Strangers

Sara looked worriedly down inter her tightly clasped hands. This move would certainly present some challenges. Though it wasn’t as if the last move had been easy. It never was easy just to pack up and go, not since the first big move two years ago. But resettling was what people did in the desert. Sara had lived with her husband and nephew in the desert for years and she herself had grown up in a similar climate and has known something of the nomadic life. But every time they stayed put for more than a week she managed to become attached to her surroundings. She enjoyed a locale, she thrived on community. But the only stable community she was allowed was that of her husband and nephew. Ever since the big split from the family clan, they never seemed able to settle.

A year and a half ago Sara thought surely they had found a place. Surely her husband was content with the land if he was building an altar there. After all, what would be the point of erecting an altar if you weren’t planning on living nearby so you could offer the appropriate sacrifices on it regularly and beseech the god for whom you built it? Who in their right mind would build such a monument only to leave it days later? But this is what her husband did. And when once again they pitched their tents after another week’s journey, he built another altar. But Sara was wary this time and didn’t try too hard to meet any of the locals. Sure enough the sign was soon given and away they went. Only this time their departure was attributed to a divinely received message. Sara wasn’t sure what to think about these messages anymore. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe and respect her husband. On the contrary, she held him in the highest regard. But it was hard to hold on to a dream. It was nice to think that they were special and part of some “grand plan”, but in reality what were they really doing? Pitching tents, tending the herds, making cheese, mending clothes, fixing food. Sara was having a hard time seeing what all those things had to do with El, the God of her husband. Sometimes Sara thought about how much easier it was to serve her father’s god. All Baal required was the performance of certain rituals once a month and then one knew the rain would come. What El seemed to require was unremitting obedience and who knows if the rains would come? It seemed to Sara that the current drought would never be broken. Perhaps Baal hasn’t forgotten the daughter of Haran, and he is awaiting the proper rituals. But there was no question of going back to that. Once you marry you take on a new culture of sorts, complete with a new god and ritualistic practices. And if the rains don’t come… Sara was unable to complete the thought, for her nephew had just entered the tend where she was sitting.

“Aunt Sara, I’ve just returned from my visit to our neighboring flock-herder. He’s already made plans to move on. The land simply won’t support him, the drought is too fierce.”

“Yes, nephew, but that does not mean we also have to go. If the rains come soon,”

“It is too late for the rains! Even if they started tonight it would do us no good. We will be out of pastureland in a week’s time. There is no way we can stay. Surely you and Uncle Abram know this.”

“We discuss it every evening.” Sara paused, continuing only reluctantly, “And your uncle is almost in complete accord with you.”

A look of triumph and elation crossed his face and Sara attempted to head it off, “But he is still awaiting confirmation of the decision.”

Her nephew looked grim and opened his mouth as if to reply, thought better of it, and slowly backed out of the tent, bidding his aunt farewell as he did so.

Sara sighed after he had gone. The pressure was mounting and it was difficult even for her to see any compelling reason why they shouldn’t pick up and move to a place where food was more plentiful. But Abram thought this was too big of a move to do so without the content of his god. If they didn’t leave, how could they continue to carry out the will of El? Their flocks needed vegetation to live and Abram needed his flocks to survive. Especially without the support of either of our families, thought Sara somewhat ruefully. But what could she do? Sara felt that her only hope lay in convincing her husband to move before it was too late. Sara wanted to prevent disaster, not act in the midst of it.

The tent flap waved in a gust of wind and Sara rose from her musings. Time was previous while water was wanting and it would be better for her to be encouraging the servants and helping them with their hard tasks than to stay sequestered in the troubles of her own mind.

Part II

Step, step. Step, step. Every step made her nervous. Every step heightened the fear. Every step brought her closer to a place to foreign and so unknown to her it was difficult to imagine. The natives were said to have no respect for women. The men had a reputation for getting what they wanted. Sara shuddered. Not only was her sex against her but she was also considered by many to be beautiful. What would happen when they entered this land? What would happen if she was noticed?

