THE UNBINDING 

By Ezra Goldstein

 

©  Copyright notice by the author. This play is fully protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and all other countries of the copyright union. Inquiries regarding performance rights and royalties should be directed to the author.

NOTES

And then there is the Islamic version of the story, in which it is Ishmael, mythic progenitor of the Arabs, who is nearly sacrificed atop Mt. Moriah. Moslem and Jewish legends say that Mt. Moriah is now Jerusalem, and that the mosque known as the Dome of the Rock shelters the rock to which Isaac or Ishmael was bound, and from which Mohammed departed to heaven.

SCENE

A barren, rocky landscape

CHARACTERS:

(In alphabetical order)

ABRAHAM

A prophet, in his 70s.

ABADDON

A messenger, of any adult age and sex.

ADISHA

Ishmael's wife, in her 20s.

ELIEZER

A servant, in his 70s.

                        ISAAC

Abraham and Sarah's son, about to turn 13.

ISHMAEL

26-year-old son of Abraham and his former concubine, Hagar.

SARAH

Abraham's wife and a former priestess, in her 70s.

Characters are dressed simply in tunics and cloaks such as those still worn by nomadic, desert herdsmen like the Bedouin. Alternatively, they may be dressed in simple, modern clothes. The only exception is Abaddon, who should be dressed in a way that sets him apart from the others. Ideally, he would wear an ephod, a heavy embroidered robe like those seen in bas-relief depictions of Babylonian priests. Abaddon's ephod would be primal looking, of coarse wool, but interwoven with gold.

(At rise: Ishmael stands center stage, leaning on a shepherd's staff. His eyes are closed, as if he has dozed off. A torch planted in the ground flickers beside him.)

(From off stage. Very faint, very distant.)

Mamma! Mamma!

(Ishmael does not react. His eyes stay closed.)

(Also from offstage, louder:)

Don't you hear him?

ISHMAEL:

I hear nothing.

ISAAC:

Mamma!

SARAH:

Listen!

ISHMAEL:

No.

SARAH:

Listen!

ISHMAEL:

Leave me alone.

(Sarah enters, behind Ishmael, outside the light, barely visible. Ishmael does not turn or open his eyes.)

I need you.

ISHMAEL:

It's the wine.

SARAH:

You know better.

ISHMAEL:

It's the wind.

SARAH:

You know me.

ISHMAEL:

Sarah the cruel.

ISAAC:

Mamma!

SARAH:

Sarah the mother.

ISHMAEL:

Sarah the murderer.

SARAH:

Sarah the desperate.

ISHMAEL:

Sarah the witch.

SARAH:

Sarah the priestess. I was. Once. Before I followed Abraham and his God into this wilderness. My powers have dried up in this dry place.

ISHMAEL:

My sheep cry for you. See their tears.

SARAH:

My own son can't hear me.

ISHMAEL:

What's that you say?

SARAH:

Listen. Please.

(Adisha enters just as Ishmael speaks. She is clutching her cloak tightly, as if badly chilled.)

ISHMAEL:

Go away. Leave me in peace.

ADISHA:

But I just got here.

(Ishmael’s head jerks up, his eyes open wide. He shakes his head to clear it. Sarah exits.)

ISHMAEL:

Adisha! I must have dozed off.

(Ishmael embraces Adisha, who still clutches the cloak.)

You're cold.

ADISHA:

I missed you.

ISHMAEL:

Lucky for you I've taken no other wives.

ADISHA:

Lucky for you I like men who talk in their sleep.

ISHMAEL:

You're trembling. Was it the same one--the same nightmare?

ADISHA:

Yes.

(He holds her more closely.)

I wish there were something I could do.

ADISHA:

Just hold me.

ISHMAEL:

Always. Forever.

(Louder than before, more desperate:)

Mamma!

(Ishmael reacts.)

ADISHA:

What is it?

ISHMAEL:

Nothing. Nothing.

ISAAC:

Mamma!

ISHMAEL:

Did you hear it?

ADISHA:

I heard nothing.

ISAAC:

Mamma!

ISHMAEL:

I-I'm sorry.

ADISHA:

What?

ISHMAEL:

I have to help him.

ADISHA:

Who?

ISHMAEL:

A shepherd. In trouble. He needs me.

ADISHA:

I need you.

ISAAC:

Mamma!

ISHMAEL:

I’ll be back as soon as I can. Watch the sheep.

(Ishmael disengages himself from Adisha. He takes the torch and staff and runs offstage.)

ADISHA:

Ishmael!

(Calling after him.)

You'll wish you had other wives. You're not sleeping with me tonight.

(Adisha storms offstage. The stage goes to black. Isaac runs onto a different part of the stage. He is barely visible in the darkness. He stumbles, struggles to his feet, stumbles again.)

ISAAC:

Mamma! Mamma!

(Isaac gets to his feet, stumbles, falls. There is the sound of falling gravel. Isaac starts to get up again as Ishmael comes running on, carrying the torch.)

ISHMAEL:

Stop! Don't move!

