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THE INCENSE LADY

Abraham took another wife, whose name was Keturah. (Gen. 25.1)*

        “Ach! The stories they tell about me. It’s time for this old widow to set the record straight. Let us sit down here in the shade of this tamarisk tree.” The woman, tall and thin, was dressed in a long black robe trimmed with gold embroidery. She eased herself down slowly, “Ah that’s better; you’d never know by looking at my white hair and wrinkles that I was a beautiful girl once. All right, now to begin with, you can call me Keturah. You already know me as Abraham’s second wife and mother of seven sons by him but, did you know that I was also called Hagar, Abraham’s concubine and mother of Ishmael? Are you surprised,” she raised her eyebrows and smiled slyly, “even shocked? Good. I like that. Now I suppose you’re wondering how in the world I could marry Abraham after he threw me out of the house twice. Now, that’s a good question and I’ll give you an ear-full of an answer. But first, my throat is dry, let me take a sip of that wine.” She picked up the jug, poured some in a small cup and sipped slowly. She closed her eyes as if to picture the scene she was about to describe, opened them and began.

“The first time I saw Abraham I was peeking from behind the tent flap and saw a tall, slightly stooped man with a glorious black beard and soft brown eyes approach my father and give him some money. I was puzzled but, I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anyone,” she leaned forward and whispered, “I even had the fantasy that they were arranging a marriage!” Her face turned from the nostalgia of remembering a girlhood fantasy to now the hard look of anger, “At the time I did not know that my father was selling me to Abraham to be Sarah’s servant. Someone later invented a fanciful tale that my father was Pharaoh and he gave me to Sarah as a servant because he’d rather I was the servant of the great Sarah, than mistress of one of the great houses of Egypt. Really! You want to know the truth?” She raised her voice, “I was Egyptian all right but I came from a desperately poor family, so poor that they couldn’t feed me! Excuse me if I’m a little emotional; every time I think about that day even after all these years a rage builds up inside me starting here in my belly and rising through my chest and up into my head. How could they do that?” She sat shaking her head from side to side.   “I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face. She came into the tent smiling and told me how wonderful it would be—I’d have nice clothes and good food—but I could see the deep lines around her eyes and I knew she was in agony. My parents must have seen the confusion on my face because they hurried to get me ready. All they said was that Abraham and Sarah would treat me well and that I’d finally have enough to eat.”

“Well, they did give me enough to eat and new clothes to wear but,” she shook her head sadly, “they took away my Egyptian name, Asnat, and called me Hagar,  --‘emigrant,’ a non-person, the one who doesn’t really belong, the one without a real name. I was the stranger,” she said, “who does what she’s told. But, let me tell you a thing or two,” she pointed a finger, “I’m not a nobody. Just you look around at all the tents with my seven sons and grandsons, and great grandsons and their families and our many animals, fine clothes; you’ll see that I’ve become the matriarch of a great clan.” There was a triumphant note in her voice, then she paused, “I’m getting ahead of myself—I do that sometimes.” She smiled impishly.

“Okay so where were we.” She thought for a moment, “Yes. So I went with them. They had large flocks, donkeys, even camels and I walked next to Sarah while she rode. At first I was in a fog, terrified, confused, but soon enough I understood that I was Sarah’s servant.” She shook her head slowly from side to side. “She was very beautiful with thick black hair, honey-smooth skin and large black eyes and she spoke in a tone which said, ‘This is what I want and this is what you will do.’ I think ‘imperious’ is the word. Others might use less polite language. I’m a lady—lean over and I’ll whisper it to you: spoiled b-i-t-c-h. After several days we set up camp and the shepherds tended the sheep and goats while I waited on Sarah getting her water, grinding, cooking, washing. But as time went on, Sarah became irritable. She’d pick on me for the way I carried the water jug. She complained that I talked too much, then, ‘Why are you so quiet?’ At first I didn’t understand the reason for her moods but one day I heard her crying to Abraham about not having a child.”  Keturah leaned over and whispered, “Let me tell you another secret, I don’t think I wanted to admit it to myself but I was glad—she had everything but the one thing that was so important.”

Keturah shifted the pillow, took a sip of wine, cleared her throat, “Of Abraham, I saw little, but when he was around, he seemed remote even standoffish. I wonder whether he purposely avoided Sarah or he was in his own world, but I tried to catch a glimpse of him whenever I could. He was magnificent, like a king—stately, dignified with intense eyes, but I was a little afraid of him too. If I thought he might catch me looking at him I quickly hid.”

