A Lineage of Grace (8 page)

Her cheeks burned. Just as Onan had said, Judah would do nothing. He would go off to tend his sheep and leave it in her hands to woo righteousness from Onan!

“Do you know so little of your own sons, Judah?” Er had been incapable of love, and Onan was eaten up with jealousy and avarice, his only ambition to grasp everything he could now that his older brother was dead and couldn’t protect himself. Judah might as well have said it straight out: It was up to her to protect her husband’s birthright and portion. It was up to her to find a way to have a child.

“I know my sons,” Judah said grimly, glaring at her.

She fought her tears, for she knew Judah would have no respect for her if she shed them. “Why do you refuse to confront the sin that goes on before your eyes? You never called Er to account, and now you look the other way while Onan refuses—”

“Don’t tell me how to run my life or my family!”

“I would never assume to usurp Bathshua’s place!”

Judah’s eyes widened in surprise, and then his face paled in rage. “You’ve said enough.” He spoke with deadly calm.

Tamar saw his anger and didn’t care. If he wanted to hit her, let him. She’d been hit before, and in this household she had no doubt she would be hit again. She would not face this lion like one of his sheep!

“When you gave the bride-price to my father, a covenant was made between you.” It was all she could do to speak in quiet reason and not scream out her frustration. “I became the wife of your son Er, and as your son’s wife, I became
your daughter
. Will you allow me to be treated like a harlot? Surely a man who defended his sister against the prince of Shechem—”

“Those circumstances were entirely different!” he interrupted, his face white.

Tamar realized she had torn open an old wound and tried to make amends. “I’m part of your family, Judah.” Clearly, he didn’t embrace her as a daughter, but he still owed her consideration. He couldn’t allow her rights to be trodden beneath Onan’s feet.

“Be patient, Tamar. I’ve lost Er. I don’t want to battle Onan.” He groaned in frustration. “There must be some other way!”

There was, but she loathed mentioning it. He must know as well as she did the only other alternative open to them. She swallowed hard, her cheeks going hot. “If you prefer, you can follow Canaanite custom and perform the duty yourself.”

His head came up. Clearly, he thought her suggestion as repugnant as she did. “I’m Hebrew, not Canaanite.”

“I meant no offense.”

“If you were a woman fully grown, you could make Onan forget himself instead of dumping your problem in my lap!”

Her eyes welled with hurt tears. She was woman enough to conceive. That’s all that was required of her. Or had he forgotten? Did she have to become wily and devious in order to fulfill her duty to
his
dead son? Did Judah expect her to behave like a harlot and take from Onan what he should freely give? Perhaps Judah expected her to run to her sister in Timnah and ask for instructions in the erotic arts! Perhaps she should adorn herself in veils and bells so Onan would be so overcome by lust that he would forget his greed and unwittingly fulfill his obligation!

Tamar trembled in anger.

Once again, Judah would turn away from his responsibilities. He wanted her to plot and scheme and entice Onan into doing what was right to save himself trouble.

“I will not play the harlot.”

“Why not?” He gave a cynical laugh. “Women have done it for years.”

“When will you do what is right?”

“Get out!”

Tamar fled the house in tears. Acsah followed. “What’s happened, Tamar? What were you and Judah shouting about?”

Tamar took up her hoe and began beating the ground with it. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she dashed them away and went on working.

“Tell me, Tamar. Did Onan mistreat you? Is he like Er after all?”

“Leave me alone, Acsah. Just let me work in peace.” She would not pile further humiliation upon herself by sharing her shame and Judah’s cowardice.

* * *

Once again the conjugal room was prepared, for there were still six days remaining in the wedding week. Onan was in even higher spirits, sure that he had won his way. He held his head up like a triumphant warrior and took Tamar’s hand as Acsah led them once again to the bedchamber. Tamar went willingly, hoping he would repent and fulfill his duty.

He did not.

While he slept, Tamar sat weeping in the farthest corner of the room, her head covered with her black
tsaiph
. She was bereft, overcome with shame and humiliation. Onan was destroying her hope for an honorable future. If he had his way, she would never bear children for Judah’s household. She might as well be dead!

