He had really enjoyed being with her, for the desert could be a lonely place. His chief occupation was twofold, keeping Abram’s flocks and raising Zara, whom he considered to be a daughter or perhaps a younger sister. Hagar had not overwhelmed him with her attentions, and he had slowly begun to enjoy the times they spent together. She mostly came to him when he was out watching the sheep and listened to him talk. He had grown more talkative of late and was happy to find that he had someone to talk to.
More than that, he had discovered that she still was attracted to him. More and more he thought of his single condition, his lack of a family, and the more he thought of it, the more it seemed clear to him that Hagar needed a husband and he needed a wife. He never formulated these ideas into words, but neither did he run from her as he once had.
One evening, on the return trip from Sodom, they were walking together. The moon was full and brilliant, bathing them in silver light.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Hagar said quietly.
“It is. Look at that moon. You could almost reach up and touch it.”
“Let me see you try,” she teased him.
“Well, maybe not quite touch it. But it is beautiful.”
As they continued to talk, Eliezer had a sense of well-being in her presence. They reached her tent, and he paused for a moment. “It’s so quiet tonight.”
“The others are asleep, I guess. But I hate to go to sleep. Every night I hate it.”
“Why? Are you afraid?”
“Oh no. Just afraid I’ll miss something.”
Eliezer smiled. “You wouldn’t miss much tonight. Nothing much is happening.”
“I suppose not.”
Hagar made no move toward him, for she had made that mistake before. She simply smiled at him and waited.
Eliezer said, “You know we had a misunderstanding once, but I’m glad we’re back together now—friends.”
“So am I, Eliezer. I missed you.”
“Really?”
“Why, of course I did. You should know that.”
“Well, I knew I missed you.”
Hagar lifted her eyes to him. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said quietly.
She was a bewitchingly attractive woman, and Eliezer slowly reached out for her. He was half apprehensive, but she still made no move toward him. This slight sign of modesty pleased him. He pulled her forward and kissed her lightly on the lips, waiting for her response. Her lips were warm, and she put her hands on his shoulders but that was all.
“You’re sweet, Hagar,” he said huskily.
Eliezer heard a sound and turned to see Zara standing there, her face in shock. Without a word she whirled and ran away.
“Zara!” Eliezer said, troubled at the girl’s expression.
“She’ll be all right. She’s just jealous,” Hagar said.
“Jealous!”
“Why, she’d be jealous of any woman you liked. Didn’t you know that?”
“I never thought about it.” Now Eliezer was even more worried. “I’d better go talk to her.”
“Yes, you had. She’s a sweet child. She needs a mother, I suppose—a woman to help her get through this age.”
“I’ve thought of that myself,” Eliezer said. He did not see the expression on Hagar’s face but added, “I’ll see you in the morning. I’d better go talk to her.”
“Good night. I enjoyed being with you,” Hagar called after him. A smile was on her face as she turned into her tent. “That was just right,” she said with satisfaction. “I played the role perfectly.”
Eliezer hurried to find Zara. He called out when he saw her standing on the outskirts of the camp. “Zara?”
“What do you want?”
“Can we talk?”
“I suppose so.” She was standing with her arms folded, staring at him.
He approached her slowly. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right. What could be wrong with me?”
Zara’s voice was cold, unlike her usual warm tone, and Eliezer saw that she was upset. He felt he had to straighten things out and said gently, “Look, Zara, you’re starting to grow up now.”
“Oh, really! Fifteen years, and I’m starting to grow up.”
“Well, you know what I mean. You’re not a child anymore.”
“Thank you!”
Eliezer was confused. “Nothing I say seems right,” he said. “But you know how it is with a man.”
“No. Tell me.”
“Well, a man and a woman sometimes grow fond of each other.”
“Yes, I saw how fond you were of Hagar.”
“It was just a little kiss. That’s all it was.”
Tears sprang to Zara’s eyes. Not tears that she willed but those that came without her bidding. She was furious at herself and blinked them away. “You’re free to kiss anybody you want to, Eliezer! But I’ll tell you this. She doesn’t love you.”
“You just don’t understand these things, Zara.”
Zara knew she was behaving like a child but could not help it. “I may understand a few more things than you know.”
Eliezer knew that Zara was too upset to talk rationally, so he suggested that they return to their tents. He was certain things would be better in the morning. They would be home soon—things could return to normal.
When they reached the tent Zara shared with Hagar, Eliezer stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Zara. Sleep well and don’t worry about…anything.”
“Good night,” Zara muttered, turning away.
As soon as Eliezer disappeared, Zara stormed into the tent and threw herself down on her mattress, ignoring Hagar. As she began to weep, she stuffed her fist against her lips to keep any sound from escaping and whispered bitterly, “She doesn’t love him, and he’s too blind to see it.”
****
Abram made his report as soon as he came back with his party. “It was the worst visit you could imagine. Everybody was miserable. I hated it. Eliezer hated it, and Zara had a terrible time.”
“I’ll bet Hagar didn’t hate it.”
