No Woman So Fair (38 page)

Abraham saw that Ishmael was not even breathing hard as he paused and turned to face his father, a smile on his bronzed face. He pantomimed a gesture, then drew an arrow from the quiver on his back.

The picture of Ishmael standing straight, half-turned, and drawing a bow that many grown men could not pull brought a warm glow to Abraham's heart. Ishmael was only thirteen, but he had become the most proficient hunter in the tribe. He had been going out alone now for three years and almost never failed to bring back some game for the pot. Now as the youth drew his bow, Abraham admired the muscles of his son's back and arms and thought quickly over the years that had passed.

His desire for a son had been fiercer than he had realized, and ever since the birth of Ishmael, he had thrown himself into making the boy into a strong, fine man. Physically this had not been difficult, for from the first, Ishmael had been strong and agile. He had walked long before most infants and had been extremely active through his early years. Abraham and Sarah had had some tense moments when the boy had wandered off. He once took a small bow with him that Abraham had made and stayed away all day. As the sun was setting he had returned triumphant, holding a bloody rabbit, his eyes alight with joy.

Abraham still remembered that day, and now as he watched Ishmael loose the arrow and then let out a cry of triumph, he moved forward. He was recovering his breath now, and when he reached Ishmael, the boy was removing an arrow from a large male antelope.

“That was a fine shot, my son.”

“Oh, it was easy.” Ishmael laughed, his white teeth flashing against his bronze face. He had his mother's glossy black hair and for one so young was well muscled. He was tall and moved with an easy manner that Abraham could not help admiring.

“This will make a good meal for you, Father.”

“For all of us,” Abraham said, nodding.

“You carry my bow, and I'll take the animal, Father.”

“Very well.” Abraham received the bow and the quiver and watched as the boy picked up the deer with ease and slung it over his shoulder. “The next time we go hunting, I'll bring a donkey along to carry your kill back.”

“Or maybe two.”

“You're proud of yourself, aren't you?”

“I like to hunt.”

“You've become the best shot of any man in the clan,” Abraham said. “I'm proud of you, son.”

Ishmael smiled and started walking jauntily back toward camp. Abraham kept pace with him, but when they were halfway there his old legs gave out. “You need to take a rest.”

“Oh, I'm not tired, Father.”

Abraham laughed. “Well, I am.” He sat down in the shade of one of the scrub trees, and Ishmael tossed the animal down and sat on it, using the beast for a cushion. Abraham took the water bottle fastened over his shoulder by a thong, drank deeply, and handed the bottle to Ishmael, who drank his fill. He was smiling faintly. Abraham tried to read his thoughts but could not. Finally he said, “When we get back to camp we'll build an altar and give thanks to God for your success.”

“All right, Father, if that's what you'd like.”

“Wouldn't you like it too?”

“Oh, I suppose so.”

Abraham shifted uneasily at Ishmael's obvious indifference toward the Eternal One. He had spent many hours since the boy was barely able to walk telling him the stories of his people and how the Eternal One, the immortal Lord of heaven and earth, had spoken to them. These stories had thrilled Abraham when he had heard them from his grandfather, but they seemed to have little attraction for Ishmael. Neither did he seem to show an interest in the tremendous promises that Abraham had been given by the Eternal One. He listened, but Abraham could always tell that his mind was elsewhere. “You must learn, my son, that the almighty Creator is everywhere and knows everything. For years I've struggled to understand how the Eternal One could know what everyone on this earth is thinking at the same time. I can't even know what
one
other person is thinking unless I look at his face, and even then I may be wrong. But the Eternal One knows all of the thoughts of our hearts. I think He knows we went hunting and that you killed this antelope. Isn't that amazing?”

“Oh yes, it is,” Ishmael said absently. He took out his knife made of fine Damascus steel, which Abraham had purchased for him—an expensive item for a young man—and he ran his hand along the smooth blade, admiring the strength of the weapon.

