A Lineage of Grace (10 page)

Tamar’s heart lurched, but she said nothing.

Her mother bowed her head. “If Judah recognizes you, he’ll kill you. You know that, don’t you?”

“If I die, I die.”

“Shelah is a shallow young man. He would be easier to fool.”

“Perhaps, Mother. But I don’t want another jackal. I’m going after the lion.”

* * *

The oil lamp was still burning when Tamar rose in the night. Her mother knew exactly how much oil to use so that the light would last through the heaviest darkness. Soon the lamp would flicker and go out, just in time for the first hint of dawn to light the room. Tamar tiptoed across the room and picked up the basket with her sister’s clothing. She left the house with it.

The sun was rising, turning the stars into dying sparks in the paling sky. Tamar walked quickly across her father’s fields to the hills beyond. The sun was up and the earth warming by the time she reached the crossroads of Enaim. She entered an olive grove, hurrying into its depths where she would be hidden.

Stripping off her widow’s garb, Tamar put on the garments and trappings her mother had made for her priestess sister. She loosened her hair, combing her fingers through the thick, black, curling mass until it hung down her back to below her waist. She put on the veil. The tiny bells around her ankles tinkled as she tucked her black
tsaiph
into the basket and hid it behind a tree.

Grim but determined, Tamar walked back and waited at the edge of the grove where passersby wouldn’t see her. She kept watch for the rest of the morning. Her heart leaped into her throat every time she saw two men coming down the road, but she stayed hidden. She would show herself to no men but Judah and his Adullamite friend.

It was well past noon when Judah appeared on the rise with Hirah at his side. She stepped out and sat at the edge of the grove. She rose and stepped forward as they came closer. The anklet bells tingled softly and caught Judah’s immediate attention. He slowed his pace and looked at her.

Her palms were slick with sweat, her heart hammering wildly. She wanted to run into the orchard and hide herself again, but she vowed not to lose courage now. She must be bold. Deliberately ignoring the men, she leaned down, lifted the hem of the gown, and adjusted the thin straps of one sandal. The two men stopped.

“We’re in no hurry,” the Adullamite said, his tone amused.

When she straightened, Tamar didn’t look his way. She didn’t want him to approach her. She fixed her gaze upon Judah—it was he whose attention she sought. Would he recognize her? Her breath caught tensely as he turned aside and came to her. He stopped right in front of her and smiled, his gaze moving downward. Judah didn’t recognize her. He had scarcely looked at her veiled face.

“Here, now,” he said, “let me sleep with you.”

Tamar was shocked at how easily he fell prey to a woman’s wiles, even a woman who was completely inexperienced in the art of seduction! Was this the way men bought the services of a harlot? What should she say now?

“She wants you, Judah.” Hirah grinned. “See how she trembles.”

“Perhaps she’s shy.” Judah smiled wryly. “Go on ahead, Hirah. I’ll catch up later.”

Hirah chuckled. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, my friend!” He walked down the road, leaving Tamar alone with Judah. She almost lost her nerve because of the intensity of his eyes. He never looked away.

“So,” he said, “we’re alone now. What do you say?”

She could tell his need was great, but no greater than her anger. Would her sister have felt pity? Tamar couldn’t muster any. Seven years ago she had begged him not to allow his son Onan to treat her like a harlot! Judah had wanted her to entice his son into doing what was right.

Today she would do so with Judah himself.

She took a step away from him, looking back over her shoulder coyly. “How much will you pay me?” She spoke low, in a tone she hoped would beguile him.

“I’ll send you a young goat from my flock.”

And where was his flock? Her anger heated. How like Judah to promise something he had no intention of giving. First, a son. Now, a goat! She wouldn’t accept another promise from his lips. Not on this day, or any other. “What pledge will you give me so I can be sure you will send it?” She lowered her eyes so he would not see the fire that raged within her. Had he sensed it in her voice or mistaken the tremor for unbridled passion?

Judah stepped closer. “Well, what do you want?”

Tamar considered quickly. She wanted something that bore Judah’s name. If she became pregnant, she would need something to prove him responsible. “I want your identification seal, your cord, and the walking stick you’re carrying.” As soon as she uttered the words, her heart stopped. She had asked for too much! No man in his right mind would agree to give up so much, especially to a harlot! Judah would guess now. He would reach out and rip the veils from her face and kill her right there at the crossroads.

