Sarah: Women of Genesis: 1 (Women of Genesis (Forge)) (32 page)

“And when you consider that everything Hagar has accused me of has only two witnesses, her and me, I think it’s pretty astonishing that you would believe her completely and me not at all.”

“It is astonishing,” said Abram. “Because that’s what we’ve all been doing. Maybe just because we all expected you to be hurt by all this, and so anything that happened, we assumed was caused by the pain you were going through.”

“Well, the pain is real enough,” said Sarai. “And maybe that
has
changed the tone of my voice or the look on my face without my knowing it. But it hasn’t made me forget to treat the servants with courtesy. It hasn’t made me so disloyal as to do anything that would interfere with the health of the baby that’s growing in Hagar’s womb.”

“But Sarai, we had some idea of why you might be unkind to Hagar. What no one can figure out is why Hagar would be unkind to you. That’s why no one even imagined that she was lying.”

“I can’t figure it out myself,” said Sarai. “The best I can come up with is that after all her years in slavery, she’s learned to take advantage of any opportunity that comes up, no matter how much she has to lie. In Egypt, she was assigned to me—as a way of showing the contempt they had for me, she knew that. But she acted like my friend, treating me with complete loyalty because she was betting on my ability to get her out of the shameful place she occupied in the House of Women. And here, she acted like my friend because that kept her in the most advantageous position of any of the servants in the camp. She slept in the finest tent, she had the easiest labor, she had the greatest prestige among the servants. But she never was my friend, in her heart. That was just an act she put on. That’s what I think now. Because the moment she had your child in her, she had the upper hand over me. Now
she
was the mother of your heir-to-be. And all her hatred can finally come out. Now the way for her to gain the most from this situation is to weaken me, so that she can rise above me in your eyes and the eyes of everyone else in camp. And . . . it worked.”

“You really think she’s that evil?” asked Abram.

“No, I don’t think she’s evil,” said Sarai. “I think she’s a girl who had everything stolen from her as a child, and thinks that’s how the world works—you take everything you can the moment you can get it. She hears us talking about God and his commandments, but she doesn’t listen in order to find out the truth, she listens to us talk about God in order to find out how to use our belief in God to her own advantage. It’s not evil, it’s survival. She’s still struggling to survive.”

“Even if it means crushing you to do it.”

To hear Abram speak as if he believed her was such a relief that she could hardly answer. “Yes,” she said. “But if you believe in me, she can never crush me.”

“I do believe in you,” said Abram. “I love you with my whole heart, you’re the best gift God has ever given me.”

“Until Hagar’s son is born,” said Sarai.

He had no answer to that.

“And that’s why you believed her, Abram,” said Sarai. “Not just because you expected me to be upset. You believed her because she has your baby in her and your loyalty is with her, with the mother of your baby. And that’s why I need to leave here. I need to go back to Qira until the baby is born. And maybe forever. What I said about Asherah, that was my anger speaking. I would never turn my back on the Lord. But the Lord has turned his back on me. I have displeased him somehow, and so I’ve lost the respect of my husband and his people. I can’t live here without that respect. It would be wrong of you to ask me to.”

“It
would
be wrong, Sarai. But you do have my respect. I’ve been blinded, just as you say. But I’m not blinded now. You are my wife and my friend, closer to me than my brother Lot. I’ve lived all these years without children, and it caused me grief that only you could understand because you felt the same grief. But if I had to choose between you, without children, and any other woman in the world, with a dozen children, I would choose you.”

He had said it before. And she had always believed it. But she didn’t believe it now. It was sweet of him to say it, and she wouldn’t argue, but it was obviously untrue.

“Sarai,” said Abram, “I am with you on this. I put Hagar into your hands. You are her judge. Whatever you say, I will do.”

Sarai was filled with despair. “I don’t want to do anything to Hagar,” she said. “I don’t want to judge her. I just want to go on with my life as it was before. Let her be the pregnant woman with everyone pampering her, and let me go on being mistress of the camp and helping you with your work as I always have.”

“But that isn’t happening,” said Abram.

“Because Hagar won’t let it happen.”

“So something must be done,” said Abram.

“Yes,” said Sarai. “And it’s your job, not mine, to do it.”

“And I will,” said Abram. “But as you said, I’m not able to see what’s happening. So I have to rely on you to judge and tell me what to do to solve the problem.”

She wanted to throw a pillow at him to wake him up to what he was doing. Because she knew what his words meant. He still didn’t believe her. He still thought she was misjudging Hagar and being unfair to the girl. By giving her such power over Hagar, he was hoping that she would feel more confident and less resentful and so, by being kinder to Hagar, allow peace to return to the camp. He was, in other words, “handling” the situation.

“As you say,” said Sarai, knowing she would not use the power Abram had given her. Instead she would stay away from the business of the camp, keep some servant child near her and work with distaff, needle, or loom. She would become, in other words, a servant in her husband’s house, and leave the wifely position to the woman who coveted it so.

And then, as soon as she decently could, she’d arrange to go visit Qira in Sodom and then delay her return. She would think back on her marriage to Abram as the brightest, most beautiful part of her life, as treasured memories. But it was all over now. Hagar had that place. And that’s how Abram wanted it, even if he didn’t realize that’s how he was arranging things.

“May I sleep now?” asked Sarai.

“Not here, please,” said Abram. “Come to my tent.”

“You’re very kind, Abram,” she said, “but I’m so tired. I beg you, please let me sleep here.”

His face grew hard again. “As you say,” he said, and then arose and left the tent without another word.

To her surprise, Sarai only brooded for a little while before she slept.