(Isaac freezes. Ishmael plants the torch in the ground and approaches Isaac cautiously as if inching his way down a treacherous slope. Ishmael stretches and extends his staff toward Isaac.)

Grab on. Be careful. A hand's breadth and you're over the cliff.

(Isaac starts to edge away in fear.)

No! Don't do that! I won't hurt you. Take the staff.

(After a moment, Isaac reaches toward the extended staff, which is still several inches from his grasp. Ishmael carefully edges toward Isaac. Isaac finally grasps the end of the staff.)

Careful.

(Ishmael pulls as Isaac slowly gets to his feet. When Isaac gets close enough, Ishmael grabs him by the hand. Ishmael uses his staff for leverage as he and Isaac struggle back up the slope. Isaac falls, exhausted, by the torch, badly out of breath. In the light, it can be seen that his clothes are torn and dirty and that he is covered in cuts and bruises.)

Are you all right?

(Isaac nods his head, shakily.)

Can you stand?

(Ishmael helps Isaac to his feet. Isaac wobbles, but appears undamaged.)

You'll live. Here, drink some of this.

(Ishmael hands Isaac his wineskin. Isaac drinks.)

Was it lions? Do you want to tell me about it?

(Isaac hangs his head, appearing more ashamed now than frightened.)

Whatever it is that frightened you--I've been a shepherd long enough to have seen it. And feared it.

ISAAC:

I ran away. A shepherd never runs away--the lambs! They're all alone! I've got to go back.

(Isaac starts off but is gently restrained by Ishmael.)

ISHMAEL:

Rest. You'd be no good to your sheep in your condition.

(Ishmael takes a ram's horn from his belt and blows a long call, then another. He waits a minute listening for a response, then blows the horn again. This time, a faint response can be heard from far off. Ishmael puts down the ram's horn and picks up the torch, which he swings slowly above his head. Ishmael repeats this action periodically over the next several speeches.)

They'll have no trouble seeing our light on a night like this.

ISAAC:

No moon.

ISHMAEL:

I know.

ISAAC:

There was--there was no lion. I just got scared. That's all. I thought I was melting into the darkness. I held my hands in front of my eyes, and I saw nothing. Just stars. And where there weren't stars, the blackness that was everything before there was God, and that would be everything again if God were to go away. I'm not scared of lions. I'm not scared of being alone... I'm not. The darkness... I couldn't stand it. I started to run. It was everything I could do to keep my feet on the ground, to keep the dark from lifting me up and taking me away. I'm so ashamed.

ISHMAEL:

Listen to me. There's nothing so frightening as the darkness that lies between the stars.

ISAAC:

But I bet you never--

ISHMAEL:

I did. When I was just a bit younger than you. Except somehow I managed to run all the way back to camp. By the time I got there, I was so covered with cuts, they thought a lion had got me for sure.

ISAAC:

Did you get into trouble?

ISHMAEL:

No. Not then. My...there was a man there. He told me that I should hold onto God. Hold on tight, he said.

(Recalling a distant memory.)

Grab onto God. Tie yourself to God, and God will tie himself to you. Then there'll be no danger of your slipping away. Into the darkness.

ISAAC:

Did it help?

ISHMAEL:

I never ran away again.

ISAAC:

Do you still hold on to God?

ISHMAEL:

No.

ISAAC:

Why not?

ISHMAEL:

God let go of me.

ISAAC:

Why would he do that?

ISHMAEL:

Ask him.

ISAAC:

Me?

ISHMAEL:

You turn thirteen soon. That's a good age to start talking to God. It's about when--

ISAAC:

What?

ISHMAEL:

When. Your father. When he first heard...

ISAAC:

How do you know about my father? How do you know about God?

(Ishmael abruptly looks offstage, as if he's heard something. Isaac looks closely at Ishmael.)

I think I've seen you before.

ISHMAEL:

They're coming.

ISAAC:

I was very small. I wandered off. Jackals were stalking me. Someone found me--stayed with me. Then left just before.... Was it you?

ISHMAEL:

I have to go. I've my own sheep to see to. I'll leave the torch.

(Ishmael starts offstage.)

ISAAC:

I'll do what you said.

(Ishmael stops.)

What's that?

ISAAC:

Hold onto God.

ISHMAEL:

I was just repeating--Why not? Hold onto God. What harm's in that? Maybe God will do better with you.

(Ishmael exits, leaving his ram's horn behind. Isaac calls after:)

ISAAC:

Who are you? What's your name?

(Isaac stands staring off as Sarah and Eliezer hurry on from the opposite side of the stage.)

SARAH:

Isaac! Are you all right?

ISAAC:

Yes, mamma. I'm fine.

(Sarah embraces Isaac, then holds him away, surveying him. As she does so, Abaddon enters, standing in the shadows at the edge of the stage, unnoticed.)

SARAH:

All these cuts. Are you sure you're all right?

(Sarah takes a cloth and begins to wipe the dirt from Isaac's face as Eliezer goes to retrieve the torch.)

ISAAC:

I ran away, mamma.