“Well, no. As a matter of fact, she didn’t. Come to think of it, on the way there and back, she had a fine time. She and Eliezer seemed to be hitting it off again.”
“What did Zara say about that?”
“Zara? She didn’t say anything. Why should she?”
“Because she’s very possessive of Eliezer. He’s all she has.”
“Well, the way Eliezer was grinning at Hagar, I think she’s going to have to share him with her.”
“She’ll never do that,” Sarai said firmly.
“Anyway, I tried to talk Lot into leaving again, but, as usual, it was a total failure. Meri refuses even to discuss it.”
“It’s so sad. Lot is such a good man, but that awful woman has done nothing but bring him grief.”
“You’re right, and I’m worried sick about it. Something terrible is going to happen. Lot’s stood against the sin of that place for a long time, but he can’t go on forever.”
Chapter 23
From far off came the sound of a dog barking frantically, but Eliezer did not even hear it. He stood straight, his back stiff, and stared at the young man who stood across from him. He knew him well and treasured him as one of his best herdsmen. Eliezer had always had a ready smile for him, but he was not smiling now. Instead his voice was harsh as he asked, “What did you say, Bor?”
The young man with the diminutive name seemed to wilt under Eliezer’s glance. He had found Eliezer standing alone, staring out over the fields as he often did, appearing to be counting sheep. Bor had been apprehensive when he first spoke, and now seeing the hard glint in his employer’s eyes, he cleared his throat and said, “Well…I said, sir, that I would like to—” He broke off and seemed to have run completely out of steam. He straightened up and said as strongly as he could manage, “I would like to have Zara for my wife.”
“Zar
a for your wife?”
“Well, yes, sir, I would. I love her, and I would be very good to her.”
“What makes you ask a thing like this of me?”
The question was too much for Bor to handle. He was not a loquacious young man in the first place, and Eliezer’s steely glance seemed to have sucked all the words out of him. He looked down at his feet and mumbled, “Yes, sir. Sir, I love her, and I…I would be very good to her.”
“You said that already. How old are you?”
“I am eighteen.”
“Eighteen years old, and you want to get married to Zara?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Have you spoken to her about this?”
“Oh no, sir. I knew better than that.” Bor was slightly shocked at the idea of going over Eliezer’s head. “I wanted to get your permission first. Everyone knows you’re like a father to her. The closest thing she has, that is.”
Eliezer stared at the young man. He was a good worker. He was steady and could be depended on to tend sheep, but he was not a handsome man, being extremely skinny and having a homely face. “I will speak to you about this later.”
“Yes, sir.” Bor wheeled and walked away with a mixture of relief and fear on his face.
Eliezer watched him go off and thought, He’s so awkward—and as plain as my ugliest sheep! This was not exactly true, but Eliezer was disturbed. He turned and went about his business, but all day long he thought about Bor’s request, and that night he waited until dark to go to Zara. He found her seated in front of her tent, brushing her long dark hair, and sat down across from her.
“It’s been a hot day,” Zara said.
“Yes, it has.”
Zara waited for him to speak. She knew he was mulling something over, for she had learned to read his moods. She was eighteen years old now and a full-grown woman in every respect. For a time she had been like a young donkey foal, all legs and stumbling over things, but the past two years had wrought a miracle of maturity in her. She had grown taller, and her figure had matured, and despite the modest clothes that she wore, she drew men’s eyes. She had also developed a more certain manner, especially where Eliezer was concerned. For years she had known exactly how to handle him, and now she said gently, “What is it, Eliezer? I can tell you’re troubled.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s bothering you? You can’t hide it from me. You never could.”
Eliezer grinned ruefully. “No, I never could. I think you can see right through to my head.”
“And your heart too.”
Eliezer stared at her, wondering what that meant. He knew that for some time she had been apprehensive that he might marry Hagar. In truth he was still attracted to the woman, but something held him back. Hagar had grown impatient with him, but not harsh, so he still kept going back to her, wondering if she was the right woman for him.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Your face is easy to read, and you never could conceal anything.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“I think it is, but most men have a lot to conceal. You don’t.”
“How do you know? I may be stealing sheep from Abram. I might be running with those wild bedouin girls over in the next camp. You don’t know what I do.”
Zara simply smiled and continued brushing her hair. “Yes I do,” she said. “Now, what’s bothering you?”
Eliezer threw up his hands. “I give up,” he said. “Well, Bor came to me today, and you’ll never guess what he wanted.”
“He wanted me for his wife.”
Eliezer stared at the young woman. She had spoken with complete ease and was not at all excited or troubled. There was a serenity about her that pleased Eliezer. But sometimes he wondered if she didn’t need more spirit. “Well, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“What for? Why should I be ashamed?”
“Because you’ve obviously been encouraging him.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve tried to tell him many times I would never marry him.”
Eliezer’s face changed so completely that Zara put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “You’re happy now. I can see it in your face.”
“Blast it, Zara. Stop reading my mind!”
