I never heard Naomi tell people that we were willing to take in the hopeless who were fleeing their past, but even as we were in the process of renovating, men began to find their way to our home. The first one, Jacob, came and offered his carpentry services in exchange for room and board. When asked why he did not simply set up shop somewhere or apprentice himself to a local carpenter, he reluctantly admitted he could not leave the gates of Hebron for fear of his life. One night on the way home from a distant job, he had given a young man a ride. He fell asleep at the reigns and his horse left the trail, pulling the cart through a hole. The axle broke and the passenger was thrown from the cart. His neck broke. His family swore blood vengeance on the carpenter. He fled to Hebron as a city of refuge, but he dared not venture outside the gates where he would no longer be protected. He needed a place to live while he established a reputation as a carpenter of some skill. He hoped eventually to open a shop where he could make furniture and fashion repairs. Naomi bargained with him and even commissioned him to make our furniture so that she could brag to her acquaintances about his workmanship.

When Jacob asked for housing, Alain moved into the new dwelling. Naomi and I continued to go back to her home at night while the renovations were completed. By the time we moved to our new home, there were already four men living there with Alian. They occupied beds in a room along the left side of the courtyard. The oblong common room contained six sleeping couches along the outside wall and six along the wall facing the courtyard. The sleeping couches were separated by a space that served as a sort of hall. When the house was bought, these were six individual rooms. Alian removed the walls separating the rooms, but left the six separate entrances. He explained to Naomi that he had done so purposely to discouraged boarders from becoming so comfortable that they did not seek to find themselves a more permanent home in the city. The men were afforded almost no privacy and few would desire to live for long under such conditions.

The central courtyard was now smaller, because the rooms on the right side had been transformed. A curving six-foot wall with an arched central opening now extended the length of the inner courtyard. The arch extended some distance into the area beyond, shading the entrance and masking what was inside. At the end of the arch, one walked into a shaded courtyard where newly planted trees surrounded several ornately carved wooden benches. To the left of the courtyard were two spacious rooms with sleeping couches. They were separated by stairs that led upward to two adjoined roofs. The roof space of the room nearest the courtyard was separated from the common space by a latticed wall that already was partially covered by vines growing out of a rectangular planting box that ran the length of the roof. Shrubs growing in ornate clay pots arranged along the front edge camouflaged the roofs of both rooms. Anyone on the roof of the inner room, Salome's room, could look out into the surrounding countryside, using the small openings that were carved into the city wall when it was built. These two roof spaces were separated from the roof of the back compound by a sturdy wall with no opening. Thus, Naomi and Salome were granted a semi-private roof space where they could sit in the evening without being exposed to the prying eyes of the boarders.

The inner courtyard extended more deeply on the right and curved graciously around a room that opened onto both courtyards. This room, too, had an outside stairway that led to its roof. This roof was protected on two sides by walls. One wall was simply the solid wall that separated the compound from the city proper. Anyone wanting into the dwelling had to knock on a sturdy door that opened inward to allow access to the compound. The other upper wall was a duplicate of the latticed, vined wall atop Naomi's room. This roof, too, had potted plants along the edge facing the rooms on the other side of the inner courtyard. This roof differed, though. Along the solid wall, shelves had been fashioned at one end, with a low sleeping couch built against the other end of the wall. A rolled canvas was attached to poles that when angled outward would allow a makeshift awning to cover part of the roof. This area was designed as Naomi's healing space, but was built atop Alian's room for protection.

This secluded area belonged to Naomi, Salome and Alian. Alain's room opened into the outer courtyard as well as into the inner courtyard. It allowed him to act as Naomi's and Salome's protector while giving him access to the outside courtyard. His was the only room with what amounted to a window. It was a high latticed opening that allowed him to hear any disturbance at the outer gate, which was just outside his room.

The back area served as kitchen and stables for the livestock. Along one side were several spacious rooms. These were for hired help and their families, Alian explained. Naomi thought that was nonsense, saying she would continue to cook and clean as always.

"Now, Auntie," Alian said with a smile, "grinding grain and cooking for the three of us is different than doing those chores for up to twelve hungry men. For now, you and Salome may be able to handle the chores, but eventually you will need help. You are no spring chicken, and as a widow of some means, Salome probably is not accustomed to hard work. The men who live here pay you for the privilege, so money will not be a problem. It would be better to have live-in help than to expect some poor soul to get up before the cock crows so she could be here early enough to grind grain."

With a sigh, Naomi conceded that perhaps Alian was right and, at my urging, agreed to interview possible candidates for the positions of cook, housekeeper, gatekeeper and livestock handler. Although I was the owner of the Inn, Naomi was the eldest and I was glad to defer to her in matters of business and the running of a household. I had never had a servant and all of my business transactions had involved men and payment for clandestine services.