SARAH:

Hush. You can tell me about it later.

(Eliezer picks up the torch and surveys the scene. He sees the cliff.)

ELIEZER:

The cliff! It's so close.

ISAAC:

I nearly went over. Another shepherd stopped me, just in time. It's his torch.

ELIEZER:

Where is he? Why did he leave? He should get a reward.

ISAAC:

He left when he saw you coming. He wouldn't even tell me his name.

ELIEZER:

How strange.

SARAH:

Go see to the herd, Eliezer. Can you find your way in the dark?

ELIEZER:

Don't I know these hills and valleys better than I once knew my wife's--sorry, ma’am. You'll be all right here?

SARAH:

Yes, old friend. We'll be fine. Go ahead.

(Sarah continues wiping the dirt from Isaac's face. Eliezer puts down the torch and starts off. He spots the ram's horn and picks it up, turning it over in his hands, in obvious surprise. Sarah notices Eliezer's reaction.)

SARAH:

What is it, Eliezer?

ELIEZER:

Nothing. Just a ram's horn. Most likely the one we heard. The shepherd must have left it.

(Eliezer starts off.)

SARAH:

Let me see it.

ELIEZER:

Yes ma'am.

(Eliezer reluctantly goes to Sarah and hands her the ram's horn. She examines it casually, then hands it back to Eliezer, who is clearly nervous.)

SARAH:

Take it with you, Eliezer. You're the one most likely to see this shepherd again. Thank him for me.

(Eliezer avoids Sarah's gaze.)

ELIEZER:

Yes ma'am.

SARAH:

Eliezer?

ELIEZER:

Yes ma'am?

SARAH:

Be careful.

ELIEZER:

I didn't get this old any other way.

(Eliezer exits.)

(To Isaac:)

This shepherd. Did he say anything to you?

ISAAC:

That he'd once been scared, just like me. That he'd run away, too. That there was a man in his camp who told him that if he held on to God--if he tied himself to God--he'd be safe from the darkness.

SARAH:

He said that?

ISAAC:

It seemed strange to me, mamma. I didn't think anyone else knew about God. Our God, I mean.

SARAH:

Promise me something, Isaac.

ISAAC:

What is it, mamma?

SARAH:

Don't hold too tight.

ISAAC:

What?

(Sarah ignores Isaac, staring off.)

Mamma?

SARAH:

Can you walk?

ISAAC:

Yes, mamma.

SARAH:

Come.

(They exit. Abaddon stays onstage. For a moment he doesn't move, then he slowly walks cross stage, as if covering a great distance, as the light changes to early dawn. Abraham enters, lost in thought. After a moment he sees Abaddon. Abraham holds a shepherd's staff and has a knife stuck into his belt.)

ABRAHAM:

You? I have no business with you. Where is God?

(Turning away from Abaddon, shouting:)

Yahweh!

(Abraham looks off, as if waiting for a response. Abraham finally turns angrily to Abaddon.)

What do you want from me?

ABADDON:

You know what God wants.

ABRAHAM:

I'd prayed that it was only a dream.

(Abaddon says nothing. There is a pause. Finally:)

What happens if I refuse? I lose my herds? My wells? The rain stops? My enemies slit my throat? Tell me what happens worse than the death of my son.

(Abaddon makes no response. Abraham turns away from him and shouts skyward:)

Talk to me!

ABADDON:

Not this time, Abraham.

ABRAHAM:

Talk to me! You owe me that much. Here I am! Abraham, who believed in you when no one else on this earth dared do so. Who put his life and the life of his people in your hands. I sealed my fate to yours with my blood, and with the blood of my sons. You promised that my people would go on forever. How can there be a people without sons?

ABADDON:

Trust God, Abraham.

(To Abaddon:)

I sent one son away at God's command. I will not murder the other!

ABADDON:

You will do as God commands.

ABRAHAM:

No!

ABADDON:

God chose you. You were nothing: the poor son of a poor woodcarver. You would have spent your life making idols, like your father, and his father before him. Who will remember them? Who will care where their bones are buried?

ABRAHAM:

It's my grave that will go untended.

                            (Skyward:)

Let me be a woodcarver again. These hands still have the skill for that.

ABADDON:

It's years too late, Abraham. You have come too far. You owe too much to God.

ABRAHAM:

God owes me a son!

          (Skyward:)

Have you spoken to me for the last time? Is this how it will be from now on? We humans demanding to know why our children die, and you, silent, offering no answers? Is that the covenant I have signed?

ABADDON:

You, a man with a body that grows weak and old, sealed a contract with what always was and always will be.

(Skyward:)

Talk to me! Please. I beg you. Let Isaac live!

(Pause. Abaddon finally breaks the silence.)

ABADDON:

Take Isaac to Moriah.

ABRAHAM:

Talk to me!

ABADDON:

On the third day, at dawn, you will make a sacrifice.

ABRAHAM:

No!

ABADDON:

Moriah. Three days.

(Abaddon turns and starts to walk away.)

ABRAHAM:

Sarah. Does she know?