Abraham sat silently, knowing that if he started to speak of hunting or the physical world, Ishmael would be all attention.
Well, he's young. He'll change as he grows older. I suppose I didn't think much about God myself when I was his age
. He knew this was not true, but the rationalization gave him some comfort, and he finally said, “Well, let's go home. It's growing dark.”

****

As Eliezer passed by Hagar's tent, he saw that she was talking to Jameel, one of the herdsmen. Jameel was a tall, strongly built man of thirty, who had two wives but was always interested in any other woman who put herself in his way. Eliezer had often been forced to speak to him about his attention to the wives of his fellows in the clan, so, for the most part, Jameel confined his attentions to women outside of the family of Abraham.

The two were engaged in conversation so deeply that they did not hear Eliezer approach. He saw Jameel reach out and run his hand down Hagar's bare arm. She had never learned to dress modestly. Perhaps her days in Egypt had spoiled her forever, he thought. She was looking up into Jameel's face, a provocative smile on her lips.

“Jameel, I think you'd better get back to the herd.”

Jameel, caught off guard, turned, and his face showed his shock as he saw Eliezer. He scowled then and said, “I've finished my work.”

“Then I'll find some more for you to do. Go out and gather that herd we left over by the twin mounds. Bring them to the main herd.”

Jameel said resentfully, “It's late and I'm tired.”

“You heard what I said. Now go!”

Hagar's eyes flashed with anger as Eliezer turned to face her. “Why do you always have to interfere with me? What I do is none of your business.”

“Yes, it is,” Eliezer said.

Hagar laughed scornfully. “You had your chance with me. Now you're jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Eliezer said stiffly.

“Your face is easy to read. You still think about me.” Hagar moved closer, her eyes half closed. “I know you do. You watch me when you don't think I know it.”

This was a bit too close to the truth for Eliezer. For years he had turned his back on Hagar after she became the mother of Ishmael, for she was, in a sense, Abraham's second wife. He knew that Abraham had never touched her in all the years Ishmael was growing up, but he had seen Hagar try to tempt the father of her child into intimacies.

Hagar moved closer, so close that Eliezer could smell the strong perfume she always wore and was aware of the smoothness of her skin. “I know why you haven't married all these years,” Hagar whispered. “You can't get me out of your mind.”

“Don't be ridiculous. All that was a long time ago. I'd forgotten it.”

“No, you think about me at night when you're alone in the dark and your bed is empty. Well, you had your chance. Now, don't try to tell me who I can talk to.”

Eliezer whirled and left. This was not the first time Hagar had taunted him. She was a strange woman. At times she ordered him about like a slave, and he tried to accommodate her whenever possible. When she became too demanding, he simply ignored her. At other times she would try her wiles on him, and this was more difficult to bear. As he hurried away from her, he thought,
I wish that woman would behave herself, but she never will
.

****

Eliezer was an introspective fellow. In fact, his inner life was much more active and varied than his outer life. His days were occupied with work, and as the years had passed, he had become so proficient that Abraham entrusted him with most of the decision making. While Abraham was preoccupied with raising his son, Eliezer was the one all the men looked to for decisions, such as when to change camps and where the wandering tribe would go next.

Inwardly, Eliezer lived an imaginative life. He loved to read the scrolls Abraham treasured so much. He studied them faithfully, and he and Abraham had long discussions about them. He loved the God that Abraham had introduced him to and had become a man of strong principle, second, perhaps, only to Abraham. He also wrote songs, for he had always loved to sing. He didn't share them with anyone, for it seemed a frivolous occupation for a man of his station. He spent much time with the travelers they encountered, pumping them for stories of distant lands and the customs of other people. As a result he had an accurate concept of the geography of the region.

Despite this richness, Eliezer's life was empty in other ways. He had never married, and he missed not having a family, for he loved children. He always paid the babies and youngsters in the camp much attention, so that he was a great favorite. He supposed his lack of a wife was due to his many years serving Abraham, then caring for Zara. But Zara was a grown woman now, yet still he had not married.

