It was Esau’s custom to return from a hunting trip exhausted and hungry. If he arrived before supper was ready, he became angry if he wasn’t allowed to eat until everyone came in for the meal; if he came home after supper was finished, he was furious if food hadn’t been saved for him. So Jacob had taken to keeping a pot of soup or stew simmering by the fire from midafternoon on, whenever Esau was out on an expedition. Rebekah saw this and approved. It not only kept peace in the camp, it was also, or so she saw it, a chance for the brothers to become close.

Well into Midian’s second year with them, he came to Rebekah as she read to Isaac in the doorway of his tent. “Jacob asked me if the two of you would be willing to come to the tent near the cookfire.”

“What for?”

“He has something for you to hear.”

“Well, let him come and tell us himself,” said Rebekah. Isaac didn’t like to walk around the camp too much—it reminded everyone of his infirmity, to see how he had to be led wherever he went.

“It’s not something to tell, it’s something to hear. And it won’t work unless you’re quiet. Nobody should know you’re there.”

“No,” said Isaac. “It sounds like some kind of game and I’ve got better things to do.”

“It is a game, I guess,” said Midian. “Or a joke. A surprise, anyway.”

“A joke on whom?” asked Rebekah.

“That’s the surprise. But it’s not on either of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rebekah sighed. “It’s not as if Jacob asks us to do this all the time.”

“He’s a grown man, he shouldn’t be playing games.”

“You know that when he and Midian get in one of their moods, they become twelve-year-olds again.”

“Jacob was never twelve,” said Midian. “He was born thirty.”

“Believe me,” said Rebekah, “if that were true, I’d’ve remembered it.”

They ended up coming down the gentle slope to the storage shed near the cookfire. It was hotter there, and even though Jacob and Midian had cleared enough space in the shed for them to sit comfortably, the fact remained that it was poorly ventilated and soon both Isaac and Rebekah were sweating profusely.

“This is foolish,” said Isaac. “We’ve waited here long enough.”

“I agree,” said Rebekah. “There are limits to how much we should have to put up with for children who have beards.”

“If you can call them beards.”

Before they could leave, however, they heard a loud conversation going on behind the shed, near the cookfire. Voices were raised. And one voice was loudest of all.

“Esau’s home,” said Isaac.