ABADDON:

Her dreams will tell her.

ABRAHAM:

What will you say to her? That Isaac, her reward, is now her punishment? For what? What have we done? What have we done to deserve this, except love God?

(Abraham and Abaddon look at one another for a moment, then Abaddon turns and exits. Skyward:)

I have tried my whole life to raise myself far enough from the dust to be worthy of you. To show you that you were right to choose me, from among all humans. I have failed. I cannot do this. Turn me back to dust.

(Abraham raises his staff with both hands above his head, then lowers his head as if awaiting execution.)

Let me be dust again!

(Lights go down on Abraham. When they come up, it is early morning the same day. The landscape is not as harsh. The shadows of trees can be seen. Sarah stands center front, leaning on a staff.)

SARAH:

I am grateful to you. Again.

(Offstage.)

I didn't do it for you.

SARAH:

You saved my son.

(Entering, at the edge of the light.)

I saved a shepherd.

SARAH:

I knew you would. The next time...

ISHMAEL:

There will be no next time. I'm not listening anymore.

SARAH:

You saw him. You can't hate him. He's just a boy. A boy much like you were, once.

ISHMAEL:

How nice of you to remember.

SARAH:

It won't be jackals or cliffs or fear of the dark this time.

ISHMAEL:

What then?

SARAH:

God himself.

ISHMAEL:

God? He’s your friend, not mine. You deal with him.

SARAH:

Ishmael--I beg you--

ISHMAEL:

My sheep grow restless. They want me to tell them again why their lives are so short, and their deaths so merciless.

SARAH:

Ishmael. Please. I'm begging, Ishmael. Me, Sarah--I'm begging you--

(Ishmael ignores her. He exits as Abaddon enters. Sarah turns slowly to face him.)

My dreams. Tell me, Abaddon. Are my dreams true? Is it possible? Is such horror possible?

(Abaddon says nothing. Sarah stares at him for another moment, then lets out a wail--the wail of a mother for a dying child, then falls to her knees. When she addresses Abaddon, it is as a supplicant, pleading for mercy.)

Choose me! Take me! A thousand sheep. Everything we own. Everything we can steal. Every ram, every goat that wanders these hills. Not my son. Not Isaac.

(Still Abaddon says nothing.)

Why? Why Abaddon? What have I done?

ABADDON:

You have served God well.

SARAH:

Why, then? Why?

ABADDON:

The children of Abraham will light the way for nations.

(Sarah looks at Abaddon, stunned. Slowly she pulls herself back to her feet, using the staff as a crutch.)

Perhaps you haven't noticed, Abaddon. The burning bodies of the innocent already light up our nights. The earth is darker than ever.

ABADDON:

Sacrifices made by frightened people desperate for miracles, terrified of punishment. God does not ask for a sacrifice in exchange for rain, or protection from lions, or a promise the earthquakes won't come this year.

SARAH:

For what then?

ABADDON:

For faith.

SARAH:

What is faith worth when a child dies?

ABADDON:

It would be far worse if there were no God.

SARAH:

We're doomed, then. If God rid the world of misery, there'd be no need for him. He has chained us to our fate. And I have been his accomplice. God has used me.

ABADDON:

Yes. God has used you.

SARAH:

To what end? My dreams... Isaac is just the start. After him--so many--bodies stacked like wood. Outstretched hands still reaching toward God.

ABADDON:

Let them reach for something. Don't turn your back to God.

SARAH:

God has turned his back to me! You have turned your back to me.

ABADDON:

You know what I am and whom I serve.

SARAH:

A god to whom we can pray as our hearts break. As we rock our dead babies in our arms, begging them to come back to life. Begging God to give them back. Let God grow a child inside him. Let God give birth, screaming as if he were dying as he pushes a living piece of his own body out into the world. Let God worry about what will happen to his child in that world, where jackals lurk. And scorpions. And disease. And men. Cruel men. Let God give birth. Let God hold a baby, still bloody, to his breast and feel it suck, life to life. Leave me, messenger. Get out of my sight.

(Abaddon turns slowly and starts off. He stops, and turns back toward Sarah just as he is about to walk off stage.)

ABADDON:

Children die. Some die horribly. Only God is certain. Only God is forever. Only God can comfort mothers in their grief.

SARAH:

When God has known the death of a child, I'll talk to him about faith. I'll comfort him. And he'll see how little comfort there is to give. Leave me!

(Abaddon turns and exits. Sarah calls offstage:)

Eliezer! I need you. Quickly.

(Eliezer enters slowly from the same side of the stage where Abaddon exited.)

ELIEZER:

Why anyone would walk around in such a robe in this heat, and in a wilderness filled with thieves... well, that's as strange as anything I've seen in many years.

SARAH:

Thirteen.

ELIEZER:

Thirteen what?

SARAH:

Years.

(Sarah's meaning slowly dawns on Eliezer. )

Oh my. You'd think I wouldn't forget someone dressed like that. Oh my. Is another baby on the way?

SARAH:

Be quiet, old fool!