She jerked slightly as he reached out. Then she realized he was handing her his staff! Tamar took it, then watched in amazement as Judah removed the cord from around his neck and handed her his seal as well. He hadn’t even uttered a word of protest! The man was driven by lust!

A bitter sadness gripped Tamar. It took all her willpower not to wail and weep loudly. All the years she had waited for this man to do what was right, and then to find that he thought nothing at all of handing the keys to his household over to a woman he thought was a prostitute!

The sadness ebbed quickly, replaced by excitement. She had cause to hope. Though she had shed her pride and degraded herself, she had this one opportunity to provide a child for the household of Judah. Acsah had said the time was right. She could only hope so.

“Have you a room in town?” Judah said.

“The day is fair, my lord, and grass far softer than a bed of stone.” Judah’s staff in her hand, she walked into the olive grove. He followed.

* * *

Judah took his pleasure beneath the shade of an olive tree and fell asleep in the afternoon heat. Tamar rose quietly and left him there. She hurried through the trees, found the basket she’d hidden, and quickly stripped off her sister’s garments and put on her own. Looping Judah’s cord and seal around her neck, she tucked them beneath her black mourning garment. She folded the red dress, veils, and sash and put them carefully away, tucking the belled anklets deep into the folds, where they would make no sound.

Hope was alive within her. She pressed her hands over her womb as tears ran down her cheeks. Bowing her head, she whispered softly, “I only ask for justice!”

Judah’s sons had abused and used her; Bathshua had blamed her for their sins; and Judah had cast her out, broken his promise, and abandoned her. But now, she might yet be grafted into the line of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Without Judah even knowing, he may have given her a child. If his seed had taken, she might yet have her place among the people whom the God of all creation had chosen to be His own. And if the child were a son, he would be her deliverer.

Tamar reverently touched the seal hidden beneath her garment. She picked up the basket and tucked it under her arm. She took Judah’s staff from where it rested against an olive tree and headed home.

* * *

A spear of light touched Judah’s eyelids and awakened him. The harlot was gone. When he didn’t find her standing alongside the road where he’d first seen her, he assumed she’d gone into town. Grim and uneasy, he went on with his journey, spending the rest of the day in regret. He was no better than Esau, who had given away his birthright for a bowl of lentil stew! Why had he agreed to hand over his staff, seal, and cord to a temple prostitute? Having taken his pleasure, he found himself impatient to have his possessions in hand again.

Annoyed, he caught up with Hirah near Timnah. His friend irritated him further with taunts and salacious comments.

“Where’s your staff, Judah? Don’t tell me . . .”

“I’ll have it back when I send a goat to the woman.”

“And your seal and cord as well?” Hirah laughed and slapped him on the back. “I hope she was worth the price!”

Ashamed, Judah gave no response. He made excuses and went to find Shelah, who had been sent ahead with the flocks. They sheared the sheep together. Judah made contracts with several farmers to bring his sheep after the harvest. Hirah joined them but refrained from further remarks about the harlot by the roadside. “Come, my friend, relax and enjoy yourself,” Hirah said, swaying from too much drink. “You have nothing to worry about. Life sorts itself out. Remember how we lived before wives and sons and worries. Timnah has much to offer.”

Shelah was eager to try everything. Judah found he couldn’t. He kept remembering what an hour of pleasure had already cost him. He missed the feel of his staff in his hand and knew he wouldn’t feel right until he had his seal and cord back as well. He was ready to leave long before the festival was over. When it was, he found he couldn’t bring himself to follow the same road home again. He made excuses to Hirah.

“I need to take my flocks to better forage. You’re going back by way of Enaim, aren’t you?”

“As I always do.”

“I’ve done many favors for you, have I not, Hirah? Take this goat back to the harlot by the crossroads of Enaim. Retrieve my staff, seal, and cord from the prostitute and bring them to me at my house. Do that for me, my friend, and I will show my appreciation when next I see you!”

Hirah’s eyes gleamed. “Of course.”

“One more thing I ask of you.”

Hirah lifted his hand. “You needn’t say another word, Judah. You’re my friend. No one will hear a word of this from my lips.” He grinned. “Besides, it will be my pleasure to do your bidding.” He headed off down the road, tossing back over his shoulder, “Perhaps I’ll pass a few hours in that olive grove myself!”

