Samson entered the chief tent and was immediately addressed.
“Where have you come in from son?” Manoah asked of his big boy.
Samson removed his belt and hung it. He rubbed his eyes then looked to his father’s eyes to see if he would even hear it, if he should give reply. Manoah was still looking at him, waiting, but Manoah’s patience for the answer was already running out. Samson saw it and decided to develop the situation.
“Father would you like to hear where I have come in from?”
Now Manoah was annoyed. But with a softer, more patient voice, Manoah tried to focus, and he answered, “Yes son, I am listening, tell me where you have come in from.”
“I have come in from Timnah. Today the Pelestine fathers debated at the gate and gave the news.” That was all Samson told.
He could see his father grow even more impatient. “Father where have you come in from? Or what do you think of the Pelestines’ debatings? Which of these should we talk of?”
The air between them was charged for just a moment, with the challenge. But then the challenge ripened, and in a sudden, Manoah widened his eyes and appeared to break away from a sort of spell. Manoah stood on his feet and said, “Shemesh my son let us breathe the pipe, so we can speak of the Pelestines’ debates.”
“Father I will get the cups.”
The air was just right for it, as the sun was cooling, and a low wind seemed to bring other parts of the world to them. The outdoors’ evening time felt large, and perhaps this is what sometimes opened up their words to each other.