(Sarah glares angrily at Eliezer, then slowly softens, shaking her head sadly.)

Forgive me, old friend. I’m the fool. An old woman who has lived too long.

ELIEZER:

It's my mouth, mistress. Getting as loose as the rest of my aging body.

SARAH:

Not so aged that you've stopped your visits across the river.

ELIEZER:

I've decided just to die when I get too old for that.

SARAH:

It's no whore you visit.

ELIEZER:

Well of course it is.

SARAH:

I need you to go to him.

ELIEZER:

Who?

SARAH:

Don't lie to me. You're no good at it. You'll tell him you bring a message from Abraham.

ELIEZER:

But you just said...

SARAH:

It's a lie you want to tell. It's a lie he's been waiting to hear for thirteen years. The ram's horn. Do you still have it?

ELIEZER:

You knew--

SARAH:

Take it to him. For me. For Isaac.

(Eliezer starts to say something, then thinks better of it. After a moment's hesitation.)

Yes ma'am. I will.

(The lights go down on Sarah and Eliezer as they come up on Ishmael and Adisha. There are suggestions of nomadic domesticity: a fire pit, pots, blankets. The desert landscape is softened by shadows of palm trees suggesting an oasis. It is late afternoon. Adisha is peering offstage, into the distance. Ishmael is seated, working on a piece of hide with his knife.)

ADISHA:

Give me your ram's horn.

ISHMAEL:

My ram's horn?

ADISHA:

I'll blow a signal to that poor wanderer out there. It's too hot for anyone to be stumbling around in this desert.

ISHMAEL:

There's no need for that. If he doesn't see us, he's a bad shepherd. If he weren't a good shepherd, he wouldn't have made it this far. Have faith.

ADISHA:

In what?

ISHMAEL:

Shepherds. Omniscient beings, lords of their herds and the paths they walk.

ADISHA:

Is every shepherd a philosopher, or are philosophers drawn to sheep? I saw you talking to the herd again yesterday.

ISHMAEL:

They're good listeners.

ADISHA:

And you're good for talking and not much else, when you've got the wine in you.

ISHMAEL:

I swear--

ADISHA:

Don't bother. You drink too much then you talk too much then you bore the sheep nearly to death. It's no wonder we have so few lambs this year. You're talking to them about nature when they should be doing nature's work.

ISHMAEL:

Blasphemy. You know we're being punished for not making a sacrifice to Ishtar.

ADISHA:

I thought this was Marduke's year for mutton.

ISHMAEL:

You'd better hope neither develops a taste for Adishas.

ADISHA:

Or Ishmaels.

ISHMAEL:

I hadn't thought of that. Fetch me a lamb. Let's pay this ransom quick.

ADISHA:

What? Kill off one of your followers?

ISHMAEL:

You, then. We'll sacrifice you. You're not nearly as devoted to my philosophy.

ADISHA:

No god would want me for dinner. I'd be too tough a chew.

(As he puts down the leather and knife and stands to look off, shading his eyes:)

And arguing all the way down. I recognize this good shepherd.

(Waving as he shouts:)

Eliezer!

(Looking off in the same direction as Ishmael:)

Our spy. With a fresh report on Abraham's latest conversation with Yahweh.

ISHMAEL:

There's a god that would take you, gristle and all.

ADISHA:

Any god but that.

(Shouting, from offstage:)

Hello! Ishmael! Adisha!

(Eliezer enters as Ishmael runs to assist him. Eliezer and Ishmael embrace warmly. Adisha bows, slightly, as in a well-practiced ritual, with humor:)

ADISHA:

Welcome, old friend. May this humble servant find favor in your eyes.

ELIEZER:

As Adisha, there's favor to spare. As for you being my humble servant--you can't fool someone who has been both humble and a servant most of his life.

ADISHA:

Then I should be able to fool you easily.

ELIEZER:

You have only known me as a man freed by old age to say whatever he wishes. I could be humble with the best of them.

ADISHA:

Why be humble? Where would Abraham and Sarah be without you? Tending their herds instead of talking to God.

ELIEZER:

True.

ADISHA:

Someone with your talents shouldn't have wasted his life as a servant.

ELIEZER:

Wasted? I've spent my life with giants, who people will sing about for generations. I might even get mentioned in a poem or two. What? You think I should have stayed in the city and sold dates in the marketplace?

ISHMAEL:

The city you used to tell me about, with its music, its feasts? Its women?

ELIEZER:

Don't make fun of an old man. A thirsty old man.

ADISHA:

Forgive a truly humble servant. Sit down. Rest.

(Eliezer sits. Adisha takes a clay pitcher and cup and pours water for Eliezer, who drinks greedily.)

ISHMAEL:

What brings you across the desert on such a hot day?

(Wiping his mouth, looking around, evading the question:)

You seem even more prosperous than the last time. God looks kindly on you.

ADISHA:

God has nothing to do with it.

ELIEZER:

That you know of.

ISHMAEL:

He gets no praise from us. No sacrifices, no prayers.