Judah thought no more about the girl or the cost of his sin until weeks later, when Hirah passed by his house empty-handed. “I made a thorough search for the girl, Judah. I even went into the town, but everyone said there had never been a temple prostitute at the crossroads. They laughed and asked me why I’d think there would be one there when the temple is in Timnah.”

Judah had never considered why a temple prostitute would loiter by the road. Now that he thought about it, he wondered why he hadn’t! Confused, Judah became angry, convinced he’d been tricked somehow but having no idea of the reason. Why would the harlot lie to him? Of what possible use were his cord, seal, and staff to a prostitute? A goat could be sold and then the money used for sustenance. Who would buy a seal and staff that bore another man’s name, especially a name as well known as his?

“What do you want me to do, Judah?” Hirah sipped his wine. “Shall we both go back and search for her again?”

“Let her keep the pledges! We tried our best to send her the goat. We’d be the laughingstock of the village if we went back again.”

When Hirah departed a few days later, Judah went out and cut a straight, strong branch from an almond tree. He whittled the bark and carved his name into the wood. The new staff was a good one, but it didn’t have the feel of the one his father had placed in his hands. Nor did the clay seal he made have the same feel of authenticity that his stone seal had had.

But after that, Judah forgot entirely the incident at the crossroads of Enaim.

SIX

Tamar said nothing about her successful journey to Enaim, and her mother didn’t ask about it. The following morning, Zimran left for Timnah with Tamar’s older brother. They took the basket containing the temple garb with them.

When two weeks passed and there was no show of blood, Tamar knew she was pregnant. She was exultant as well as terrified. She kept her secret and went on as always. She rose early and worked all day. No one noticed any change in her, though Acsah was hardest to convince and perplexed by her sudden modesty.

At night, while the others slept, Tamar would spread her hands over her womb. Sometimes her fear would rise, and she would wonder how she had ever dared to trick Judah. What would he do when he found out? She’d been willing to risk everything, even her life, for the chance to bear a child. Now she was afraid for the child she carried. Soon her pregnancy would become apparent, if Acsah hadn’t guessed already. If her father learned of it, he might kill her in a fit of rage. If she died, so too would Judah’s child—and Judah’s line would be lost.

She tried to think clearly and not allow her emotions to run wild. She was still a part of Judah’s household, whether he acknowledged her or not. The decision of whether she lived or died must be his, not her father’s. Truth was her only protection, but she couldn’t reveal it in a way that would bring shame upon Judah. Had she wanted to do that, she would have cried out before the city gates long before this.

She kept her secret, refusing even to confide in Acsah, who plagued her daily with questions. “Where were you that day? Why didn’t you awaken me? I searched for you in the fields. Tell me where you went and why.”

Finally Acsah challenged her in private. “What have you done, Tamar? Who have you lain with? By the gods, we’re both undone!”

“I did what I had to do, Acsah. It’s the law of both Judah’s people and mine that I have the right to a child by Shelah or by Judah himself. And yet I’ve had to risk everything to receive justice at Judah’s hands. I have shamed myself and resorted to trickery to beget this child, lest I die in disgrace.” She grasped her nurse’s hands and held them tightly. “You must trust me.”

“You must speak out and tell—”

“No. Nothing can be said. Not yet.”

“And when your father finds out? Will he have mercy on you when he thinks you’ve committed adultery?”

“It will be up to Judah to decide what happens to me.”

“Then you’ll die, and the child will die with you. Judah thinks you bring ill fortune and are the cause of his sons’ deaths. This will give him an excuse to be rid of you!”

“Speak no more of it.”

“Your father will kill you when he finds out!” Acsah closed her eyes and covered her face. “You should have waited.”

“I would have grown old and died before Judah called for me.”

“And so you destroy yourself and a child with you? You’ve betrayed Judah and brought shame upon this house. Tell me what happened.”

“I will tell you nothing.” Caution and hope for a brighter future kept her silent.

This was her secret and Judah’s, though the man wasn’t even aware of it yet. She would guard this knowledge and keep it private, for it was precious. Judah’s staff was beneath her pallet, and the cord and seal ring were still around her neck, hidden by her widow’s garb. She wouldn’t show them to Acsah. She wouldn’t wag her tongue and give her nurse or her father cause to laugh at Judah. She wanted to fulfill her duty to his household. She wanted to be embraced by his people. Would Judah thank her if she exposed him to ridicule?

