Karem stood munching on a raisin cake, a luxury their mother saved for her eldest son. Her brothers Joa and Karem were waiting by the door. In a haze, Rahab followed him, her gaze glued to his stooping back. Without bothering with an answer, he walked outside. Her father’s lips flattened into a tight line. Rahab sucked in her breath just as her mother let out an agitated wail. If I find nothing growing there today, I am giving up. The east field where I planted flax fared even worse. Turning to his wife he said, The north and west fields are barren. Giving her father a tight hug she said, Good morning, Abba. Rahab finished tying her sash with a quick motion and snatched a piece of hard barley cake that would serve as breakfast and noonday meal. His face, pale and drawn, glistened with sweat.

Her father entered the room, chewing halfheartedly on a piece of stale bread. She could move no faster if the king’s armies were at the door. Rahab, who had already folded her bedroll and was almost finished dressing, continued her silent preparations at the same pace. She couldn’t bear the thought of his despair. Though she knew their efforts to be wasted, every day she pushed herself almost past endurance because as long as they stayed busy, her Abba had hope. Like the rest of Canaan, Jericho was in the grip of a brutal drought. Their land had produced nothing but dust. It was useless-even at fifteen and only a girl she could see that. For two months she had been doing the work of men, waking before daybreak and wrestling the land all day with little food, water, or rest to renew her strength. Every muscle protested the simple movement, and she winced in pain. Rahab groaned and gave up on rest, forcing herself to rise from her pallet. Her mother gave her one more unnecessary shove. Your brothers and father are almost ready to leave. Rahab tumbled into consciousness courtesy of an impatient nudge.

Pearl in the Sand by Tessa Afshar