And in the morning, she was almost happy, to wake up without dreading what Hagar would say. And—just as everyone suspected—Sarai also enjoyed not having to look at a woman pregnant with her husband’s child. As long as everyone believes I’m cruelly jealous, I might as well admit it to myself—it cuts me to the heart that she’s the one with his baby, and not me. The Lord knows that I feel that envy. But the Lord also knows that I never treated Hagar unkindly because of it. Abram was wrong. I’m not Hagar’s judge. God is, as he is my judge, and Abram’s too.

Sarai arose and dressed herself and then sat and prayed, murmuring the words of her heart, pouring out her feelings to the Lord. And by the end of her long prayer, she was able to say, with an honest heart, “I thank thee for granting the prayers of my husband and me, and giving him the child that Hagar carries. Please let the baby be born healthy and live long, for my husband’s sake.”

At peace with herself, she got up and left the tent and stood blinking in the bright light of midmorning. The life of the camp had gone on without her—of course it had. The cookfires were burning, the normal work and bustle of the camp caused all the familiar noises and smells and movements.

And then Sarai turned to face her own tent, where Hagar had slept last night, and a chill ran through her heart. For there was Hagar—who supposedly could not lift a finger to stir from her bed, she was so sick with her pregnancy—there was Hagar, sitting in Sarai’s place in the door of Sarai’s tent, and there was Eliezer sitting beside her, conferring with her just as he used to do with Sarai.

It is complete now, thought Sarai. She has moved entirely into my place.

Almost she returned to the guest tent, to spend the rest of the day weeping or brooding.

Almost she fled the camp, to wander in the hills until, blinded with tears, she fell into some ravine and mercifully broke a leg or arm to take her mind off the pain in her heart.

Almost she screamed aloud and condemned everyone in camp for being so blind as not to see how monstrously this servant girl had usurped her place.

But she did none of these things. Not even knowing what she was going to do, she walked across the yard between tents and stood before Hagar, who looked up at her sullenly from heavy-lidded eyes.

“Good morning, Hagar,” said Sarai, and to her own surprise she was able to make her voice sound perfectly cheerful. “I’m so glad you’re well enough to come out and see the day.”

Sarai carefully avoided looking at Eliezer, for his betrayal, by conferring with Hagar in Sarai’s place, was almost unbearable, and she might break down and cry if she actually had to speak to him.

“Good morning . . . Mistress,” said Hagar. The contempt in the word
mistress
was subtle. Sarai knew that no one would hear it but herself. Hagar was so careful in front of witnesses.

“Do you mind if I sit beside you here this morning?” Sarai asked.

Hagar immediately sighed and began to get up, making a great show of how hard it was for her. “Help me, will you, Eliezer? My mistress needs her place back, and so I’d better go inside.”

“No, not at all,” said Sarai. “I only asked if I might sit beside you. Please, sit down.”

“Never mind, Eliezer,” said Hagar. “My mistress commands me to sit. My back is so tired, though. Is it all right, Mistress, if I have some pillows to lean on, since I can’t go in and lie down?”

“But of course you can go in,” said Sarai, “if you need to lie down. Whatever you wish is fine with me.”

Hagar’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Mistress, I wish you’d decide what you want from me. Sit here, go in and lie down—I’ll do whatever you ask of me, if only you’d make up your mind.” And Hagar began, softly, to weep. But her body arched over and she put her hands to her face so it was obvious to anyone within sight of them that somehow Sarai had made Hagar cry.

“Forgive me, child,” said Sarai, somehow containing her rage at the way Hagar had manipulated everything to make her look monstrous once again. Indeed, despite her fury at the unfairness of it, she couldn’t help but admire how skillfully she had done it, right under Eliezer’s nose—and Eliezer, all solicitude as he helped Hagar get up to go inside, no doubt believed completely that somehow Sarai had been cruel to Hagar.

He’ll never even realize that every word I said was courteous and kind. He’ll only see that I somehow distressed the mother of Abram’s child, no doubt because of my envy of the girl.

When Eliezer returned from helping Hagar go back into the tent, Sarai spoke to him—in a businesslike way, without looking at him. “Eliezer, would you see that a horse is prepared for me? And a few servants to accompany me? I’m going to visit my sister in Sodom.”

“I will, Mistress,” said Eliezer. But then, before he left to obey her, he hesitated, and leaned a little closer. “Mistress, I think the master wishes to speak to you.”

“Oh, is he in his tent?” asked Sarai.

“No,” said Eliezer. He looked over her shoulder.

Sarai turned and gasped to see that Abram was standing directly behind her. “You startled me,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come from your tent.”

“Because I didn’t,” said Abram. “I’ve spent the morning sitting on the other side of your tent, waiting to hear for myself what passed between you and Hagar.”

She felt her heart sink within her. Hagar’s victory was complete. Abram was now convinced that he had proof that his wife was being cruel to the girl in whose body he had placed his child.

But to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “You poor thing, to have borne such insolence and deception all these weeks, and to have none of us believe in you even though you did no wrong.”

He believed her! He had not been fooled by Hagar’s manipulation! Tears of relief flowed—even though she had thought last night that she could never cry again. “Oh, Abram,” she murmured.

They stood like that a few moments longer. Then Abram spoke to Eliezer. “You heard what I heard, and saw with your own eyes, didn’t you?”

“As you asked me, Abram, I’m your witness.”

“Since someone has been trying hard to slander my wife in front of my whole household, I want you to take great care to make sure everyone knows exactly what you saw today,” said Abram. “Make sure they know I stand with Sarai.”

“I will, Master.”

“But stay here for now, Eliezer,” said Abram. He drew Sarai within the circle of his arm, so they stood side by side facing the door of the tent. “I want you to witness this, too.”

Eliezer stood then on the other side of Abram.