ELIEZER:

He'll get your boys' foreskins when they turn thirteen. That's a generous gift.

                             (Angrily:)

Ishmael's gift. He'd have our boys marked for life by superstition's scar. For what? A god Ishmael claims to despise?

ISHMAEL:

Not for God's sake.

ADISHA:

For whose, then?

ELIEZER:

Ishmael wants to see his sons initiated into Abraham's tribe.

ADISHA:

The tribe that cut him off? There's circumcision with meaning to it. I demand a better reason than that.

ISHMAEL:

I want our boys circumcised so they'll think holy thoughts every time they piss.

ELIEZER:

Then they'll be holier then any priest I've ever met.

ADISHA:

Another reason I should give thanks each day for not being born a man. I'll have no god between my legs.

ISHMAEL:

See how she insults me!

ELIEZER:

Be happy it's only you she's insulting. Many men would like to pray at Adisha's altar.

ADISHA:

Ishmael, defend my honor!

ELIEZER:

That's what I'm doing. I'm coveting your honor and regretting my age. Forty years ago I would have been your most ardent worshiper.

ADISHA:

It must have been hard trading Ishtar's warm embrace for stern, dry Yahweh.

ELIEZER:

I confess, a transition made easier by advancing years. When I followed Ishtar, you never saw a man who prayed as much as I.

ADISHA:

Prayer?

ELIEZER:

Why not? Most priests you take on faith, just like their gods. There's no question about the service a man gets from Ishtar's holy women. They take you straight to heaven. You'll find few nonbelievers in her temples.

ADISHA:

Men believers.

ELIEZER:

I helped many women approach god's throne.

ADISHA:

Then it's I who should regret your old age.

ISHMAEL:

See? See how she insults me?

ELIEZER:

What about me? Didn't Abraham father a child in his old age?

ADISHA:

There's a tale. I suspect the messenger. The one who told Sarah she'd have a child. Every man who fathers a child thinks he's come straight from god.

(With obvious unease:)

He's back.

ISHMAEL:

Who?

ELIEZER:

The messenger.

ADISHA:

What? Another child?

ELIEZER:

I suggested that, and nearly lost my head for it.

ADISHA:

See? Abraham's jealous.

(Eliezer looks nervously from Adisha to Ishmael.)

ISHMAEL:

What troubles you, old friend?

(Hesitant. Finally:)

He's asked--he's told--he's told Abraham to go back to Moriah.

ISHMAEL:

Who has?

ELIEZER:

The messenger.

ISHMAEL:

Moriah?

ELIEZER:

And you're--you're to go with him.

ISHMAEL:

What?

ELIEZER:

That's why--that's why I'm here.

ISHMAEL:

Rest, Eliezer. You're talking nonsense.

ELIEZER:

Isaac, too. The both of you. Moriah.

(Eliezer pulls the ram's horn from his belt and hands it to Ishmael. Ishmael hesitates, then takes it as Adisha stares, stunned. Ishmael runs his hands along the ram’s horn then looks off in the direction from which Eliezer had come, as if toward Abraham's camp.)

ADISHA:

Eliezer: Where did you--?

(Dazed.)

He wants to see me? He wants me to go to Moriah?

ADISHA:

Ishmael! You're not--

(Ignoring Adisha.)

Can it really be? After all these years?

ADISHA:

Ishmael--

ISHMAEL:

I knew it. I knew he'd call me back some day.

(Adisha takes Ishmael by the shoulders and forces him to look at her.)

ADISHA:

What if he has? What difference does it make? He threw you out. Like you were a diseased lamb he didn't want polluting his flock.

ISHMAEL:

No. He loved me. It nearly killed him to do it. The look on his face--

ADISHA:

I can't believe I'm hearing this. Leave us, Eliezer.

(Eliezer looks from Adisha to Ishmael, who is still staring off. Eliezer starts off.)

Eliezer!

(Eliezer stops.)

Where did you get the ram's horn?

ELIEZER:

I--in the desert.

ADISHA:

It’s a big desert.

ELIEZER:

I, uh, I found it up in the cliffs, above where we were camped.

ADISHA:

Go on.

ELIEZER:

I'm sorry, Ishmael. You know what a terrible liar I am. It was on a rock, near where someone had just saved Isaac from charging over a cliff in the dark, where he'd been running too scared to think.

ADISHA:

Isaac--

(To Ishmael:)

That's where you ran off to that night.

ISHMAEL:

Yes.

ADISHA:

Did you know who he was?

(Ishmael nods.)

ELIEZER:

Uh--I'll be by the well.

(Adisha and Ishmael ignore him.)

We must leave right away--if you decide to come.

(Eliezer exits.)

ADISHA:

You left it on purpose.

ISHMAEL:

No.

ADISHA:

You thought if you saved Isaac, they'd forgive you. For what? For having been born?

ISHMAEL:

He was a shepherd in trouble.

ADISHA:

How is it that you heard him call for help and I didn't?

ISHMAEL:

I don't know.

ADISHA:

What powers does she have over you? What magic does she work this time?