It wasn’t until the sun rose that Tamar found death
had
come.

And taken Onan.

FOUR

The household was in an uproar, and Tamar was in the middle. Those who hadn’t believed Bathshua’s stories about Tamar being somehow responsible for Er’s death were now convinced she was responsible for Onan’s. Even Tamar began to wonder if she was somehow to blame. Two husbands dead in a year’s time? What ill fortune! How could this be? Her emotions were in tatters. Both Er and Onan had been wicked, but there were many wicked men who were walking and talking and carrying on as usual. Why had her husbands been singled out?

Tamar’s throat closed hot; her eyes burned. She was innocent. She’d had nothing to do with these strange deaths, but rumors were rampant. Gossip ripped the household into factions, and Bathshua gossiped most of all. How could her mother-in-law call her a witch? She had never cast a spell or uttered an incantation. She wanted to defend herself, but every time she started to speak, she would see the look on others’ faces and know it was no use. They already believed the lies and were afraid.

Tamar was afraid too. From the day she had entered this household, she’d been treated like a despised slave. Everyone knew Er had abused her, and yet no one had uttered a word of compassion or lifted a finger to help her. And now, even though Onan had used her for his selfish pleasure and had denied her right to mother an heir who would claim Er’s portion, everyone believed she had wished him dead. It wasn’t true! She had come into this household hoping to be a good wife and to bear children. It was the God of Judah’s father who had struck these young men down. Hadn’t Judah said as much himself the day Er died?

But Judah didn’t say that anymore.

Judah didn’t say
anything
! He brooded and guzzled wine to forget his troubles while Bathshua filled his ears with lies. Tamar knew it must be easier for her father-in-law to think she was at fault than believe his God was destroying his family. Who would be next? Shelah? Bathshua?

When Judah looked at her, she saw his anger, his suspicion. He sought someone to blame for his wretchedness. And everyone in the household pointed to her. That made it easier for Judah to cast blame as well.

Bathshua’s hatred permeated the house. Tamar couldn’t get away from it. Even when she was working outside, Tamar sensed Bathshua’s malice. “I want her out of this house and away from my family!”

Didn’t Bathshua understand that by stoking the fires that already burned, she was destroying her household? Why not plead with the God of Judah for mercy? Why not inquire of Jacob what must be done to turn the winds in their favor? Why did Judah sit and brood in silence and let his family fall apart around him?

Acsah urged Tamar repeatedly, “Try to speak with him, Tamar.”

“I cannot. I won’t respond to Bathshua’s lies, even to defend myself.”

“Everyone is against you!”

“If the God of Judah took Er and Onan, what can I do to make things right? It’s up to Judah. He’s the head of this house.”

“Bathshua is the head.”

“Judah has allowed it! Whatever happens to me is in his hands. All I can do is wait and see what he will do.” Despite what people thought or said about her, custom still required Shelah to give her children. But would Judah follow through now that his second son was dead? Would he entrust Shelah to her with two sons already in the grave?

Tamar wept in secret at the cruel things said about her, but she maintained her composure in the presence of others. Even if she were to grovel and cower and plead before Bathshua, it wouldn’t change the woman’s blackened heart. Tamar strove to maintain her dignity before her enemies.

The mourning period passed, and the weeks wore on.

Tamar waited. Sooner or later her father-in-law would have to make a decision.

* * *

Judah allowed seventy-five days to pass before he summoned Tamar. He had done nothing but think about the girl over the past weeks. She had a right to Shelah and children, but he was afraid his last son would die if he married her. Bathshua insisted Tamar was evil and casting spells, but why would the girl do such things? She needed sons to provide for her. She needed a husband to give her those sons. Why kill her best chances for a secure future? As a childless widow, she had no hope.