It was no surprise to either Alain or me when Naomi's choice for cook was a scrawny young girl named Matred, who looked like she was scared of her shadow. Naomi had a habit of collecting those down on their luck. Matred came with her simpleminded brother, Korah, who was a shy beanpole with a habit of slumping his shoulders and staring at his feet. He indicated he would be more than happy to muck out stalls, feed animals and even wring the necks of fowl destined for the dinner table.

Her choice for housekeeper, though, was a bit more of a shock. The woman was huge and gruff. Judith's eyes had a way of darting back and forth that appeared furtive. Her voice was as deep as a man's. She wielded a broom like a weapon. One could as easily imagine her holding a hapless man in a hammerlock while scrubbing the dirt out of a boarder's clothing. Her mate, our new gatekeeper, was a physical match for Judith, but where she was gruff and furtive, Talmai was jolly and open. He told jokes and then laughed until the house shook. He even slapped Judith playfully on the rump, an action I could not imagine her tolerating, but she did nothing.

Our strange household gradually settled in. Alian had no duties other than to act as bodyguard and so he often left during the day to check on his farm, but he was always there for the evening meal. I did the marketing and instructed the cook and housekeeper. Naomi kept the books and dealt with prospective boarders. Our evenings were often spent pleasantly on the roof, with my informal instruction into the ways of Yahweh continuing. Alian once again joined us most evenings, and I found I had missed his insights during the time our household was separated.
On one such quiet evening, our discussion was interrupted by a commotion in the street, followed by a loud knocking at the gate. Since Talmai had already retired for the evening, Alian went to answer the summons. Before he was close enough to call out the customary, "Who," a voice outside called loudly, "Hurry! This man needs a healer, now!"

At this, Naomi and I jumped up. "Get lamps and take them to the rooftop," Naomi instructed me. "Then make sure the water jar is full. I may need to clean wounds. I will go down and see how badly the man is injured."

As Naomi and I reached the top of the stairs, Alian threw open the gate. Light spilled into the courtyard and discordant voices vied with one another as men staggered in holding the edges of a cloth on which a bloody form lay. As Alian led them across the courtyard toward the arched opening, I ran to do Naomi's bidding. I gathered the lamps from each of our rooms, only to discover they were unneeded. As I came out of Alian's room I saw the backs of men heading up the stairway. The one in the rear was holding high a large torch. Since I could not ascend the now crowded stairway, I hurried to the back courtyard and filled a jar with water from the kitchen supply and carried it to the roof in case Naomi needed more water.

When I topped the stairs, I sat the jar down and turned toward the pandemonium in the center of the roof. Naomi was bent over a still form on a bloody blanket. She was cutting away his clothing while instructing Alian to hold a cloth tightly to a wound in the abdomen. A stranger was pouring water into a bowl for Naomi, while another held the torch. Three other men huddled to the side, staring at the man and talking in low voices.

Without looking up, Naomi seemed to sense my presence. "Salome," she called. "Bring me the bottle on the far end of the bottom shelf. The liquid in the jar helps to slow bleeding in open wounds."

I quickly located the jar and carried it to Naomi, trying not to look at the man or the blood, because my stomach felt queasy.

As I approached, I heard Naomi say, "I assume he received this injury at a tavern. I smell the reek of alcohol. That may be a blessing since alcohol can dull pain."

As she took the jar from my hand, she continued, "Tell me quickly what happened so I will know what injuries he might have sustained. Sometimes the injuries are on the inside. Those can kill quickly."

One of the men replied, "Yes, mistress, this happened at a tavern. We were all drinking and talking. This one was at a table in the corner of the room with several other men. Suddenly he yelled, 'Take that back,' and jumped to his feet. He lunged across the table at a man on the other side, knocking him to the floor. The other man quickly regained his feet and the two began to fight. Although this one was much smaller, he was quick and hit the larger man several times. When he hit him in the stomach, the other man bent over as though gasping for air and came up with a knife in his hand. He stabbed upward, making the wound in his belly. This one grabbed the wrist of the man with the knife and they struggled. The big man hit this one a blow to the side of the head with his free arm, just as this one pushed the knife hand forcibly. The larger man ended up with the knife in his heart. This man fell backwards, hitting his head on the table and landed on the floor unconscious."

"Where are the other two from the table?" Alian asked. "They would know what the argument was about."

"It does not matter," Naomi interjected sharply. "Right now this man is barely alive. With a blow to the head, the longer he is unconscious, the more dangerous it becomes."

As she spoke, Naomi poured the liquid I had brought over the open wound, after instructing Alian to remove the cloth long enough to allow her to do so and to reapply pressure as soon as she was finished. When she did, the man on the pallet let out a low moan, the first sign that he was alive. At his cry, I involuntarily looked at his bruised face. That was when I swooned.

I sat up, sputtering from the water unceremoniously dashed in my face. I found myself staring into the derisive grin of a stranger.