A week after his conversation with Hagar, he kept remembering her accusation that he had not married because he still loved her. He had been disturbed by her words, and all week long a new thought had been growing within him. He got up after a fitful night and made his decision.
A man must marry. Abraham and Sarah have been after me for a long time. Now I'm going to please them
.

****

Zara was sitting beside a small stream, absently watching the flocks as they grazed in the distance. She had come out to fill a water pot but had sat down and listened to the pleasant music the stream made as it flowed over the rocks. She heard footsteps and turned to see Eliezer coming. When he got close enough, she said, “Good morning, Eliezer. Fine day.”

“Yes, it is.” Eliezer squatted beside her, picked up a stone, and flipped it into the small stream. “This is good water,” he said. “Not enough for all of our flocks, but it's better than some places we've been.”

Zara studied Eliezer carefully.
He looks even better now than he did when he was younger
. She took in the strong form, the tanned face, and the thick, lustrous hair without a trace of gray. He had lines around the corners of his eyes from years of being out under the blazing sun, and his hands were strong, although the fingers were longer and more tapered than most men of his race.

Zara had loved Eliezer for most of her life. She could barely remember her life before he had saved her and promised her mother he would keep her. He had kept that promise, and a warmth came over her as she thought of how careful he had been with her. He could be exasperating, though, and at times thickheaded. Now she knew that something important was on his mind and waited quietly until he found the courage to tell her.

“I've been thinking a lot, Zara,” Eliezer said slowly. He met her eyes, then seemed to find that difficult and stared off into space. “I'm getting along in years now, you know.”

“Yes, you're tripping over your long white beard.”

“Well, I don't have a long white beard, but I've decided I shouldn't live alone anymore.”

Instantly Zara grew still. Her heart began to beat wildly, and she found it difficult to breathe.
He's going to ask me to marry him
, she thought, and she turned to face him, her lips parted with expectation and joy.

“Most men my age already have families. I'm just slow at some things. And, of course, I wanted to talk to you.”

Zara clasped her hands together and waited.
He thinks I'll refuse him
, she thought.
Will he be surprised! I would have married him when I was fifteen years old if he had asked me
.

“I should have married when you were a child and that would have given you a mother, but it's too late to go back to that. Anyway,” he said, “I've decided to marry Orma.”

Zara sat stunned.
Orma! Why, he doesn't love her!

She jumped to her feet, furious, tears of humiliation and anger stinging her eyes.
He's so blind! He's never seen me as a woman!
Orma was a plain woman—good in her way, but not the imaginative woman he should have.

Eliezer rose quickly and caught a glimpse of her face. As always, he could not bear that Zara would be hurt, and he said quickly, “Maybe you think I shouldn't do this.”

“You do what you please, Eliezer, but you don't love that woman!”

“Well, she's a good woman, and I think she would be a good companion for you. Part of my decision is for your sake.”

Zara's frustration became so strong she could not bear it. She bowed her head and to her horror heard herself beginning to sob audibly. She turned to run away, but he caught her, turning her with his strong hands and said, “Why, Zara, if you hate it that much, then, of course, I won't do it.” She was weeping uncontrollably now, and he put his arms around her and held her tightly. He could remember doing this many times when she was smaller, but he had not embraced her like this for years. “Please don't cry,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek, and then…suddenly he was aware this was no longer the child he had found beside a dying mother. She was a woman in the fullness of maturity, and a consciousness of her femininity swept through him. He was tremendously embarrassed by his reaction and released her quickly, saying, “You know you're like a daughter to me, Zara, and—”

Zara reached out and struck Eliezer in the chest. “You're an idiot!” she cried, and turning, she ran blindly away toward her tent.

Eliezer stood in shock and amazement. He was ashamed of himself, for passion had risen in him as he had held her soft form close to his chest, and he was puzzled by her anger. He watched her until she disappeared and then muttered, “Well, it's plain she doesn't want me to marry…so I guess I won't.”