Dear diary,
Now, even tho Jehovah kept promising Sarah that she would beget whole multitudes of nations of offspring, she still hadn’t yet conceived a child — not even once in her life. She was often in love, and she acted upon her love with many playmates (as it is written, “Sarah is Lilith’s”; and in life there can be no higher calling); but the process of procreation had yet to run riot.
And although Sarah was not absolutely preoccupied with Jehovah’s prediction, she did consider it earnestly. After the God’s last dreamy visitation, she reasoned to herself:
“Alright, so he expressly quashed the notion that I should be trying to lure couples together at the law firm to act as surrogate childbearers for me. Nevertheless, Jehovah does seem to be hinting that I myself shall personally beget a child with someone who works for my travelmate’s company.” (Again, it’s worth repeating that Abram himself shot blanks, therefore to get a child from him was literally inconceivable.) “Now, let’s think about this a little more: WHO, out of all the staff that I know at Abram’s law firm, might supply the answer to this riddle?”
And the first name that came to mind was Hagar — Abram’s secretary — as she was intelligent and attractive, and Sarah had long had a crush on her.
So Sarah goes to Abram and sez: “Abe. Hi. Are you busy? Can we chat for a moment? I have a question.”
& Abram sez: “Shoot.”
So Sarah gently pushes aside the tall stacks of paperwork that crowd the desktop (some of which fall to the floor) and takes a seat on the desk. As she speaks, she slowly reclines back, while swinging her leg:
“It’s nothing serious. I’m just wondering if you’d object to me having a fling with Hagar, your beautiful secretary. You see, Jehovah has promised me a child, and, for the life of me, I can’t figure out how he intends to get this done. It’s not like Jehovah to just go around making promises that he has no intention of fulfilling, such as offering an everlasting kingship to a family line that dries up after only a few generations, or deeding land to a nation but then neglecting to let them actually settle it, or proclaiming ‘I will send you a savior soon,’ and then NEVER sending one. (How does ‘soon’ become ‘never’?) So I trust that this promise of pregnancy which the God keeps reiterating is trustworthy and legit — he even drew up a contract, using a template that he found in your filing cabinets here, and signed his name in fiery blood, in my dream last night. So what I’m thinking is that he’s probably trying to nudge me to act upon my secret affection for Hagar. Cuz the truth is that I am infatuated: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since you first hired her. I see her gold spectacles and her flowing brunette mane in every fantasy that I succumb to. And, since it’s clear that you and I aren’t exactly going to replenish the workforce alone, I thought it might be worth an attempt to obtain a child by her.”
And Abram hearkens to the voice of Sarah, and answers: “Whatever you desire, that is my wish. Shall I buzz Hagar in?” And he presses the button at the side of his desk and sez:
“Martha, dear?”
“Yep!”
“Send in that clerk who’s been researching the Pauline fraud case.”
“You mean Hagar, the paralegal?”
“Yes — that’s exactly who I mean.”
“Will do, Mr. Abram!”
After a brief interval, Hagar opens the door of Abram’s office. The scene presents Sarah reclining on the desk, while the boss is leaning back in his swivel chair. When Abram sees their visitor has arrived, he smiles and stands, making a welcoming gesture with his arms:
“Miss Hagar! Come in, please. The reason I requested your presence here is that I want you to meet Sarah.”
Thus, after ten months of working with Hagar on the Pauline fraud case, Abram introduces the damsel to his longtime travelmate.
“I’ll leave you two alone.”
Sarah and Hagar end up hitting it off: it turns out they both love white rum and English Romantic poetry. In no time at all, the women become playmates, and Sarah conceives: and when she realizes that she has conceived, her mistress appears even more exquisite in her eyes.
*
Now eventually Abram shows up outside of Sarah’s abode in Mamre. To announce his arrival, he taps on the frame (there are no doors: only entryways with drapery that continually billows in the breeze). The drapes are slightly parted, and he can see that Hagar is reclining alongside Sarah.
“Abram? Is that you? What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in!”
“Hello Sarah. Hello Hagar.”
“Greetings, boss. You’re looking dapper.”
“Thanks, dear Hagar. But I’m feeling a little sad because I’m not here for a very pleasant reason.”
“What’s the matter?” the women cry.
“I hate to admit this, but ever since you two have found friendship and love — which, by the way, I’m extremely pleased about; and I sincerely rejoiced to hear the rumors that a child shall be born unto you — I say, since the moment that you two locked eyes, you’ve spent all your time realizing your bliss together, alternating between heady conversation and lusty embrace, and, as a result, the progress that we were making on the Pauline fraud case, I fear, might come screeching to a halt. For the court date is coming up, and I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stall — surely they’ll let us do an official postponement once or twice, but not repeatedly; and I’m afraid our requests for time will begin to seem unreasonable. Now, if Hagar’s contribution were replaceable, I’d simply give some other assistant the assignment; but your work, my dear, is topnotch: I’ve looked over what you’ve accomplished so far, and it’s brilliant — in short, I’m simply lost without you!”
“Mr. Abram,” sez Hagar, “don’t allow anxiety to shave an atom from your patriarchal stature. I will complete the research this instant.” And she arises and retrieves a stack of folders off the nightstand, declaring: “I had the case right here, all along — I had planned on finalizing it this evening. Here is my promise to you: I shall have it on your desk by sunup. You will NOT need to file a postponement order.”
Abram is visibly dazed. Between the sight of Hagar’s splendor, and the news that all will turn out fine on the business end, he is rendered speechless. All he can do is stand and stare.
Now Sarah, reclining, cheerfully breaks the silence: “This was my fault, in a way. For I knew that Hagar was keeping up with the firm’s work, but I didn’t think to tell you, dearest Abram, because none of the deadlines had even begun to approach yet. But I should have known that you, as a prudent planner and a dedicated fretter — in other words, as a good businessman — would be wanting to know that everything’s all squared away and ‘hermetically sealed’ (as you always say). I should have at least given you a heads-up about Hagar’s progress, so that you could sleep soundly. Let that be a lesson to me: Always err on the side of saying TOO MUCH, rather than just ENOUGH.”
But Abram sez: “No, please, you both are flawless, transparent gems, and I’m an old boulder that’s dusty gray and opaque. I’m sorry I bothered you — go back to your lovemaking. A prairie lawyer should know his place, to keep the harmony. Business is a noble pursuit, but only when it cedes the escalier to poetry. I have overstepped my dominion this day; now, in shame, I flee from your face. But I know that you will forgive my intrusion; thus I blow you both a kiss as I take my leave... and I will cherish the memory of your forms reposing so resplendently on this waterbed.”
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