Josiah and Hamutal

  This is an excerpt from my someday/one day magnum opus of the life of the prophet Jeremiah and the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC/BCE. Mine is a fictional account, but I try to stay true to the biblical intent and historical facts.
   In this snippet, good King Josiah is reconciling with his childhood bride. [From what I have been able to find in scripture, Josiah fathered children when he was still a child himself. Somewhere along the line, he had a child by another woman.] It's time to get Josiah back with his first love.
   Having said all that, please enjoy a sweet little romance.

I/E. JERUSALEM OUTSIDE KING JOSIAH’S HOUSE - EVENING

   Three ragged MUSICIANS play a harp, flute and small drum in the street below Josiah’s window.
   Inside, Hamutal sits on a love seat, ramrod straight, nervous.
   King Josiah leans out the window. He watches the musicians for a moment. They have the look of old men in teenage bodies. The floutist closes his eyes while he plays.

JOSIAH: Hey, down there!

The DRUMMER stops. He kneels, tugs the cloaks of his partners. They also kneel.

DRUMMER: Sir?
JOSIAH: Play something sweet. With good rhythm.

   Josiah tosses them three gold coins.

DRUMMER: Yes, sir!

   Josiah turns to Hamutal. She chews her lip. Tries to smile.

JOSIAH: Hamutal, do you like to dance?
HAMUTAL: Very much, Sir.
JOSIAH: Please call me Josiah.
HAMUTAL: Yes, Sir. (suppresses a giggle) I mean Josiah.
JOSIAH: Let’s dance.
HAMUTAL: Together?

   Josiah gestures widely.

JOSIAH: Why not? I hear they do that in other countries.
HAMUTAL: Really?
JOSIAH: Scandalous, isn’t it? I hear they even hold hands. Like this.

   Josiah gently takes her hands. Hamutal rises, her dress swirling like liquid silk. He leads her to the middle of the room.

HAMUTAL: Now what do we do? I don’t think two people can do the hora.

   Josiah puts on hand in the small of her back. He steps softly to the music. She looks down at his feet and tries to mirror his steps.

   Josiah closes his eyes. He inhales her scent.

JOSIAH: I’ll never forget how good you smelled the day I met you. You came from the sea.

   Hamutal steps on the edge of her dress, misses a step. Josiah doesn’t notice.

JOSIAH: Your hair was damp and tangled. I was all sandy and so cold. I didn’t think I’d like the water.
HAMUTAL: You didn’t.
JOSIAH: Not at first. But after I met you, I loved going to the sea. I wanted to smell your hair again, salty and wild and fresh. I didn’t know that one day the pretty girl collecting seashells would be my wife.
HAMUTAL: We were married only a week later.
JOSIAH: The longest wait of my life. I found a friend. Before you, I never really had one. I had my teachers and my mother, but never a friend.

   Hamutal smiles.

HAMUTAL: We had fun, didn’t we? I never really played before I met you. You brought joy into my chores. Papa said a better life awaited me. I remember he suddenly had money and bought me things. Mama didn’t cry as much. Then I kissed them goodbye.

   They stop dancing, gaze into each other’s eyes.

JOSIAH: I’m sorry you had to leave them.
HAMUTAL: You didn’t cause that.

   They are interrupted by sudden YELLING outside the window. The music stops.
   Josiah leans out the window.

JOSIAH: What is this disturbance?

   A grumpy NEIGHBOR shakes his fist at the Drummer.

NEIGHBOR: I said I wanted it quiet!

   The Musicians huddle together.
   The Neighbor falters, looks up at Josiah’s window. He falls to his knees.

NEIGHBOR: Your highness!

   Josiah raises his voice so the neighborhood can hear.

JOSIAH: People of Jerusalem! Your King is speaking!

   Lights flicker in windows. Heads peek out of doors.

JOSIAH: People of Jerusalem! Husbands of Jerusalem! I command you this night to make your wives deliriously happy. You will ask them and you will do what they desire! I want to see lots of smiling women tomorrow morning! I will have music and singing! Husbands of Jerusalem! I so decree!

   The FLUTE player sticks out his tongue at the Neighbor.
   Josiah holds up another gold coin.

JOSIAH: Musicians.
DRUMMER: Yes, Your Highness?
JOSIAH: Play for me. Do not stop until I tell you.
DRUMMER, HARPIST, FLUTE PLAYER: Yes, Sir!

   Josiah bows to Hamutal.

JOSIAH: May I have this dance?

   Hamutal enters his embrace. They dance gently.

HAMUTAL: Josiah?
JOSIAH: Mm?
HAMUTAL: Does the decree of the King hold for you?
JOSIAH: Mm.
HAMUTAL: Because you can’t make me deliriously happy.

   Josiah snaps out of his revery.

JOSIAH: What?
HAMUTAL: You can’t make me happy, because I already am.

   Outside, the musicians play sweet, romantic music.

EXT. JOSIAH’S WINDOW - MORNING
   Josiah, bare chested, leans out the window, breathes deeply.
   In the street below, the three ragged Musicians sleep. The Harpist’s fingers are still on his harp.