“Well, you are glad, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to marry a puppy like that.”
Zara was amused at Eliezer. He often thought he was being so profound, yet she could read him easily. “Do you want me to tell you the names of the other puppies that have been asking me to marry them?”
“You mean they come to you behind my back?”
“Yes. They’re afraid of you.”
“Afraid of me? My men aren’t afraid of me.”
“That’s what you think!”
“Well, I’ve never harmed a one of them.”
“They’re afraid of displeasing you. And, besides, they know you’d never agree to let me marry any of them.”
Eliezer stared at Zara. “What makes you say a thing like that?”
“Well, you don’t want me to marry any of them, do you?”
Eliezer blinked with surprise and began to think. Zara could read his thoughts as clearly as if they were printed on his forehead, but she waited for him to work it out. Finally he said, “Well, obviously, Zara, you must marry…someday. Maybe not very soon.”
“You never said that before. And you’ve never married.”
“That’s different.”
“I don’t see why. Why haven’t you married?”
Zara sat there while Eliezer lumbered along, trying to put his thoughts and feelings into words. He tried to explain love and marriage to her, but she felt pity for him. He’s so smart in every way except about women and love, she thought. And he’s just a baby. That woman’s got her claws into him, and he doesn’t even know it. She forced Hagar out of her mind and smiled as Eliezer continued to explain the intricacies of courtship and marriage. From time to time she would say, “Really! Is that right? I would never have thought of that,” with a straight face while inwardly laughing.
Finally Eliezer ran out of words, and Zara asked, “Do you think you’ll ever marry, Eliezer?”
“Why, I don’t know. I suppose I will.”
Zara waited for him to go on, but Eliezer felt strangely uncomfortable. “Well, I’m glad we got this straightened out about Bor. He’s a good herdsman, but he is no husband for you.”
“Thank you, Eliezer, for helping me with my decision.”
After Eliezer left, Zara went to Sarai’s tent. She found Sarai softening a lambskin, carefully scraping it with a sharp blade. “Mistress, let me do that.”
“No, I like to do it. What have you been up to?”
Sarai listened as Zara related the scene she had just had with Eliezer. “He’s so transparent, mistress,” Zara said with some exasperation. “He’s so simple in some ways—just like a child.”
“Where women are concerned he is a child.”
Zara reached out and took Sarai’s free hand. “I think, mistress, you can read my heart as easily as I can read Eliezer’s.”
“Of course I can. If he weren’t blind, he could read it for himself. You love him, don’t you?”
“I’ve loved him since I was eight years old. First like a child—but not any longer.”
“No, like a woman now.”
The two women talked quietly, and finally Zara said bitterly, “It’s that Hagar! He can’t get her out of his mind. Why can’t he see her for what she is?”
“Women have a power to cloud men’s minds.”
Zara was fascinated by this statement. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ve seen men who were perfectly sensible in every way except where a woman was concerned. One of the best friends I ever had back in Ur was a man called Mapor. He was so intelligent and gifted, but he was in love with the worst woman i
n the world. Everyone knew it except him. She slept with half the men in the camp, and many more, but he never had the least idea of it. He was like a man born blind.”
“And you think Eliezer is that way about Hagar?”
“Yes, he is. I’ve wanted to shake him, and I’ve tried to tell him about Hagar. But he can’t see it.”
“If Hagar would get married, that would take her out of his mind.”
Sarai suddenly looked across at her young friend. Her voice was strangely tight when she spoke, and Zara saw a strange expression in her eyes. “Something like that may happen,” she said. “And you’re right. That would take her off of Eliezer’s mind. He’s too good a young man to go to another man’s wife.”
Zara did not understand what she had seen in Sarai’s face. When she left, Sarai held the knife in her hand and felt the soft texture of the lambskin, but her mind was elsewhere. She had a preoccupied look, and finally she said, “Yes, it’s what I must do.”
****
Sarai watched as Abram read the scrolls that were so important to him. Some of them came from his grandfather Nahor, who had written down some of the history of his people. Abram must have them memorized by now, Sarai thought as she watched him peering at the parchments, but he never tires of them. She waited until he wrapped them up carefully and put them away, then said to him, “I need to talk to you, husband.”
Abram looked over at Sarai and studied her face. He saw something there that kept him silent for a moment, and then he came over and sat down beside her. “What is it? Is it trouble?”
“You’re eighty-six years old, and I’m seventy-six.”
“I know that. But you don’t look like a seventy-six-year-old.”
“I feel like one,” Sarai said quietly. She did not speak for a time, and Abram waited patiently. It hurt him to see that she was troubled. Finally she said, “You don’t have a son, Abram.”
The stark statement shocked Abram. They did not talk about this problem often, had not, as a matter of fact, for years. Both of them always had in the back of their mind the promise of the Eternal One that Abram’s seed would one day become many. But years had gone by, and there had been no child. Sarai had ceased being of childbearing age many years ago, and neither of them had the bright hope they had once shared of an heir for Abram.
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