“One day when I was about 16 and developing quite nicely, if you know what I mean,” she raised her eyebrows and smiled, “I was grinding the barley for bread and Sarah called me into her tent. She told me in the coldest voice, which contrasted to the sly smile on her face, that I would be spending the night with Abraham. I was terrified.”  Keturah reddened and began to breath rapidly as if she were frightened and reliving that moment.  “I vaguely knew what that meant, but I didn’t know anything about sex. I asked, What should I do? Sarah coolly told me that Abraham would tell me what to do. That afternoon she helped me to wash and she gave me a clean dress. One minute she was so attentive that it was almost as if she were my mother, talking in soothing tones, giving me a little of her perfume, and in the next minute she was screaming at me, rushing me, then yelling at me not to rush and to be more careful. Finally, she told me firmly, ‘If you become pregnant, the child will be mine.’ My head was in a whirl; I felt panicky. I wanted to run away but where would I go—into the wilderness? Oh what a painful time…” She trembled and daubed at her eyes. “Give me a little more of that wine please….” She drank and pushed her hair back as if to smooth away the pain of that moment.

Keturah took a breath, “Okay, I suppose you want to know what happened with Abraham?  After all these years I can tell, but truthfully it’s embarrassing to talk about such things, even at my age.” She colored slightly. “All it says is that, ‘He came in to Hagar and she became pregnant.’ So Sarah brought me to Abraham’s tent and told me in her steely voice to go in, then as she turned away, I think I caught a little smile—I wasn’t sure. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I’d faint. I went in and when my eyes got used to the dim light, I saw Abraham lying on his bed. He motioned for me to come over. He seemed very old to me but he looked powerfully built. He patted the bed and told me to sit down. ‘Did Sarah tell you about tonight?’

“I mumbled yes. He spoke to me a little, telling me in his deep voice that God had promised him a son and that I would be the way for them to have a son. He tried to make it sound like I was doing something important for them. I was too much in shock to say much of anything except I remember nodding that I understood. He asked me if I would like a little wine and he held out a plate of figs dipped in honey. I sat there motionless and he urged a little wine on me and I took a sip. He ate a fig and again offered them to me. I finally took one and the sweet honey filled my mouth with delight. I relaxed a little. He smiled at me and said for me to lay down and pull up my dress. Then he entered me. It wasn’t like I’d never seen a man’s…you know…before. The boys used to swim naked in the river. But Abraham was a man…Is it hot in here or am I blushing. Imagine blushing at my age!” She fanned herself with her hand.

“Anyway, I was frightened and it was painful but at the same time I could see that he was trying to be gentle. When he finished, he looked a little embarrassed but also pleased. As I think back now, I suppose he realized how young I was—I could have been his daughter.”

Keturah’s face suddenly changed from slight embarrassment to the wrinkled forehead and narrowed eyes of a woman remembering a painful time. “Afterward I just felt confused, used, ashamed, angry that the first time I would be with a man, it would be for their purposes.”  She sat there fingering her linen robe, her eyes closed, shaking her head with tears dripping onto her cheeks. She wiped her face with her hand and began softly, “Later that night, I went back to my corner of Sarah’s tent. She was sitting near the lamp, wild eyed, mad, crazy really. I was afraid of her, as if I had done something behind her back with her husband. I went over to my corner hoping to avoid her—I didn’t know what she would do—maybe beat me. I lay in the dark and thought about my family, how my father would have killed Abraham if he’d known what they’d done to me. I imagined my father declaring that he wanted to kill Abraham with his bare hands and how he would grab Abraham by the throat. As I lay there I felt doomed: no man would want me, I’d always be a servant, a slave really. I finally realized what I’d agreed to and blamed myself for not running away.” She looked up slowly shaking her head from side to side, her mouth quivering, anguish in her eyes. She wanted to see that I understood the turmoil she went through. “I was afraid that if I were pregnant I’d have their child, afraid that if I weren’t pregnant I’d have to go to him again. I felt like I’d fallen into the bottom of a deep dry well from which there was no escape and I sobbed through that whole night.” Keturah paused and sighed.

