The Outcast Series

They call me “the old woman” now, behind my back. To my face it’s still a respectful “grandmother.” And the little ones still come to hear the stories of the old days, the days of struggle and doubt. But there’s no one left who’s ever been to Egypt, or lived in a town. Sometimes even I forget that I was ever anyone other than the mother of Ishmael. But I had a name, once. Once, a long time ago, I was Hagar.

I was 14 when Pharaoh gave me to Abraham as part of Sarai’s bride price. And of course I was delighted. In the king’s house I was only one slave among many, but in a foreigner’s household, even a rich one, an Egyptian slave would have many opportunities to move into a position of power and influence. After all, what was I competing against, anyway? A bunch of rustics. They probably couldn’t even read, and they certainly didn’t know anything about real culture and civiliza-tion. This could only be a step up for me.

You do remember what happened, don’t you? How Abram pretended that Sarai wasn’t his wife but his sister, and so naturally Pharaoh’s men took Sarai for the king’s house. She was beautiful, after all, even I have to admit that, and Pharaoh ’d never had a Habiru woman before, so of course he would be interested. And he paid Abram well, too; only barbarians steal each other’s women. I can’t tell you how many cattle and sheep and donkeys she cost him, plus enough slaves to look after them, not to mention me. Pharaoh even gave away some camels. I think Abram was the first person ever to take camels into Canaan. But Abram’s God intervened, and scared Pharaoh so badly that he evicted the whole lot of them without even asking for his property back. Including me.

Well, I hadn’t expected that, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. There were still opportunities. I was assigned to be Sarai’s maidservant, which certainly was better than weaving or cooking, and it gave me a lot of chances to be noticed by Abram. But you know what? He never even glanced at me. You’d think the man was blind - or even a eunuch - for all the good my pretty Egyptian clothes and Egyptian eye-paint did.

In the whole time I lived with them, Abram never took another concubine but me. And the only reason he finally got around to paying me any attention was because Sarai told him to. But that didn’t matter, I thought, this was the chance I’d been waiting for, and Sarai was getting old even though she was still pretty so of course I’d be set for life as Abram’s second wife. Especially since I got pregnant right away. All the years they’d been married, and she never conceived even once! Any other man would have had a dozen more wives by this time. So I was sitting pretty, I thought, and even if Abram didn’t give me my own tent and maidservant right away the least he could do was get somebody else to tend to Sarai. I shouldn’t have to be waiting on her hand and foot in my condition, I was carrying his first-born, after all. And what was she, anyway, just another woman past her prime who hadn’t been able to perform the simplest, most basic duty of a wife - to bear children. I deserved better from her. I deserved better from Abram, too. I still think so. Sarai was spoiled, that’s all. He should have taken a second wife years before and gotten her used to the idea that she couldn’t be queen bee all the time. No Egyptian husband would have put up with the nonsense she put him through.

When I complained to Abram I found out that Sarai had gotten in before me. “This is between you and Sarai,” he said. “I never interfere in domestic matters.” Well, I knew that, hadn’t I been watching her wind him around her little finger for years? But this was to be HIS SON. He should have taken SOME responsibility. I wept and I pleaded but it didn’t do me any good. The tears were real, too, this time. I didn’t have to think sad thoughts and hold my breath to make them come.

So the next time she beat me (it was for spilling lamp oil on her rose-colored wool tunic) I ran away. I didn’t know where I was going to go, I just knew I couldn’t stay another day in the same house with that woman. So I just took off in the direction of Egypt. I suppose I wasn’t really thinking clearly, but I might have run across a caravan that would take me the rest of the way.