Tamar thought of Judah’s pride, his pain, his losses. She wouldn’t add humiliation to his sorrow. Judah had forsaken her, but she would not shame the father of her child before any man or woman.

The morning she had walked over her father’s fields and stood near the crossroads waiting for Judah, she’d had time to think long and hard about the risk she was taking and what the future might hold. Life or death, Judah would decide. When she had stood over Judah as he slept, she’d trembled with anger. She’d almost kicked him awake and confronted him with his sin. She had longed to shake him and cry out: “See what you’ve brought me to, Judah! See what you’ve done!” He had once told her to play the harlot for Onan. Instead, she’d played the part for him.

But she had let her anger go. She didn’t want revenge. She wanted justice. She was gambling everything in the hope of something better, something important, something permanent. A child. A reason to live! A future and a hope! She fanned the tiny flame growing within her, even knowing everything was still in Judah’s hands.

“Perhaps you’ll be fortunate and miscarry,” Acsah said.

“If that happens, may I die with my child.”

“You may die before that.” Acsah covered her face and wept.

Tamar smiled sadly. What caused her to hope so much in a man who had never done anything right in all the time she’d known him? Had Judah protected her from Er’s brutality or seen that Onan fulfilled his duty to his brother? Judah himself had broken his promise to give her Shelah. How could she hope to survive when her life was in the hands of this man?

And yet, she did hope. She chose to hope. She refused to give in to the fears that gripped her, fear for the child she carried—Judah’s child, Judah’s hope, Judah’s future.

But would the man listen when the time came for her to reveal the truth?

* * *

Two more months passed before the day of wrath and judgment fell upon Tamar’s head. Acsah shook her awake. Disoriented, Tamar sat up. She realized she’d fallen asleep by the stone wall where she’d been working.

“You’re undone,” Acsah said, tears streaking her face. “Undone! A servant saw you sleeping and went to your father. He summoned me. I had to tell him. I had to.” She gripped Tamar’s arms tightly. “Run away, Tamar. You must hide yourself!”

A strange calmness filled Tamar. Her waiting was over. “No,” she said quietly and rose. Two brothers were striding across the field toward her. Let them come. When they reached her, they cursed her with foul accusations. She said nothing as they grabbed her arms and headed back. Her father came outside, his face red, hands in fists.

“Are you with child?”

“Yes.”

Zimran didn’t ask who the father was before he flew at her. The first blow knocked her down. When he kicked at her, she scrambled away and rolled into a ball so that he couldn’t harm the baby. “It’s not your right to pass judgment on me!” she screamed at him in fury equal to his own.

“Isn’t it? You’re my daughter!” He kicked her again.

Gasping for breath, she started to rise, but he grabbed her shawl and the braid of hair beneath it, dragging her up and back. She clawed his hands to get free. She had the lion’s cub in her womb, and she would fight like a lioness to save it. She stood, feet planted, hands raised. “I belong to Judah’s household, not yours! Or have you forgotten?”

“He’ll thank me for killing you!”

“Judah must be the one to pass judgment! Not you! Judah and no other!”

Breathing hard, Zimran stared at her. “You’ve played the harlot beneath my nose! I should kill you!”

Tamar saw the tears of rage and shame in her father’s eyes, but she wouldn’t weaken. “Why save Judah the trouble, Father? Why have my blood on your hands? He abandoned me six years ago! Let it be on his head what happens to me and my child.”

Her father shouted for a servant. “Go and tell Judah: Tamar is pregnant by harlotry! Ask him what he wants done with her!” The servant ran across the field. Zimran glared at her. “As for you, harlot, go and wait.”

Tamar obeyed. Alone, she trembled violently. She clenched her hands, her palms damp with sweat. Her heart quaked.

What if Judah didn’t come?

* * *

The news of Tamar’s harlotry and her pregnancy rocked Judah and enraged him. Though it had been six years since he’d removed her from his house, he expected her to remain chaste for as long as she lived. If he showed Tamar any mercy and allowed her to live, the child, no matter who the father was, would become part of his household. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

Mingled with his wrath was elation. Tamar had given him an opportunity to get rid of her. She had sinned against his house in the vilest way, and it was his right to judge her. Bathshua would have been exultant. She had been right after all: Tamar was no good. The girl was evil. She had cost him Er and Onan! The wisest thing he’d ever done was withhold Shelah.