“After a month I thought I might be pregnant, then a second month went by and I knew it. I was in such a jumble—proud that I was pregnant, hopeful that it would give me new status, frightened to death of giving birth, terrified about what would happen to the baby and to me after it was born. Oh, and did I miss my mother!” She looked out beyond the shade out into the bright sun, a faint smile on her lips as if she saw her mother standing there. “I pictured her soft dark eyes and kind smile. Some nights I lay in my corner, talking to her for hours. I imagined how she’d smooth my hair and rub my back to comfort me. I imagined finding her one day and telling her all that had happened to me; how we’d sit in the shade like we are now, and how she’d hold my hand and listen and how she would cry with me and how it would somehow be all right then…”  She paused and looked off wistfully then turned back, “But of course that never happened.” She paused. “…sorry…” She wiped her eyes, “I still miss her after all these years.”

“Anyway, Sarah was alternately happy, going around singing, making up little children’s songs and then she’d scream at me for no reason. If I cleaned the tent, it was never clean enough. If I made bread, it was baked too long or not long enough. She threw things at me, even apiece of a broken bowl--see this scar here on my cheek?” She pointed to a now faint jagged line which extended an inch from her right cheekbone toward her ear. “And, when I began to look pregnant, it got worse.” He eyes widened and she took a deep breath as if she was entering a difficult and painful challenge.

“I was in the tent folding some things when I heard her outside screaming at Abraham about how I was not respectful to her.” She looked at me intently, “My God! Didn’t she understand what this meant to me, how hard it was to be used like this and then know that the baby wouldn’t even be mine?” She resumed, “Then I heard Abraham who sounded annoyed, tell her, ’Look the girl is yours, do what you want with her.’”

“ ‘Yours’ he said? So all that talk about how important I was in giving him a child was a lie!” She raised her voice. “To make matters worse, I had morning, afternoon and evening sickness; I was always throwing up.” Her voice was louder and she pounded on the blanket for emphasis.  Then quietly, in a whisper really, “I lost all hope. Later that day, Sarah went after me with a stick for not folding a blanket properly. First,” she hissed, “her husband should make me pregnant so she would have a child and I have to go along—what could I do?—and then she beats me for doing what she wanted.” She put her arms around herself and hugged herself.

“Without thinking, I ran off. I wandered all night tripping and falling over rocks, crying, sobbing until I collapsed next to a broom bush. When the sun came up I was startled to see it was covered with dozens, hundreds of little yellow flowers and when I stood up I saw a spring near by. But I must say, glad as I was to find it, part of me was hoping that I wouldn’t find anything—that I’d just die. I sat by the water and took a drink.”

“Speaking of that, would you mind handing me that cup of wine. I’m dry with all this talking.” She took a sip and put the cup next to her. “Anyway, I calmed down. The sun was now warm on my face after shivering in the cold. I closed my eyes and for those few moments I felt a peace I had not had for months, maybe years.”

“I found myself sitting on a rock, feeling the sun as if it were somehow Abraham’s God comforting me and then I actually asked Him for help. Imagine that! I was asking for help from the God of the man who had used me! And wouldn’t you know that He answered me. I heard this voice inside me telling me that I should go back and put up with Sarah, but that I would have a son who would be powerful, and he would have many sons and in time, too many descendents to count. It sounded like he’d not just be Abraham’s son and not really Sarah’s either, but mine. And the most amazing thing was that I believed that this would be true. Of course as you’ve seen, it did come true, but I had no way of knowing that at the time.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I found my way back, picking my way over the rocky ground, now careful to protect my baby by not falling.  When I arrived back, Sarah screamed at me because my clothes were torn and then continued to complain about everything I did. The bread I baked, which she had liked so much, was, all of a sudden, tasteless. The wool I spun was uneven and not fine enough. She said my weaving was sloppy and ordered me to pull it out. Finally when I went into labor, the midwife helped deliver the baby.” Her eyes shone. “Of course it was painful, awful, but when he was finally born, it was the most wonderful feeling. He was beautiful with a full head of hair!” And raising her eyebrows and breaking into a big grin, “I loved him from the first minute I saw him.” Her face turned to worry, “But I was terrified that they would take him from me.

Then things with Sarah got even worse after Ishmael was born and she saw how Abraham often went to play with Ishmael, smoothing down his beard so it wouldn’t bother the baby. And, of course, we visited too. That was when I got to know Abraham better and learned that he was really very kind. Of course, why shouldn’t he be? It was his child, his future that I had given him, and yet he went beyond that. He’d bring me little presents—some special sweet or even bronze bracelets.” She held out her wrist and showed off half-dozen shining bracelets. “And he always asked if I needed anything. In time I noticed that he came when Sarah wasn’t around and I even made a point of slipping away from her with the baby and playing with him in the shade of sycamore tree to make it easier for Abraham to see us alone.

