by Sylvie Weil
“Yes!”
The twins were overjoyed. “Can we begin today?” they urged.
“Yes, we’ll begin today,” replied Elvina.
The three girls jumped down from their bench and began to dance with joy. They were dancing wildly and in full view of everyone.
The twins’ mother dropped her spinning in surprise and scolded, “What’s gotten into you girls?”
But just then, Toby’s sisters shouted, “Here they come!”
All the women rushed to meet Judah ben Nathan, who still carried Toby in his arms, hidden in the folds of his coat. At the sound of his mother’s and sisters’ voices, the boy peeked out, his face still smeared with honey.
Now little Toby, thrilled that he is the center of attention, smiles down at the women. They all dance around him, but none of them dance as joyfully as Naomi, Rachel, and Elvina. They jump higher and shout louder than any of the others, “Armimas, rmimas, mimas . . .” to upset the wicked Armimas, demon of stupidity and forgetfulness, and shrink him out of existence, so that he will never ever dare to harm Toby . . . or Naomi or Rachel!
Second Letter to the Mazal
My dear Mazal, what shall I do? Once again I have acted without thinking. I hate this secret that keeps me awake at night. I am not Esther, acting under the guidance of Mordecai. I am only a girl who has done something terribly stupid. . . . Perhaps I have even sinned! It’s been a week now, and soon the Sabbath will return.
This morning, with all the singing and dancing, I forgot. For a whole morning I forgot about Gauthier, while he, poor thing, was alone in his hole, crying and scratching his earth-covered skin.
Later on, I remembered him and my promise. I ran to take him some bread and cheese, but I threw them in at him without stopping, just as if I had been throwing food at a dog. I’m ashamed that I did that, but I’m also ashamed of my terrible secret.
This morning, my father, Judah ben Nathan, was laughing while he lifted Toby into the air. If he only knew! If he only knew that his daughter was hiding a Crusader!
When I got home, Solomon ben Isaac was pleased. A messenger had come from Ramerupt to say that my Aunt Yochebed had a baby girl, whom she has called Hannah. My Uncle Meir will bring back my grandmother tomorrow, before the Sabbath, and my mother will return next week.
But as for me, Mazal, instead of being glad, I thought, How on earth can I keep all this from my grandmother’s sharp eyes? How will I manage to prevent her from noticing anything?
And then there’s my grandfather. My whole life I have confided in him, but now I hardly dare look him in the face.
I made a promise, and that surely must mean something. If I break it, Gauthier will be right to despise me. He will say that girls are not to be counted on after all. On the other hand, he hasn’t told me a thing about the Crusaders’ plans. Do you think, by any chance, he is deceiving me?
Mazal, Mazal, what shall I do?
XVIII
Don’t run away; keep me company, not like last time. My tongue is numb and hardly remem- bers how to speak. Soon I won’t be able to utter a single word. I can’t keep on talking to myself like a babbling old woman!”
Huddled down in the burrow, Gauthier tries to laugh, but his eyes give him away. They are red, and his eyelids are irritated and swollen. He grabs Elvina’s sleeve as she is about to offer him a piece of bread, and he doesn’t let go.
“Don’t be afraid!” he says as he draws her toward him. “Last night I cleaned out my little home as well as the best housewife could. And I am clean, too. I’ve washed myself.” Gauthier smiles; then he continues, “The moon will soon be full, and the nights are not so dark. While the town was asleep, I walked to the river. I saw that spring had arrived; the apple trees were in bloom, and the moonlight shone through the flowers, making the blossoms look even whiter. The night air was warm, and the water was cold but not icy.”
As he speaks, a dreamy look comes into his eyes. “You can’t imagine how good it felt to duck my head under the water. I drowned all the fleas that were tormenting me! I lay down on the riverbank where it is on the same level as the water. You must know the place, because I’m sure the women go there to do their washing. I did my washing, too. Then I lay there on my back looking up at the clouds, racing across the sky, playing with the moon. Let me tell you, those apple trees smelled wonderful.” He sniffs the air as if to bring back their scent. “Imagine that, after so many days and nights in this hole!”
Gauthier talks as a thirsty man drinks, without stopping to draw breath. Elvina listens to him gladly, thinking of the ballads her Aunt Rachel used to read to her in secret by candlelight. It is true, Gauthier speaks like a poet. . . .
“But I was hungry,” he begins again. “Why didn’t you come last night? Did you forget me?”
