No Woman So Fair (39 page)

Soon after Eliezer's attempt to explain to Zara that he would marry, he found that Zara was behaving in a manner completely alien to everything he had known about her. For one thing, she was ignoring him, speaking to him only when she had to. This hurt Eliezer greatly, for it had been Zara alone he had talked to about what he read in the scrolls, and it had been with her he had shared his songs. She had been the one who had gone with him to listen to the visitors from foreign lands, and afterward when he spoke excitedly of these things, she had been his audience.

Now all that had changed, and Eliezer knew that his words to her concerning marriage had changed her. He had asked himself many times what he had said that could have so offended her and finally decided she would feel left out if he married—that a wife would take him away from her.

She'd be wrong about that
, he concluded.
Even if I married, we could still be like we've always been
.

But although the distance between himself and Zara troubled Eliezer, another change was even more obvious. She had long been sought after by the young men of Abraham's tribe and other tribes. She was a beautiful woman, and men would often come to visit. In the past, he had said something once or twice about trying to find out if she liked any one of these more than another, but she had merely laughed, saying, “They're all clumsy oafs.” Her words had relieved him, and when he saw the trouble that some men's daughters gave them, he had rejoiced that she had been such an easy child to raise.

But soon after their talk he noticed that she had begun showing a different side. She began to wear clothes that were not as plain; in fact, some of them were luxurious. Eliezer had, from time to time, bought fine cloth from traveling merchants, and he had urged her to make nice clothes, but up until now she had continued wearing plain working clothes.

More than this he noticed that she was spending more time with several of the young men, obviously playing them against one another. She laughed, and her smile and enchanting eyes drew them, and finally Eliezer grew disgusted and decided to put a stop to it.

One evening when the activities of the camp had ceased, he sat in front of his tent watching as Yamar, a tall, strapping young fellow, was visiting Zara. He had noticed that Zara had fixed a special dish for this young man, who came from a good family and was much sought after among the young women. The time dragged on, and Eliezer glowered as he watched the two of them walk away and come back very late. It was night now, but the silver moon overhead cast its light down. He heard their voices and observed them carefully as they came to her tent. He could not make out their words, but suddenly he saw Yamar reach out and take Zara in his arms. Eliezer's anger rose, but he clamped his lips tight. Finally he heard Zara laugh, and the young man turned and disappeared into the night.

Eliezer got up and walked toward Zara's tent. She had already gone inside, so he called her name. “Zara, I need to talk to you.”

She stepped outside, wearing a startlingly blue dress. He remembered how much she had loved the color from the first time he had brought her the soft material. At his encouragement, she had made an attractive dress in the Egyptian style, with small pleats that clung to her figure.

“What is it?” she said.

“I want to know why you've been acting so peculiar.”

“I haven't been acting peculiar at all. You'll have to be more specific.”

“I mean dressing yourself up every day like a…like a…”

“Like a what?” Zara demanded.

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don't. Tell me.”

“Well, you don't dress like you used to.”

“You want me to put on sackcloth and ashes? Would that make you happy?”

This was not the Zara Eliezer knew. She was normally a sweet-tempered woman, but anger glinted in her eyes now, reflecting a rebelliousness he had seldom seen in her. “What about this Yamar?”

“What about him?”

“I saw him kissing you.”

“You saw me kissing him too, didn't you?”

Her question shocked Eliezer. “I won't have you acting like this. Running around like a…”

He could not finish his sentence and fell silent.

“Well, you're my master, so tell me what to do. Give me your commands, master.”

“Don't talk like that, Zara. You know it's not like that with us.”

“Oh, I know! You're my old father, and I'm your young child. If I weren't your slave, I would run away and go to the city!” She had no intention of such a thing, but she saw her words shocked him.

“You're not my slave! Don't be so foolish. You know I promised your mother I'd take care of you.”

Zara suddenly realized how badly she was behaving. She had indeed loved Eliezer like a father or an elder brother. As a child she had been aware that he had molded his life to fit hers, to make things easy for her. When she had grown into womanhood her childhood impressions that he was a good man had been confirmed. Men had come after her, but Zara had never been serious about any of them, for she loved this tall man who now stood before her with pain in his eyes—pain she knew she had caused.

“I'm sorry to be so awful.”

“You're not awful,” Eliezer said consolingly, taking her hand and holding it. “You're a fine young woman. It's just that I worry about you.”

Zara was totally conscious of her hand in his.
How much would I give if he'd just put his arms around me and hold me and tell me he loves me as a woman and not as a child?
She stood there silently, and when he finally dropped her hand, she said, “I'll try to behave better.”

“I know you're upset with me, but you don't have to be worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“I know it bothered you when I talked about getting married. I could tell you didn't want me to and it disturbed you.” He reached out and squeezed her upper arm. “Don't worry. We'll go on just as we are.”

“Good night, Eliezer.” Zara turned and moved inside the tent. She stood for one moment irresolutely, then whispered, “He's so wonderful in so many ways, but he is absolutely thickheaded where women are concerned!”

****

Visitors came often to Abraham's camp, and there was an unwritten law of hospitality among people such as Abraham—it was the responsibility of the host to make strangers welcome. Abraham had experienced this generosity himself when he had gone on journeys and had arrived hungry and exhausted at a camp. Except among the warlike Hittites or the wild Amorites, he could be sure of a warm welcome.

The code was well established. Once a stranger was accepted as a guest, he was privileged in unusual ways. If an enemy came to him, his host would fight for his guest's life as much as if he were his own family. No matter how little the host had, he would feed his guest generously, even though he and his family had to go on short rations. Abraham, being a wealthy man, had never had to suffer for the kindness he showed visitors, but he liked the customs. One afternoon he looked up to see three men moving out of the west with the sun at their backs, and he immediately stood up. “Sarah,” he said, “here come three strangers. We will offer them the hospitality of our home.”

