Bathsheba

 

          “I despise you with my very soul and my very being for doing what you did and

for bringing me here!” Is that too harsh? I don’t know what to say to him, why not be

harsh? After all, this is entirely David’s fault. We live in the same palace and eventually

we’ll cross paths. But what would I say if we did? What if, walking to dinner, we went

past each other? I don’t know what I would say, what I would do. I know that I don’t

want him to ignore me. Not that that’s hard, he does have seven other wives.

 

            I could try opening with “Hey, David, thanks for killing my husband and getting

me pregnant. That was extra special considering out baby got sick and now he’s dead too.

Great, David, thank you so much for making my life that much better.” How is he so

selfish? All he’s doing about this situation is depriving himself of food as he prays in the

temple to his god. I hope he starves to death. Does he think that this doesn’t affect me?

Does he not realize that I loved that baby too? Is he stupid?

           

Maybe I should say that if I see him: “David, you’re stupid” because that’s how I

feel. I should just say what’s on my mind. I could say that this isn’t okay, that I’m not

okay. David was supposed to be at war with his soldiers, with my husband. Instead he’s

up in the palace, on the roof, looking down at me. What was he thinking? And how could

I have said no? I can’t say no to the king’s request and risk execution. Am I just a play

thing for him, another man’s toy that he broke and had to fix?

           

Pathetic, that’s what it is. Pathetic. Insulting. Pathetic. Insulting. Pathetic, and

now I’m pathetic for comparing myself to these seven other women because I’ve been

added to his little collection because he’s King David and he does whatever he wants.

           

Perhaps if I see him I should just turn around and say that I’m sorry. “David, I just

want to say that I am sorry. I’m sorry about what we did, even though you left me no

choice in the matter. And even though you keep making me feel like I am so much worse

that you. Even though you killed my husband…even though my baby is gone…even

though you brought me here (raises hands) just to ignore me and abandon me…”

           

It hurt, it did, but it doesn’t anymore because I’m numb now. “Are you hearing

me David? It doesn’t matter ‘cause I don’t feel anything. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. I

don’t love him. I don’t love him and I don’t need him to love me, but I do need him. I

knew that we wouldn’t be some happy couple, but seeing him this way? I’m mad that

need him, but he is the only person I know here. The other wives just whisper behind my

back and I feel so lonely. David’s face is the only familiar one and I need him to reassure

me that everything’s going to be okay.

           

I know that it’s stupid and that I should just get over it. But I’m angry with him,

and I’m upset and confused…and being ignored hurts. And Uriah…my dear husband. I

could just look across the room, meet his gaze, and we’d know exactly what the other

was thinking. He always had this stupid smirk on his face, half the time I never knew

what he was laughing at. He was just getting a patch of grey in his beard, one of the last

thing’s I did when he was alive was make fun of him for getting old. And my baby was

so little and he fit so nicely in my arms. He’d look up at me with his bright eyes, just

trying to focus on my own. I thought I was going to break him when I held him. If I close

my eyes I can still smell him, I can still feel the warmth of his body. And now David’s

just sitting in the temple, apologizing to God and trying to get him to forgive him for

being such an idiot. Which he is! And he is so…he is so…much…better than I. Because

he’s moved on. He’s allowed God to forgive him. No wonder he’s so conceited, that jerk,

he’s so good. I should be there with him. (pause) We did something awful, he did

something awful, and it’s going to stay with him forever. He’s praying in the temple, and

I should be there with him. Because I’m not there, I’m here. Lonely. Bitter. Stuck.

Unforgiving. Oh sure, he did something awful,  but if I’m dwelling, day after day, on all

the wrongs done to me while he’s being forgiven by God, then I’m going to keep dying

day after day.

           

Hi, David. I just want you to know that it hurts…that it isn’t fair…but (sigh) I

forgive you. (Knock) David.