Tamar's Name
My aunt’s name was rarely mentioned. All I knew of the reclusive woman I was named for was that she used to wear colorful robes. Anytime I asked about her, my father’s face clouded over and he told me to forget it. I. She was beautiful. Young, and impossibly beautiful. It should have been impossible to touch her. II. Amnon her brother – her half- brother – was consumed by a sick, twisted love for her. III. He knew he couldn’t have her. But nobody told him he shouldn’t. IV. When he called her over to bake for him, she was wary – but every woman bakes. V. So, she made the cake, and he closed the door. She knew it was too late to reverse the clock. VI. She begged him to think of King David as a bid for time, for a pause of conscience in this violent passion play. VII. She was desperate. Young, and impossibly desperate. But it was impossible to stop him. VIII. Her brother – her half -b...