ISHMAEL:

Sarah--

(A moment of doubt, then he shakes his head.)

No. No. Eliezer would have told me. Abraham wants to see me. I need to go, Adisha.

ADISHA:

You’re a grown man, Ishmael. Your obligations are to us now.

ISHMAEL:

He's still my father.

ADISHA:

He forfeited that right. It’s you who can't stop being his son.

(Ishmael stares off for a moment, then shakes his head.)

ISHMAEL:

I--No. I can't.

ADISHA:

You must.

ISHMAEL:

Not until I've made sense of it.

ADISHA:

I'll tell you the sense of it: Who gets the land. Who gets the sheep and goats and asses and tents. Who will be leader after Abraham, and who gets sent into the desert. With nothing. To die. And Hagar, your poor mother, with you.

ISHMAEL:

I don't want the burden Isaac's doomed to carry.

ADISHA:

What burden?

ISHMAEL:

God. That's the real legacy. Not some rocky bit of land. Not some underfed animals. Not a handful of poor shepherds. God.

ISHMAEL:

I want nothing of Abraham's.

ADISHA:

Except his love. This man who tried to sacrifice you on Sarah's altar.

ISHMAEL:

Abraham does what God commands.

ADISHA:

Tell me, Ishmael.

ISHMAEL:

What?

ADISHA:

Did you pray to this god. As you and your mother wandered, lost and starving, in the desert?

ISHMAEL:

I--Yes.

ADISHA:

Did you beg for your lives? Your old tent back?

ISHMAEL:

What are you--

ADISHA:

Answer me!

ISHMAEL:

I--yes.

ADISHA:

Abraham's love. How about that? Did you pray you'd get that back, too?

ISHMAEL:

Yes.

ADISHA:

Who answered your prayers, Ishmael? Who brought you food and water, and staffs to scare away the jackals?

ISHMAEL:

It doesn't matter.

ADISHA:

Answer me!

ISHMAEL:

You know.

ADISHA:

Who showed you the way out of the wilderness?

ISHMAEL:

You know.

ADISHA:

And who commanded Abraham to send you away?

ISHMAEL:

You know.

ADISHA:

So do you, Ishmael. You know who the real gods are, for good, and for evil.

ISHMAEL:

What would you have me do?

ADISHA:

Don't go. Don't go. Untangle yourself from their lives.

ISHMAEL:

I've tried. I have. Maybe--if I talk to him--he's called me back, Adisha. I have to go.

ADISHA:

He's not worth it, Ishmael. None of them are worth it. Forget them. Stay here with us.

ISHMAEL:

I have to see him. I want to see him.

ADISHA:

You're a fool.

ISHMAEL:

I--I have to go.

(Ishmael attempts to embrace Adisha, but she turns away. He hesitates a moment, then turns and exits. Adisha turns to stare off after him, trying to control her anger. Abaddon enters behind her, unnoticed. Adisha turns to leave. She sees Abaddon. Her hand goes to the knife left by Ishmael resting on the hide.)

ADISHA:

Who are you?

ABADDON:

A humble messenger.

ADISHA:

Another? Who sent you?

ABADDON:

It doesn't matter. You are Adisha.

ADISHA:

Yes.

ABADDON:

Moriah. It's a place of sacrifice.

ADISHA:

So?

ABADDON:

It's Isaac Abraham will offer up to God.

ADISHA:

Isaac? Am I the last sane person living in this desert?

ABADDON:

Do with the news what you wish. Ignore it. Rejoice in it.

ADISHA:

Laugh at it. Even if I believed you, why would you bring such news to me?

ABADDON:

I go where I am sent.

(She eyes Abaddon for a moment.)

Tell your master I can't be played with like the others. I never grew soft in the city. I learned long ago how to survive in this wilderness. On my own. No gods needed.

ABADDON:

My master takes no messages from me.

(Abaddon starts to exit, then turns back to Adisha, as if with an afterthought.)

You were right.

ADISHA:

About what?

ABADDON:

Sarah. She still has powers. She can make men, men like Ishmael, dream. Ishmael is her last hope to save Isaac. It isn't Abraham who's sent for him.

ADISHA:

No?

ABADDON:

No.

ADISHA:

Poor Ishmael.

ABADDON:

You can stop her.

ADISHA:

Why should I?

ABADDON:

What is it you want?

ADISHA:

I want Ishmael to be free. I want my children to be safe. If Isaac dies--

ABADDON:

Whatever happens, nothing will ever be the same.

ADISHA:

No?

ABADDON:

Abraham and Sarah are old. They, and the world, will be much older before these events are done.

ADISHA:

And Ishmael?

ABADDON:

And Ishmael.

ADISHA:

Where will I find her?

ABADDON:

She works her magic in a grove of terebinth trees. Near Hebron.

ADISHA:

Yes. The trees. I know the place.

(Adisha looks at the knife in her hand.)

And you would have me be your assassin.

ABADDON:

I?

(beat)

I am just a messenger.

ADISHA:

I've never killed anyone. I don't know that I can do it.