Let her suffer. Hadn’t he suffered because of her? Stoning was too swift, too easy. Let her feel the pain of her transgressions against him. “Bring her out and burn her! Burn her, I say!” Judah shouted.

Before Zimran’s servant was out the door, Judah felt certain his fortune had changed. By tomorrow, the time would be ripe to find a suitable wife for his last son, Shelah. It was time now to build up his household.

* * *

Tamar heard the commotion and knew what Judah had decided. Her mother was wailing, her father shouting. She covered her face and prayed.
God of heaven and earth, help me! I know I’m not of Your people. I know I’m unworthy. But if You care about Judah, who is Your son, save me! Save this child I carry!

Acsah hurried into the room. “Judah said to burn you. Oh, Tamar . . .”

Tamar didn’t weep or plead. She rose quickly and yanked back the pallet. Removing her shawl, she wrapped Judah’s staff in it. She took the cord and seal from around her neck and pressed them into Acsah’s hand. “Take these things to Judah. Go quickly, Acsah. Tell him, ‘The man who owns this identification seal and walking stick is the father of my child. Do you recognize them?’”

A commotion had started outside. Her mother was pleading hysterically as her father shouted, “
I warned her!
I told her what would happen if she ever took off her widow’s garb!”

“No, you can’t—”

“Get out of the way, woman! Tamar brought this upon herself!”

Tamar pushed her nurse. “Go, Acsah! Do not fail me!
Run, woman! Run!
”

As soon as she obeyed, Tamar positioned herself in the corner of the room where she could best defend herself. Her brothers entered. “Will you show no mercy to your own sister?”

“After you’ve shamed us?” They called her names as they grappled with her. She did not make it easy for them. They dragged her away from the wall and dragged her through the doorway.

Her father stood outside. “Judah said to burn you, and burn you shall!”

Did they think she would die easily? Did they think she wouldn’t fight for the life of her unborn child? Tamar kicked and clawed. She bit and screamed at them. “Then let Judah burn me!” They struck her, and with all her pent-up fury, Tamar hit back. “Let him see his judgment carried out!
Take me to Judah!
Why should my death be upon your heads?” She used her fingernails and feet. “Let him be the one to put the torch to me!”

* * *

Judah saw a woman running toward him, a bundle in her hand. Frowning, he shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and recognized Acsah, Tamar’s nurse. Gritting his teeth, he swore under his breath. No doubt she had come to plead for mercy for that wretched girl.

Gasping for breath and shaking with exhaustion, Acsah fell to her knees. She dropped the bundle at his feet. “Tamar sent me . . .” Unable to say more, she grabbed the edge of a black shawl and yanked it hard. A staff rolled out—his staff. She held out her hand and opened it, showing him a red cord with a stone seal.

Judah snatched it from her. “Where did you get these?”

“Tamar . . .”

“Speak up, woman!”

“Tamar! ‘Take these things to Judah,’ she said. ‘The man who owns this identification seal and walking stick is the father of my child. Do you recognize them?’” She bowed her head, fighting for breath.

A sick feeling gripped Judah. He went cold as he picked up his staff. The harlot by the roadside had been Tamar! She’d disguised herself and tricked him into fulfilling her rights to a child. He was awash with shame. Nothing he’d ever done had been unseen. He’d kept nothing secret from the Lord. His skin prickled. His hair raised on end.

“When will you do what is right, Judah?”

The words came like a whisper. Tamar had said these words to him years ago, but it was another voice now, soft and terrifying, that spoke into the recesses of his mind and heart. He gripped his head, trembling inwardly. He shook with fear.

“My lord?” Acsah’s eyes were wide.

His heart pumped frantically. He cried out and ran. He had to stop the judgment he’d set in motion. If he didn’t reach Zimran in time, two more lives would be upon his head: Tamar’s life and the child she carried.
His
child!

“Oh, God, forgive me!” He pushed himself harder, running faster than he’d ever run in his life. “Let the sin be upon my head!” Why hadn’t he run like this after the Ishmaelites? Why hadn’t he rescued his brother from their hands? It was too late now to undo what he’d done then.
Oh, God, have mercy, God of my father, Israel! Give me strength! Let her life be spared, and the child with her.

Zimran and his sons were coming to meet him. They were half dragging Tamar, and she was fighting like a madwoman. A brother kicked her as Zimran grabbed her by the hair. Yanking her to her feet, Zimran shoved her toward Judah, cursing her with his every breath.