Bathshua remained bitter and adamant. “Don’t give her my last son! I’ll hate you for the rest of my life if you do! She mustn’t have Shelah!” When Bathshua wasn’t railing and threatening, she was seeking the counsel of her teraphim. The house was stifling with the cloying scent of incense. Every other day some medium was coming to the door, claiming to have messages from the dead.

“Get rid of Tamar.” Bathshua was rabid. “Get that evil girl out of my house!”

Judah had never seen Tamar cast a spell or utter a single incantation, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t. She might not be as open as his wife, who had never made a secret of her passion for Canaanite deities.

Judah knew God had taken Er and that He had taken Onan as well. Perhaps, if he had done as Tamar asked and confronted Onan for his sin . . . Judah didn’t think long on that possibility. God may have struck down his sons, but the girl was a bad omen. She’d been nothing but trouble since he brought her into his house. If he got rid of her, perhaps he would have some peace.

Shelah was the only son Judah had left. Bathshua was right. The boy must be protected. Tamar was the one constant in the midst of the disasters that had befallen his household. Judah couldn’t risk Shelah’s life by giving him to her. Besides, Shelah was afraid of Tamar. Bathshua had convinced the boy he would die if he lay with Tamar.

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

Tamar’s words pricked his conscience, but he hardened his heart against them. He was only protecting his family. Why should he give his last son to this dangerous girl? Why take any risk? Why drive a bigger wedge between himself and his wife? Why cause himself more grief?

Besides, Tamar was probably barren anyway. In all the months she’d been with Er, she hadn’t conceived. She hadn’t been desirable enough to sway Onan. Why should he waste Shelah on this wretched little witch? Shelah was his last surviving son, his only heir, his last hope. He wouldn’t do it!

Judah sent for his son. “Go to Hirah and remain in Adullam until I send for you.”

Relieved of his duty, Shelah praised his father’s decision and obeyed with alacrity. Judah felt a twinge of shame, but it quickly disappeared. He’d protect his son—even at the cost of his own honor.

* * *

Tamar knew something more had gone wrong when Acsah came out to her and worked in disheartened silence. “What is it, Acsah? What’s happened?”

“Judah sent Shelah away this morning.”

Tamar’s heart sank. “He must have sent him to see about the flocks.”

“The flocks are not anywhere near Adullam, Tamar. That’s where Shelah has gone.”

Tamar looked at the ground she was working. “There’s nothing I can do but wait, Acsah. And hope.”

“Indeed, there is nothing you can do.” Acsah wept.

When Judah sent for her, Tamar went eagerly, hoping he would have some explanation. However, the moment she saw her father-in-law, she knew Acsah was right. Shelah was gone, and there was nothing to be done about it.

“I’ve made a difficult decision,” Judah said slowly, unable to look her in the eyes. “Shelah is too young to take on the responsibilities of a husband.”

Shelah was two years older than she was, but Tamar didn’t quibble. Judah was making excuses. They both knew it. Arguing with him now would only set his heart against her. Let Bathshua browbeat him with lies. The truth would become clear in time. She would be obedient. She would be patient. She would behave with dignity, even if he behaved with cowardice. Time was her ally. Time and necessity. Judah needed her. Er needed a son to carry on the family line. If Judah failed to grant Tamar the right to bear that son, he would be a man who had forsaken all honor. Could such a man ever be trusted?

“When Shelah is older, I will send for you.”

Tamar blinked, confused. “Send for me?” What did he mean? She searched his face and saw his eyes grow hard.

“Bathshua is having your things packed as we speak. She will have one of the servants take you and your nurse back to your father’s house.”

“My father’s house? But, my lord, this is—”

“Don’t argue!” Judah wouldn’t even allow her to open her mouth in her own defense. “This is best. You will remain in your father’s house as a widow until I call for you.”

“Best?” She was cold with shock. “Am I to be cast out for the sins done against
me
?”

“You’re not being expelled. You’re going home.”

“
This
is my home. As cold and inhospitable as it’s always been!”

“Say nothing more against my family. It’s for their sakes I make this decision. Your presence has turned my household into a battlefield.”

“You are
unjust
!” She began to cry, shaming herself completely.