The sand was hot and the sun beat down upon them. The mid-day break was always a relief to the travel weary nomads. Sara rested for a moment in the shade of her husband’s tent. She wasn’t sure why he wanted to see her, but she was hoping for an explanation for their hasty and unannounced departure that morning. Despite her own support for the move the suddenness of it had unnerved her. Sara also didn’t understand the choice of destination. Egypt wasn’t the only country around that was being spared this gruesome famine.

A voice called from within, “Sara? Is that you there lingering at the tent flap?”

“It is I,” she replied as she entered and greeted her husband, “I come as you called.”

Abram’s look turned solemn as she removed her head covering. “You are very beautiful, my wife.”

“I thank you, my husband.”

“I am afraid for what will happen once we are free from famine.” Abram stared at the ground. “I fear they shall take you from me and have me killed.”

Sara waited in respectful silence. Abram never mentioned a problem without already having a course of action in mind.

“But if you say you are my sister,” here his eyes met hers, “I shall be safe.”

Sara remained silent as she considered this course of action. Would the Egyptians believe such a tale? It was quite probable that if they did, Abram would not be treated badly. But what of herself? What would happen to Sara? Well, it wouldn’t be worse than if they took me by force. She looked at her husband thoughtfully. “I am willing to do this for you, my brother. But what of your god? Is this in accord with his will?”

Abram did not answer for a long time. He seemed to be in deep conversation with himself and although she greatly feared to interrupt him, Sara was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten she was there. Finally he stirred and said in a low voice, “I have heard nothing about this. But some say where there is no guidance there is freedom.” He looked at Sara with a troubled expression, “Why do I feel more enslaved then ever?”

Sara did not have an answer to that. She merely reached over and embraced him solemnly. “We will act according to what we know is best.”

The journey to Egypt was a difficult one, especially for the servants. They did not know the details of every journey they made, but they had an idea that some special plan of the gods concerned their master and land as an inheritance. And based on the altars they had seen Abram build, that inheritance was being left behind them the further south they traveled. Yes, there was a famine and everyone recognized the need for action, but the closer they marches to Egypt the more concerned they became for their welfare once they arrived. How would they be received? Would the Egyptians recognize Abram for the influential and important person he had been becoming in his own lands before the droughts forced him south to seek the help of strangers? Would the master be killed and the slaves and women be kept as spoil for Egypt? It was a gamble, and everyone knew it.

----------------------------------------------

“Have you seen the new refugees, Ameres? They look like a sorry lot, soon to be a stink in the Pharaoh’s nose.”

“Indeed, Chebron. But what can be done? They come seeking aid and we give it to them,” he paused, grinning slightly, “for a price.”

“Now that Canaanite who arrived last feast day. He seemed promising. A boon to our land, so he will be.”

“His sister certainly was favorable to our Pharaoh. That is why he is being treated so. If she were his wife, it would not go so well for the foreigner.”

“You are wise, Ameres, in the ways of this court. Perhaps you could advise me on another matter…”

Abram looked to the setting sun, wishing in his heart he were settled in the land promised to him. “When will I truly be at rest?” he asked the insects chirping nearby. “When will peace and wholeness be mine?”

“The royal court has been asking itself that for the past few days, too, Abram the Canaanite.”

Abram turned at the sound of his friend, Chebron’s voice. “Is that so, Chebron? Then perhaps they ought to follow my advice concerning care of the herds.”

The Egyptian smiled wryly. “It is not regarding so trivial a matter that I have come to see you.” He paused, “It is regarding your wife.”

Abram looked nonplussed. “Oh?”

“You know to what I refer,” he pressed, “the illness in my master’s house is not without cause, and there is no other matter which could cause the gods so much anger as this. She whom you said was your sister is really your wife.”

Abram stared steadily as the swiftly darkening sky, “I do miss her terribly.”

“The Pharaoh will see you in the morning,” came the brusque reply.

“Yes, he will.”

The following day Abram and his servants once again packed their belongings, now doubled in size, and prepared for another journey.

“Is the famine ended?” asked one servant to another.

“Whether it is or not, there’s no use staying here.” Came the reply, “I think the master has received as much as he will from the Pharaoh.”

“El sure takes good care of our master, doesn’t he?” Asked the voice in a hush.