Signs and Wonders by Bernard Evslin

throats and brought them to his mother, who skinned and dressed them, then roasted them on a spit over an open fire, basting them in their own fat and spicing them with marjoram and wild thyme. She built her cooking fire upwind of Isaac’s tent so that the savory smoke drifted down to him. He was frantic with hunger by the time the meat was roasted.
    While the meal was being cooked, Jacob went to Esau’s tent, and, as Rebecca had bidden, took Esau’s garments from a chest and dressed himself in his brother’s clothes. Then Rebecca took the hairy goatskins and covered Jacob’s arms and the backs of his hands, and wrapped one about his smooth neck. She gave him a platter of smoking meat and said: “Go to him, and do as I have told you.”
    Isaac was sitting in his tent, seeking its cool shadows against the heat of the day as he waited for Esau to return. He knew it was too soon for Esau to have caught a deer, but his hunger made him impatient. Then he heard someone coming. He heard the portals of his tent being drawn aside. He heard a voice say, “Father.…”
    “Here I am. Who are you?”
    “I am Esau, your eldest son.”
    “Are you Esau?”
    “I have brought you what you wanted, a haunch of fresh-roasted venison. Come and eat … and bless me.”
    “You killed quickly, very quickly.”
    “He was a young buck, fair and prime, and very fleet of foot. But I knew how hungry you were, and God guided my arm. I felled him with my first arrow.… Why do you not eat? Are you not hungry?”
    “Starved … and confused, my son. My eyes are dim, and I cannot see. Come close that I may touch you.”
    Jacob came to his father and knelt before him. The old man strained his eyes; all he could see was a blur. But he smelled the odor of Esau’s garments, a special fragrance to him—of horse and woodsmoke, sunshine and crushed grass. His fingers groped slowly over the young man’s face and neck, down his arms. He grasped Jacob’s wrist and stroked the back of his hand.
    “The voice is the voice of Jacob,” he said. “But the hands are the hands of Esau.”
    “Shall I serve the meat, Father?”
    “Are you truly the son of my heart?” he murmured. “Are you he, my brave one, my bowman, of red rage and golden laughter, master of the chase? Are you my son, my furry one, fragrant of woodsmoke, the wild red Esau?”
    “I am he,” said Jacob.
    “Bring me the meat,” said Isaac. “I shall eat. And when I have eaten I shall bless you.”
    “Here is meat, Father. And wine. Eat, I pray you, and drink.”
    Isaac ate heavily, and drank up the flagon of wine. “Come here and kiss me,” he said.
    Jacob came and kissed him. Isaac touched the back of his hands again, stroking the hairy goatskin.
    “I bless you, firstborn,” he said. “And bequeath to you the special favor that the Lord showed to my father, Abraham, and to me afterward. Keeper of the covenant you shall be, inheritor of this land and father of nations.”
    “Do you bless me, Father?” murmured Jacob. “Do you bless him who kneels before you now?”
    “I bless the son who kneels before me now. For the smell of him is the smell of a field that the Lord has blessed. May God give you of the dew of heaven and the fatness of earth, and plenty of corn and wine. People shall serve you and nations bow down to you. You shall be lord over your brothers, and your mother’s sons shall bow down to you. Cursed be the one who curses you, and blessed be he who blesses you.”
    “Thank you, Father,” said Jacob.
    He arose, took platter and flagon, left the tent, and went to his mother.
    Isaac fell asleep but slept uneasily and dreamed. In his dream he heard the sound of a huntsman returning, the clamor of hounds, and the jingle of harness. It seemed to him that he heard the bawling, laughing voice of his son, Esau, shouting, “I am here, Father! Arise and eat!”
    Isaac’s soul quaked within him, and he tried to sink deeper into sleep and change his dream. But the