"Get a grip, Salome," Alian said tersely from his position beside the injured man. "This is no time for a weak stomach. Naomi needs our help."

"Sorry," I stammered, glaring at the man who had taken such pleasure in facilitating my arousal. As I struggled to my feet, I was glad of the dim light on the roof, since my garments had not been spared during my rude awakening and clung revealingly to my feminine frame. I was even more relieved when the men, who had carried the injured stranger, shortly took their leave.

Having no medicinal skills, I simply acted as courier for Naomi and Alian, fetching, holding and cleansing as directed. Eventually, Naomi bandaged the abdominal wound, which she had packed with herbs. She mixed some sort of elixir that she managed to dribble down the man's throat. When she tiredly sat back on her haunches, lines of fatigue and worry were etched on her kindly face. As she stretched her hand toward the matted hair where dried blood covered the head wound, Alian intervened.

"You must rest, Aunt Naomi," he stated. "Let Salome and I clean the head wound. The bleeding is stopped. While he has quite a knot on his head, I do not think the skull was penetrated. You have done what you can. His life is in Yahweh's hands now."

"I suppose you are right," Naomi replied with a sigh. "Give him a bit of the tonic every hour or so. Get him to take a swallow or two if possible. If he regains consciousness, try to keep him awake and rouse me immediately."

With these instructions, Naomi retrieved bedding and made a pallet near the edge of the roof. For a few minutes I heard her softly chanting a prayer and then her breathing steadied into the quite sounds of slumber.

The man's hair was so matted onto the head wound that I suggested that Alian heat some water for me to use to cleanse the area. After he left, I slowly reached out a hand and gently touched the cheek of the young patient.

"What has brought you here, Sallu?" I murmured softly. Then I began to sing quietly, "He found him in a desert land and in the wasteland, a howling wilderness; He encircled him. He instructed him. He kept him as the apple of His eye. As an eagle stirs up its nest, hovers over its young, spreading out its wings, taking them up, carrying them on its wings, so the Lord alone led him."

When Alian returned with water, I gently began to cleanse the head wound. Eventually the matted blood softened, and I was able to loosen the hair and apply ointment to the cut, which, as Alian predicted, turned out to be superficial. Finally I placed the man's head in my lap and tried to coax him to swallow some of Naomi's mixture. The first bit I dribbled into his mouth simply rolled back out, so I began to run my fingers soothingly down his neck, hoping to induce a swallowing response. As I felt his neck muscles begin to relax under my ministrations, I again trickled a bit of liquid into his mouth. This time he swallowed. Encouraged, I poured a bit more into his mouth. This time he sputtered and then groaned.

"Come on," I interjected quietly. "Open your eyes. We need your help if you are to heal."

A protracted moan was the only response.

"Please," I pled. "Open your eyes. Tell us where you hurt. Drink some of this medicinal draught."

Even though I spoke softly, Naomi materialized by my side.

"Can you tell us your name, young man?" she questioned.

"What difference does it make?" he slurred, without opening his eyes.

"None, really," Naomi answered. "I just need you to talk to me so I can tell how the head injury may have affected you."

"Obviously not enough," he responded. "I'm not dead."

"Was that the plan?" Naomi countered "Assisted suicide?"

"There was no plan," he stated flatly. "I was just wandering without purpose, looking for a diversion from my gloomy thoughts."

"Well, you certainly found one," Naomi replied caustically. "And you provided one for us too."

I looked in surprise at Alian, who was standing behind the crouching Naomi. I had never heard her speak so harshly to anyone; it was so out of character.

"Shock value," Alian mouthed, correctly reading the question in my eyes.

"If you do not wish to divulge your name," Naomi continued. "Perhaps you would like to share the reason for your doom and gloom. Why do you want to throw away Yahweh's blessing of life?"

"Samson's gone," he said dully.

"And so our nation is without its super hero," Naomi responded. "That is no reason to give up."

"He was just a fable to you," the youth responded. "He was not just any hero to me; he was my personal champion. He was just a cousin, but he treated me like I was somebody. When my older brothers scorned me, he talked to me. He told me the secrets of his heart. To him I was not just the sixth son, a nobody. To him I was the brother he never had. Others mourned his passing, but they rejoiced in his supposed victory over the Philistines. I cannot find victory in his death. I would join him if I had the courage."

"And so you provoked someone," Naomi noted. "But you must not want to die as badly as you say. You are the one lying on my healing couch. The death lament is for another."

"I would have gladly let him gouge my heart, but he scorned Samson. He. . ."

I could no longer listen to the tirade. Unceremoniously, I shifted the man's head from my lap, cutting short his retort, the sudden movement jarring his broken body. As he let out a surprised whimper, I stood, saying, "I am sorry to disrupt this touching tableau, but I am filthy and tired. I will cleanse myself and rest. Afterwards I will spell whoever is keeping vigil here."