I think the word “desensitized” would sum up my life in those days. It was like I had anesthetized my soul. I knew that life among the Canaanites would be hazy, and after “The Joseph Transaction” I was desperate for a foggy environment where hiding happens naturally. I didn’t want to face the truth, I wanted to forget; and my insurance policy was Hirah. From the moment I met Hirah I knew I could rely on him to find fog and steer me into it. And like a good neighbor, Hirah was always there. When my wife died, it was a confounding moment, because I had never really taken stock of what I might miss about Shua’s daughter if she weren’t around; and I was now in danger of arriving at a clearing of sorts – where I might be confronted with clarity regarding my real vulnerabilities and desires. But then Hirah came to my rescue just in the nick of time, suggesting that we take a trip to Timnah for the sheep shearing. Honestly, if “The Day of Exposure” hadn’t happened I doubt I would’ve even remembered my night in Enaim. I did momentarily puzzle over the mysterious disappearance of the cult prostitute, and I had a fleeting sense of regret over losing the signet, cord, and staff; but Enaim is one of those places where you budget for such enigmas and deficits. On some level I was even a little relieved when Hirah returned without my pledge, believing I could leverage such an experience to advance my empire of amnesia …mysteries can be very useful for a man trying to keep things as muddled as possible; and of course a paradigm of chronic confusion is one of the pillars upon which a town like Enaim stands; it is an abyss of amnesia, for what happens in Enaim remains forever shrouded in mystery behind the prurient veil of Enaim.

When I heard the news of “Tamar’s immorality,” all my faculties for efficiency surged and swelled and took aim at resolving this long-standing, and rather pesky, problem. Similar to “The Joseph Predicament,” it seemed as if this obscene report about Tamar was serving me an answer to my dilemma on a silver platter! I had, for purely practical reasons, lied to Tamar about Shelah, but I hadn’t yet come up with a plan for how to be rid of this widow-maker. Now, in an instant, it all came into focus. Like everything else in my life, it never registered as “being anything personal,” it was simply a matter of pragmatic problem solving. This was my life’s work, my wheelhouse …I was the guy you’d call in to address problems, and point out solutions – no matter how harsh they seemed. I was the consummate “Candid, Cunning, Consultant,” and compassion was simply never compatible with such a “no-nonsense calling.” I decided that she was to be burned alive, and I threw myself into making the necessary arrangements…