The two watched as the three men approached, and Sarah whispered, “I'll start preparing the meal.”

“Be as quick as you can. They're probably hungry.”

Other members of the tribe were watching the three strangers approach, but none of them came forward. It was up to Abraham to welcome them, and he did so at once.

“You are welcome, sirs. Please come and rest yourselves. You must be weary. I am Abraham the Hebrew.” He waited for the three to identify themselves, but the leader, the tallest of them, said only, “That would be most appreciated.” He did not give his name, and it would have been bad manners to inquire. Abraham felt that they would reveal themselves sooner or later. “Come, we will have water, and my servants will see to it that you are refreshed. My wife is preparing a meal.”

Abraham watched as the three men nodded. As he bowed low, he had a strange feeling he could not define. Two of the men seemed quite ordinary, but the leader, a tall man with piercing dark eyes, had a presence one did not often encounter. As the men refreshed themselves, Abraham waited, and finally when they came out, he said, “Let us sit here. There's a breeze, and my wife will soon have our meal prepared.”

He saw to it that his guests were seated under the shade of a tree and had his servants bring wine.

Finally Sarah said, “The meal is prepared, husband.”

“Please serve us, then.”

Sarah put the meal out and stood back. She did not join them, as was the custom, but returned to her tent.

Abraham urged his guests to eat, and as the meal progressed, he found himself doing most of the talking. But suddenly the leader of the three abruptly asked, “Where is Sarah, your wife?”

“She is in the tent.”

“I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.”

Sarah had been listening to the conversation, and the words at first struck her dumb. Then she laughed to herself and thought,
Me, have a child? That cannot be
.

The tall visitor stared at Abraham, saying, “Why did Sarah laugh? Is anything too hard for the Lord? I will return to you at the appointed time next year and Sarah will have a son.” He rose abruptly, and Abraham stood up in a panic. He was numbed by the words that the leader of the three visitors had spoken. He found it difficult to respond, and finally the leader drew near to him and said, “I am not going to hide from you the thing that is going to happen.”

A sudden chill came to Abraham. “What's wrong?” he whispered.

The face of the tall man grew stern, and his voice was short and clipped. “Sodom has become a stench in the nostrils of the Eternal One. He is going to destroy that entire city.”

“Oh no, not everyone!”

“The whole city, and Gomorrah as well, will be totally destroyed. Those who live in it have given themselves over to evil so completely that judgment is going to come. You must prepare yourself, Abraham.”

Abraham was suddenly filled with a terror he could not contain. “A whole city! No—two cities, with everyone in them. Men, women, children, old people, all slain!” It never occurred to him to doubt the man's words, for the look in his eyes was terrible and grim.

“We must leave now,” the stranger said.

“I will escort you out of the camp.”

Abraham followed the three guests as they headed back in the direction from which they had come. This seemed strange to Abraham, but his mind was working on what he had heard. He tried desperately to believe that all that had occurred was just a dream or that the man did not mean what he had said. Maybe the Lord was going to kill just the leaders in those evil cities. That hope grew in him, and he began to formulate a plea in his mind.

He had no chance to utter it, however, for when they were out of sight of the camp, the leader turned and said, “Go back to your people, Abraham.”

“But—”

“Sodom and Gomorrah will be destroyed.”

The finality in the man's face, and in his tone and words, was like a cold stone door closing. Abraham knew that protest was useless with this man, and he stood speechless while the three walked away. He watched them disappear over a rise, and then tears sprang to his eyes, and he began to sob. His first thought, of course, was for his nephew Lot and his family. He felt as if he might lose consciousness, the stress was so great. He had never fainted in his life, but now he sat down hard, his legs no longer able to support him. He pulled up his knees, put his face against them, and began to shake.

“I must do something,” he cried. “But what?” He struggled to his feet and stood there helplessly, and even as he watched out of the gloom of darkness that had already fallen, a light began to glow, and he felt the presence of God. Eagerly he cried out, “O Eternal One, please don't let this thing be true!”

“You have heard the truth, Abraham. Sodom and Gomorrah will be destroyed.”

“But, Lord, will you destroy the righteous along with the wicked? What if there were fifty righteous men, would you not spare it for them?”

“If I find fifty righteous in Sodom, then I will spare the place for their sake.”

“What if there were only forty-five, O Most High?”

“I would spare it for their sakes.”

“Oh, be not angry with your servant, but what if only forty were found?”

Abraham continued to plead for Sodom, amazed at his own boldness, and finally when God said,
“I would spare it for ten righteous men,”
Abraham bowed and gave thanks.
Surely
, he thought,
there are at least ten righteous people in that place!

“Master, the animals have not done well. We've lost many to sickness, and last week a bear took six of them. Actually, I think it was more than one bear.”

Lot listened as Mal, his chief herdsman, recited the litany of disasters that had befallen the herds and the flocks. The short, stocky herdsman was usually a happy enough fellow, but now his face was frowning, and he shook his head as he continued to report the losses.

Lot had left Sodom early that morning, and for a time his trip to visit his herdsmen and take a count of his animals had been pleasant. Now as he stood listening to Mal give a lengthy, meandering account of his flocks and herds, Lot suddenly realized that, despite the bad news, the only time he had any peace of mind was when he was outside of Sodom. He had not reasoned this out before, but he took every available moment he could to get away from Meri and the girls, out walking the hills and the plains and drinking in the world of skies and hills and fields and valleys. He had recognized years ago that he was not made for town life. He envied Abraham and deeply regretted his decision to move to Sodom.