particular plan on hold.
– And so we are diminished. Four sons of Benjamin. All with the blood of Gibeah in their veins. All killed in one night. And Abe as well. We must not forget Abe, yes? Not a Benjaminite, true, but he carried Gibeah in him. And he fathered two girls both strong enough to carry Gibeah themselves. A rare thing. Here, lift him.
He tucks the tail of the shroud around his son’s body and gestures to two of the boys and they lift Axler and carry him to the front of the temple and lay him at the foot of the altar.
Another boy comes back from the errand he was sent on and places a large bucket of soapy water and a pile of rags where the Rebbe points.
– There. No, leave them. All of you. Just. Sit please, yes? And be quiet for a moment. If this is not too much to ask? Yes? Thank you.
The boys take seats in the last row of the temple.
Rebbe Moishe takes one of the rags and dunks it in the water and starts to wipe up the blood of his son and his sister’s husband.
– And now the girls are of more importance than ever, yes? Daughters of their mother and of Abe. We’ll need them not only because they can produce true sons and daughters of Benjamin, but because they come of such strong stock. With luck, perhaps one or both of them will give us a boy who can carry the blood of Gibeah.
He twists the rag over the bucket and it rains red.
– But, this doesn’t matter to you, yes? You have heard enough of our problems. This our life, to sustain a history and a people that we trace back before Christ and Moses. What is that to you? Nothing. To you there is one question, yes? Coalition or Society,
He scrubs the temple floor.
– What is happening here, here in our land, in New Gibeah, this is for us, not for anyone else. If some others here who carry the blood of Gibeah do not wish to remain in the city, they may do as they please. They may leave. Provided, this is no surprise by now I think, provided that like Abe they do not try to take our daughters with them. But to leave is one thing, yes? To bring outsiders here is another. It invites misunderstanding and chaos.
He holds out his arms, the rag dripping.
– Chaos. War. Death.
He wrings the rag and bends to clean.
– We do not want these things brought here to our doorstep. Nor do you, I think, want them brought to yours. The Gibeahans, the seven hundred left-handed warriors we can muster, brought to your house, would not suit you.
He looks at us.
– Yes?
He cleans.
– Shht. Of course not. So a message must be sent. A message clear and without ambiguity must be sent.
He drops the rag in the bucket and comes to his feet.
– You remember the message that was sent, yes? When Gibeah was destroyed by the children of Israel, you remember? The concubine,
Lydia and I are on our feet, the boys are on theirs.
The Rebbe raises his hands.
– No. No. That will not be the message tonight. No. There has been enough. No. Not tonight. If you come again, if any of you come again across the river, yes, that is the message we will send. That is the warning we will send, the promise we will make and keep.
He looks at the body at the altar.
– But not tonight. For love’s sake we are done with that tonight.
He walks to me and holds out his hands.
– Come.
I don’t move.
He takes my hands and squeezes them both.
– Go to your home, tell your people this is our land, our home. Ours to defend and do with as we wish. No one else’s to give. We don’t ask for permission to do the things we do. We do them. For our protection, for God, we do them. Tell them the strength of our resolve, yes?
He looks over his shoulder to his dead son.
– The lengths we will go to here. Tell them the story of what we do here to be certain the tribe is safe. The sacrifices we make. Our willingness to cull our own herd of the weak to make the strong stronger.
He squeezes tighter.
– Yes?
I nod.
– Sure.