One day, Abraham got up from playing with Ishmael and he kissed me on the cheek, ‘You are a good mother. Thank you.’ He had a boyish look on his face, ‘May I come to your tent tonight?’ This time I felt that he was courting me—it was wonderful.” Her eyes brightened and she smiled. “I now had my own tent where Ishmael and I stayed so I could bathe and put on clean clothes without attracting Sarah’s attention. I even prepared a little food for him. All the while I was singing and humming, laughing and giggling to myself and yet I was wary, afraid even.

            When he came into the tent he looked resplendent in his robes, his soft eyes glistened. He sat next to me and spoke to me about Haran and the long journey to this land. He told me about God and how God spoke to him and promised him a son. He told me how grateful he was to me. He just sat there in the lamp-light, with his beautiful beard, deep brown eyes and straight nose, and he had the whitest teeth—he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen!” She looked over with a big smile, her eyes glistening. “I kept thinking about his kindness now, how endearing he was, how easy it seemed to talk to him and how attracted I was to him; and yet I couldn’t forget that he’d told Sarah to do what she wanted with me. Finally, I don’t remember if it was that first night or not, I got up the courage and said, ‘I heard what you said to Sarah just before I ran away when I was pregnant.’ ”

            “He said, ‘I was afraid you had,’ and his whole face changed. A minute ago he was full of charm, courting me and now his eyes looked sad, apologetic. ‘I’m ashamed that I didn’t stand up to her, but by law she was allowed to do what she wanted. I was very angry with her and later I told her that you may be her servant, but you are carrying my, our child. Don’t drive her away.’ She didn’t listen, but I told Sarah more than you heard. I’m sorry, but she just feels badly about not having children.’ Earlier I was flattered by his attention but now, I fell in love with him.”

“After a few visits he made love to me. It wasn’t like last time. It was like he was my lover. He couldn’t get enough of my body. He made it sing with pleasure and he showed me how to bring him pleasure, which added to mine.” She looked flushed and smiled to herself, “Oh my, is this any way for an old lady to talk? But, it was wonderful! Here I had a son, and from time to time, I would have Abraham—I was his concubine. I still had to tip toe around Sarah but now it was tolerable. I was so sure then that he loved me and would protect me--how foolish I was.” She furrowed her forehead. “But I thought of Abraham all the time. I would peek out of the door of the tent trying  to get a glimpse of him as he walked by, and I think he went out of his way to see me. We tried to be discrete, so we didn’t talk during the day except if he came to see Ishmael and then he paid attention only to him and played with him outside while I attended to my chores with Sarah.”

            “Everything went along smoothly for a time. And then it happened.” Her eyes were wide now and she spat out, “Sarah became pregnant. I couldn’t believe it and I don’t think she did either--she hadn’t had her period in years. But there she was with a self-satisfied smile, parading around proudly—her belly growing bigger by the day.” And with disgust in her voice, Keturah added, “As for Abraham, who at first looked torn between Sarah and me, now spent all his time with Sarah—it was as if Ishmael and I didn’t exist! And when Isaac was born it was clear that he would be the chosen and favorite son. As if this wasn’t bad enough, things, as you know, got worse, a lot worse.”

She took a sip of wine and ate a few dates, “I know it says that Abraham protested when Sarah wanted us thrown out but agreed when he thought God wanted him to do it. More nonsense!” She raised her voice and spoke accusingly, stabbing at the air with her finger, “I’d seen Abraham put his foot down on occasion. Okay, it was rare, but he’d done it. You want my opinion?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I don’t care what it says about God, I think Abraham was, plain and simple, afraid of Sarah. She made up an excuse that Ishmael was making fun of Isaac, that he was a bad influence. Lies, all lies! She wanted to get Ishmael out of the way, but mostly she wanted me out of the way!” She motioned with her hand as if to slap something away from her. “She was no fool. She knew Abraham came to me and why shouldn’t he? I was young and if I do say so, quite attractive if not beautiful. But I had a wonderful figure. Long slim legs, small waist, large firm breasts—and did Abraham love to devour my breasts! Oh, I think I’m blushing again. I should be ashamed of myself.  Anyway, I think he was also tired of Sarah’s outbursts, her temper, her complaining and carrying on about everything. I even heard some of the servants call her ‘Madame Queen.’ ” Keturah sighed, “So Abraham packed us some water and food, which I would have refused if it hadn’t been for Ishmael. Big deal, so we’d die one or two days later.” Keturah’s face was flushed in anger, her jaw set hard. “I stood there at the edge of the camp in the first morning light looking back. It was quiet, so very quiet as if the very ground were holding its breath.  No one else was up—he wanted to get rid of us before anyone could see him do this shameful thing. I stood as straight as I could and refused to cry. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my tears. I wouldn’t even look at him much less say good-by to him. It was all I could do not to fly at him pounding my fists against his chest, clawing his face with my nails. I just turned around and walked off, holding Ishmael’s hand. The poor boy kept asking where we were going. What could I tell him? We were going on a picnic?”