ABADDON:

No one makes you do anything, Adisha.

(Abaddon turns and exits. Adisha stares off after him as the lights go down on her and come up on Sarah and Isaac. Sarah is seated, wrapped in a blanket, guarding the sleeping Isaac. It is just before dawn, the next morning. Suddenly, Sarah hears a sound. She stands up, alert.)

SARAH:

Abraham? Is that you?

(Abraham enters.)

ABRAHAM:

Yes.

SARAH:

You've come for the boy.

ABRAHAM:

Yes.

SARAH:

Don't do it. I'll stand by you.

ABRAHAM:

Against God?

SARAH:

Yes! Even against God.

(Abraham shakes his head.)

I can't stop now, Sarah. I can't stop trusting God.

SARAH:

Without Isaac, what are we? Two old, lonely people.

ABRAHAM:

Without God what are we? Two fools lost in the desert. Everything we've done up to now--a handful of sand blown by the wind.

SARAH:

Your son. Look at him. Look at him!

ABRAHAM:

God picked us, from among all people.

SARAH:

The worse for us.

ABRAHAM:

Don't say that.

SARAH:

My dreams, Abraham. The bodies. Someone has set fire to them. They burn and they burn, but they aren't consumed. I smell the stench. I see reeking pillars of fire reaching to heaven. The smoke gets into God's eyes. There are no tears. He doesn't even blink. He just watches for a moment, then turns away.

ABRAHAM:

It's just a dream Sarah. Only God knows how things will turn out.

(Through the next several lines, Isaac wakes up. Unnoted, he moves center back, midway between Abraham and Sarah.)

SARAH:

Talk to him, then. Beg him.

ABRAHAM:

I’ve tried. Don't you think I’ve tried? God talks to me no more.

SARAH:

My child.

ABRAHAM:

It's for him. For the love of God. For God's love.

SARAH:

You once loved Isaac. And me.

ABRAHAM:

Sarah...

SARAH:

Do you still?

ABRAHAM:

Sarah...

SARAH:

Answer me.

ABRAHAM:

Don't do this.

SARAH:

God or us. Choose.

ABRAHAM:

No!

SARAH:

Isaac. That's my choice. Stand with us, Abraham. Don't betray us. Love us.

ABRAHAM:

I do. So much.

SARAH:

More than God. Love us more than God.

ISAAC:

You ask too much, mamma.

(Abraham and Sarah turn to Isaac, stunned. Sarah reaches toward him.)

SARAH:

Isaac...

ISAAC:

God is my father's life, mamma. Our life, too. We are here, we are who we are, all because of God.

(Gently:)

Get ready. We go to Moriah.

SARAH:

No. Leave him behind. He's still so young. The sheep--he's needed here.

ISAAC:

I must go, mamma. If that's what God asks. I can't expect only to take from him, and never give anything back.

SARAH:

Has he given you so much?

ISAAC:

When I let him. It's like what that shepherd told me, about tying myself to God.

SARAH:

Isaac--

ABRAHAM:

Wise words for a shepherd. Who was he?

ISAAC:

He wouldn't tell me his name. I got scared, poppa. I thought I was disappearing into the dark. I ran away. He saved me, just as I was about to go over a cliff. What he told me to do--last night, clouds covered the stars, it was so dark I couldn't even see my hands in front of my face. God held me. He did. Just like that shepherd said he would. I tied myself to God and God tied himself to me, and there was nothing to be scared of.

SARAH:

Isaac, please...

ISAAC:

I think about all the other shepherds, alone like me. All the ones who don't have God to hold them to the earth. Do you know what I did last night? I cried for them.

ABRAHAM:

Come.

(Isaac goes to Abraham. Together they leave the stage. Sarah stares after them. Finally:)

SARAH:

I'll hold you, Isaac. I'll cry for you. Who will I hold now? Who will I cry for now? Who will keep me from the darkness? Ishmael! See what a sweet boy he is. Don't let him die. You must not let him die.

(Slow fade to black. When lights come back up, it's late afternoon, the next day. A small oasis. Eliezer and Ishmael are waiting for Abraham and Isaac. Eliezer is resting in the shade of a palm tree. Ishmael paces. There are bundles on the ground.)

ISHMAEL:

I'm a fool.

ELIEZER:

Better fool than prophet.

ISHMAEL:

Couldn't I be both prophet and fool?

ELIEZER:

You'd think your prophecies were the rantings of a fool.

ISHMAEL:

I'm a prophet to my sheep. I say, "Follow me, or face the wrath of the god of roast lamb!"

(Looking out:)

Where are they?

ELIEZER:

Be patient. Abraham's too old to fly.

ISHMAEL:

And Isaac?

ELIEZER:

Thanks to you, he's adopted God as his tent peg.

ISHMAEL:

Ah, the God of roast sons. But if Isaac's fool enough to pay attention to me--

(Ishmael looks off.)

Someone's coming.

(Eliezer gets to his feet, looking off in the same direction.)

ELIEZER:

Ishmael: I swore I wouldn't say anything--