He looked away. “Resorting to tears won’t change my mind,” he said coldly.

Anger spurred her. “Do you think my father will welcome me with open arms?” She struggled for control over her unraveling emotions. “A widow twice over? Childless? Rejected and cast out?”

Judah was implacable. “Tell him I want you to remain a widow in his house until Shelah has grown up. When that day comes, I will send for you.”

Tamar lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “Will you?”

“I said I would.”

She refused to look away. Let him see the faith she had in him now that he had forsaken her.

Judah’s face reddened and his eyes shifted. “You don’t believe me?”

She gave him no answer, though she wondered. When had she ever seen Judah do what was right?

“I promise you!” he said quickly. “There! Now will you go without more distress?”

Content with that, Tamar did as he commanded.

Bathshua stood just outside the door, triumphant and pitiless. “Your nurse is waiting for you outside.” Fighting tears, Tamar stepped past her, but Bathshua wasn’t satisfied. She followed Tamar to the door and stood watching. “We’re well rid of you!”

Tamar didn’t look back. Nor did she look at Acsah, afraid that if she did so, she’d burst into tears and give Bathshua even more satisfaction. “Judah is sending us back to my father.”

Acsah’s eyes flashed. “I shall lay a curse upon Bathshua and her household.” She stepped forward, but Tamar grasped her arm, yanking her back.

“You will not! This is my home, my family. No matter what Judah thinks, this is where I belong.”

Acsah’s eyes filled with angry tears. “They do not deserve you,” she said under her breath.

“Judah chose me, Acsah. I will live in hope of being worthy of his choice. If you must speak, say prayers on his family’s behalf.”

No servant was given to accompany or protect them. They were given two small barley loaves and a skin of water to share.

When Tamar was well out of sight of the house, she fell to her knees and sobbed. Filling her hands with dust, she covered her head. Unable to console her, Acsah wept as well.

It was only eight miles to Zimran’s house. The hot sun was heavy upon them, but not as heavy as their hearts. It was dusk before Tamar arrived at her father’s door. He was not pleased to see her.

* * *

Zimran ordered everyone out. Tamar’s mother, Acsah, her sisters and brothers all hastened to obey. She wished she could flee her father’s wrath as well. She had no choice but to stand silent as he unleashed his fury upon her. Perhaps, in the end, he would show mercy.

“I gave you to Judah’s son so that you would bear children for him and keep peace between us! You have failed me! You have failed us all!”

She must keep her wits about her, or she was lost. “Judah gave me his word that he would send for me when Shelah is old enough to fulfill his duty to me.”

Zimran turned a scornful eye upon her. “And you believed that Hebrew? You fool! Shelah is only a few years younger than Er. Three or four at the most! And now Judah says Shelah isn’t old enough yet to father children?
Ha!
If he’s too young, why take him to the sheepshearing? You should have insisted upon your rights!”

She stumbled under the blow of his hand, falling to her knees. “I did all I could, Father.”

“Not enough!”
Zimran paced, his face red, his hands balled. “You should have remained in his house rather than come back here. What good are you to me? You bring shame upon my house!”

Tamar pressed a hand over her throbbing cheek. Her heart pounded with fear. She must not give in to it. She must
think
. “Judah promised, Father. He
promised
.”

“So what? What good are vows with a Hebrew? The Hebrews made an agreement with Shechem, didn’t they? Look what happened to them!” He stood over her. “You’re no longer my responsibility! If Judah doesn’t want you in his house, why should I want you in mine? You’ll bring us all ill fortune!”

She must survive. “If you’re willing to risk it, Father, ignore Judah’s wishes. Cast me out!”

“Judah’s wishes? What wishes?”

“To build his household.” Was her father still afraid of Judah? She could only hope so. “Will Bathshua bear more sons for Judah, Father? She’s dry as dust and cold as stone. Can Judah give Shelah to another woman before he’s fulfilled his obligation to me? Judah wants to build his household, and I’m the one he chose to be the childbearer. Has anything changed?”