“After two days of wandering over the rough ground, barren, save a few pitiful plants here and there, the water was gone and so was the food. Ishmael was weak and lethargic. Then he passed out.”

“How do I tell you what I felt? I had nothing to give him. I would have given him my own blood!” She held out her hands. “I couldn’t carry him very far so I put him down in the shade of a large rock and went off a little ways to look for water or food. They later wrote that I put him down unable to watch while he died. Lies! More lies, which still infuriate me!” She shook her finger. “And let me tell you something else: I always kept him within my sight as I scouted the area. Don’t you think I would have held him, comforted him, given him my tears, not let him die alone, discarded.” She shook her head sadly.

“Finally I heard a voice. Was it the same God who spoke to me before or was I beginning to hallucinate? Who knows.” She shrugged. “Later they said it was God. All I know is that I was frantic, half out of my mind. Anyway, this voice told me to look over on the other side of the rocks and sure enough there was water. At first I didn’t think it was real. I scrambled over to it expecting it to recede, a mirage, but as I walked I realized my feet were getting wet. I ran and grabbed Ishmael, struggling to hold him and hoping it wasn’t too late. We both drank. Slowly he revived.” She smiled, “It is hard to describe how I felt when I saw him stir and open his eyes. I was laughing and crying at the same time.”

“And,” she pointed to her home, “we are still here. See over there just over that little hill by the date palms is where the pool of water was. Even then this place was wonderful—unbelievably rich and fruitful. All the date trees, figs, and olive trees as well as the wonderful spices like myrrh, frankincense and coriander you see here, were here then. So of course we stayed. From time to time traders would come through with their camels and donkeys loaded with jugs and bowls, and linen and wool cloth and we would trade spices which they used for incense. After a while they called me Keturah, the incense lady.”

Keturah paused, closed her eyes in thought and then added, “Later on, even here they made up reasons for my name—they couldn’t let things be.” She scrunched up her face in irritation. “One person said I was Keturah because I was as pleasant as rain (ketoret). Another story was that I was pious. They had to make me look good if Abraham was going to marry me—I’ll get to that part in a minute. Only one got it right,” now she smiled as if she were speaking about an old friend, “The Alexandrine, Philo, understood that I was the incense lady.”

“Pardon me while I pour a little more wine.” She lifted the jug and with her hand shaking slightly poured a little wine into her cup. She took a sip, “…ah, that’s better. Now things get interesting.” She smiled and rubbed her hands together.

“One day, a messenger came from Abraham with many gifts: goats, and sheep, beautiful cloth, jewelry. I remember him standing there in front of my tent blinking in the sun and telling me that Sarah had died and that Abraham had sent him to offer a proposal of marriage. I couldn’t believe my ears. I screamed at him, ‘Now after all these years he wants to marry me. He sent me away to die twice. He never tried to find me and at least care for Ishmael. Tell him no!’ I threw the cloth and jewels at him, told him to take his dirty animals and leave. ‘Never!’ I yelled as he hastily gathered the gifts.  Afterwards I felt a little sorry for the poor messenger boy—a skinny kid leading a sad looking donkey.” Her large eyes softened, “He’d come a long way and here I was screaming at him. I went back to harvesting spices, drying them and selling them to passing caravans.

A few weeks later another messenger came. This one, just as pathetic looking, brought gifts for Ishmael. Tools, a bow, arrows, a sword and a spear, clothing. Ishmael who by now was a tall, strong young man with beautiful black hair and eyes,” she raised her arms and held her hands apart to show what broad shoulders he had, “broke the arrows in half, threw the tools and the sword along with the clothes at the messenger and told him to get out.” 

“I thought I was finished with this whole business and glad too. After all, I had spent the last years trying to wipe Abraham out of my memory and I didn’t need the whole nightmare to come back. But wouldn’t you know, a few weeks later a large entourage came by. There were several camels and guards riding on donkeys. A tall man with a white robe trimmed in gold and purple dismounted from one of the camels. It was Abraham. My first impulse was to go into my tent and refuse to see him but I decided that I wouldn’t hide from him. I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of—but he sure did. I just stood outside in the shade of the tent door, arms folded and waited for him to come to me. I’ll let you in on a secret—I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’m an old lady and what’s the harm—when I folded my arms I purposely pushed up my breasts to tease Abraham.” She laughed, “I was such a wicked girl.”

“Abraham walked toward me straight as the staff he was carrying, robes flowing in the wind—and, as much as I hated to admit it, he was a glorious sight. He stopped, took a deep breath and looking down humbly, said, ‘I don’t blame you.’ ”

“I was thrown off guard, but recovered and spat out, ’You have some nerve.’ ”

“His voice softened and he looked up with sad eyes,   ‘I came because, don’t you know, I always loved you.’ ”

“ ‘You say you loved me,’ ” I hissed, “ ‘and yet you threw me out of the house twice. I could have died those two times; Ishmael almost died.’ ”

“Then he knelt down in front of me, tears in his eyes, ‘Please…I beg you, hear what I have to say. Don’t send me away.’ ’’

“I wanted to say ‘…like you did to me,’ but there he was on his knees. Just imagine Abraham! the rich, the powerful, the one favored by his God, on his knees in front of me.” Her eyes widened and she held out her hands, “Frankly, I was touched, honored, embarrassed, and furious that he was so disarming.”

“ ‘Here. Sit,’ ” I said. “ ‘Do you want some water?’ ”

“ ‘Yes thank you.’ We found a shady spot by the tent and he eased himself down.”

“I had never seen him so meek. In a way I felt that I was caring for a weak old man. But I knew he was anything but weak. His eyes were as intense as ever and he’d just walked toward me, straight and tall with the firm steps of a young man.”

“I decided I needed to be direct even blunt and so I challenged him, ‘So why did you allow Sarah to throw me out—Ishmael and I almost died.’ ”

“ ‘I was very disturbed about it and it pained me more than I can tell you, but it was the only way.’ He looked at me intently, determined that I should believe him.”

“ ‘The only way?’ I demanded, ‘Send us out to the desert to die! The only way?’ I was trembling with the effort not to shout, not display any weakness. ’You could have protected me from her. You could have protected Ishmael, your son. You were weak!,’ I pointed my finger at him, ‘You were nothing but an old man who let his wife push him around.’ By now my whole body was shaking with rage, all the rage that I had held inside me all those years. I immediately regretted insulting him in that way, but,” she smiled impishly, “then again maybe he deserved it. ‘And,’ Abraham pleaded, ‘if you had stayed,’ he held his hands, ’you and Ishmael would have been second best, you would have been the servant girl who had the mistress’ baby. Ishmael would have been a nothing.’ ”

“ ‘Maybe that would have been better,’ I spat bitterness at him, ‘don’t you understand that Ishmael would have died if I had not found water just then. Besides, you never contacted us, you never tried to see your son. You came now, you could have come then.’ ”

“ ‘But God promised that Ishmael…’ I cut him off, ’What a coward! Now you’re hiding behind God!’ I said in disgust.”

“ ‘I knew you would be all right and those traders…I sent them,’ he smiled sheepishly. ‘This isn’t their usual route. I sent them to find out about you. They told me you were doing well and a very prosperous business woman at that!’ ” He looked at me hoping that the compliment would soften me up a little.”

“I don’t think I answered him. I was still shaking with anger and I didn’t know what to say. Later I thought of demanding to know why he hadn't come himself but I just couldn’t think of it at the time.”

“ ‘Let me camp near by. Think about what I have said.’ He reached out to touch my sleeve but I pulled back. ‘I know that you are angry. I’d be. But look around you; what you see here with Ishmael and his family is just the beginning of a great clan. If you had stayed, you would have been another servant girl.’ ”

“ ‘But,’ I struggled to hold back my tears, ‘I was your concubine and I would have seen you. Didn’t you realize that I loved you.’ I surprised myself by my admission and immediately regretted exposing myself in that way.”

“ ‘And,’ he said softly, ’don’t you realize that I loved you. I still do. But what was I to do. Keep you as a servant?’ He had the look of a man in love—I could see it in the soft smile in his eyes. ‘Think about it, can we talk about it tomorrow?’ ”

“ ‘All right, except I really don’t know what there is to talk about.’ I said, but I wondered how convincing I sounded.” She wrinkled her brow and smiled to herself as if to acknowledge that she was weakening and glad of it.

“I was up all night. He had an answer for everything, and that kept me quiet but it didn’t change my anger—he said hardly a word to show that he appreciated what he’d put me through. And that thought made me all the more furious. But there was that look in his eyes. Seeing his desire for me, awakened my desire for him. My body was betraying my anger.”

“The next day we sat in the early chill, warmed by the sun filtering through the palm trees. He asked me, ‘Did you think about what I said?’ ”

“ ‘All night.’ ”

“ ‘I did too. I kept wondering what I could say or do…’ ”

“Not knowing what to respond I asked, ‘What has happened to you during all these years?’ ”

“ ‘Shortly after you left, I went through another ordeal—I don’t want to make light of what you went through, but still it was very hard for me.’ He turned to me and said emphatically, ‘I hope you believe that.’ ”

“I didn’t answer.  I just chewed on a piece of bread left over from the breakfast we’d had and waited for him to continue.”

“ ‘God told me to bring Isaac up to the mountain and,’ he hesitated, took a deep breath and added, ‘offer him up.’ ”

“I gasped, ’You mean you slaughtered him for a sacrifice?’ ”

“ ‘Oh no, no, he’s fine.’ He looked away and told me about the binding of Isaac and with his voice cracking, ‘I couldn’t even protest then!’ He turned away and sobbed uncontrollably. After a few minutes he calmed himself, wiped his eyes and said, ‘God was testing me to see if I would protest and I failed!’ He wept again and then looked at me, ‘With that test God was punishing me for sending you and Ishmael off the way I did. God said it was okay, but I’m ashamed to say this,’ he looked away from me, ‘I never protested. I never argued with God the way I argued over strangers in Sodom and Gomorrah. I couldn’t protest over my own son and his mother who I loved! And I failed again by not protesting for Isaac.’ He covered his face with his hands and wept. Abraham  dried his eyes with the back of his hand, and then between sobs, ‘I will carry that shame with me all of my days.’ I couldn’t hold back any longer and I reached out a hand toward his shoulder to comfort him but pulled it back.”

“He wiped his eyes and looked at me, ‘God wanted me to know how it felt, how you felt expecting your son to die.’ He took a deep breath and sighed, ‘It was a harsh lesson.’ He looked up at me, ‘Please forgive me.’ ”

“I felt tears beginning to form in my throat and took a deep breath to prevent myself from crying. Then too, I wanted to put my arms around him to comfort him, but I resisted that as well.”

“We were both silent —I remember he was nervously playing with his beard and then he turned to me, again pleading, ‘I’m very sorry. Forgive me.’ ”

“I took his hand, ‘I have a lot to think about. We’ll talk later.’ ”

“I took a walk under the date palms, their large fronds waving in the hot breeze. I felt calmer now, less angry. He’d suffered too—he understood. Maybe it was time for a new life. I sat down under one of the trees and looked out in to the desert, out on the beige and brown rocks and sand and then around at the lushness of the oasis and thought, that we’d met as equals—he thought of me as the matriarch of a great clan. It was time. I decided to accept his proposal. Then I wondered if a man his age could still father a child? I decided that if he did, I’d insist that they would be part of my clan and not part of his. I know the records show that it was his condition, but the truth is that it was mine. He readily agreed.”

So there it is. Now that you know all my secrets, let an old lady get some rest.  

*Notes

The Biblical account of Hagar/Keturah is found in Genesis Chapters 16, 21 and 25. See Rashi to Gen. 25.1 where he identifies Keturah with Hagar and says that the name Keturah was given to  her because her deeds were as pleasant as rain.  Midrash Bereshit Rabbah 45.1 and Pirke d’Rabbi Eliezer 26 speak about how Pharaoh, Keturah’s father, would rather that she was a servant for Abraham and Sara, than the mistress of one of the great houses of Egypt. Pirke d’Rabbi Eliezer 30 identifies Keturah with ketoret or incense.