“Last night was the Sabbath. Just before Havdalah I went to see my friend Tova and her baby. After Havdalah, I couldn’t go out again, and night had fallen. Then my grandmother came home, and she constantly watches me.”
“What is Havdalah?” asks Gauthier.
“It’s the prayer we say when the Sabbath ends and everyday life returns. We watch for three stars to come out in the sky, then we light the fire and the lamps again, and we bless the light. We burn spices so that their perfume spreads through the whole house and gets rid of the bad smells that Satan sends us.”
“Satan sends you bad smells?” he asks.
“Yes, because he wants to take his revenge for all the evil he has not been able to do during the Sabbath! But look here, I’ve brought you a real feast; a big piece of meat that I managed to hide while no one was looking, two honey cakes, and some nuts. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t bring you any gravy for the meat!”
Elvina is squatting down in the hole. She watches Gauthier as he wolfs down the bread and meat, then the cakes, and finally the nuts, which he cracks open with his teeth. She thinks about how brave he is and how her brother and cousin, with their easy and sheltered existence, would never be able to bear what this boy with the light blue eyes is enduring.
Gauthier wipes his mouth and starts talking again. “Last night I saw my mother in a dream. She gave me fruit, not just ordinary apples but juicy golden pears. I think that means she’s in heaven and that she’s watching over me.”
Elvina agrees wholeheartedly, “Yes, I’m sure that is what it means.”
But Gauthier is not listening to her. He is already talking about something else. “I know everyone who passes by my hole, at least by sight. There are schoolboys for example. I can guess which one is your brother; he looks like you. He’s thin and dark, and he always walks with a red-haired boy who also looks like you.”
“That’s my cousin Samuel.”
“They don’t know how lucky they are, all those Jewish boys who spend their days studying as if it were the most natural thing in the world. What wouldn’t I give to be in their place! But I can’t turn myself into a Jew!”
“Don’t Christian boys study?”
“Only if their parents want them to become priests. In my family they expect a boy to become a warrior, not a cleric. When my mother was alive, I was able to study with the monks, but the very day after she died my uncles said that I was quite educated enough and that it was time I learned to handle a sword. They wouldn’t let me return to the monks.”
Gauthier pushes his hair back with an impatient gesture. “But I want to study. You see why you absolutely must continue to help me. It’s my only chance. Now tell me what goes on in this town, Troyes, that you know so well and I not at all.”
Elvina shakes her head. “I don’t know what goes on in Troyes, but I can tell you about the Sabbath.”
“Go on then; tell me.”
Elvina takes her mind back to the contented hours she has just spent with her family. “We had the Sabbath meal at my grandfather’s, Solomon ben Isaac’s. My grandmother had prepared everything. It was almost like before.”
“Before what?”
/> “Before you . . . well, you know . . . I mean before Peter the Hermit arrived.”
“I understand.” He nods. “Go on.”
“Around the table, only my mother, Miriam, was missing. There were several of my grandfather’s students and two travelers whom my grandfather invited because they were passing through Troyes. One of them has been as far as the land of Israel and even farther — all the way to Baghdad. He has seen flying camels, which are also called dromedaries. He has seen elephants and he told us how they eat.”
Gauthier looks puzzled; then Elvina explains, “An elephant is a huge gray animal with a long nose that it uses to reach out for its food and put it into its mouth. Everything we do with our hands, the elephant does with its long nose. An elephant is so strong, it can carry twelve armed warriors! The other merchant had nothing exciting to tell us, but he has his own personal clock that he wears attached to his belt.”
“He has a clock of his own?” Gauthier’s blue eyes are wide with surprise.
“Yes. It’s a long silver tablet with gold edges, and it has holes in it. The names of the months are carved in pairs in a certain order. You hold the silver tablet by a chain and put a little silver peg into one of the holes, depending on the month it is, and then the peg’s shadow falls on signs, which mark the hours. So the traveler can know what time it is whenever he likes, in the forest or at sea. All he needs is a ray of sunlight, as the merchant said. It really is magnificent!”
Elvina remembers the astonishment in Solomon ben Isaac’s eyes. He looked even more amazed than the boys! First he weighed the clock in his hands and admired its lightness, and then he went over to the window so that the light shone on the dial. He called everyone over to come and read the time, not only the family but also his pupils and even the servants.
“And what did you talk about during the meal?” Gauthier asks.
“My grandfather explained some points in the week’s readings and told us how the Lord loved Moses, who is our teacher. I was helping my grandmother to serve, but not a word of what was being said escaped me. Sabbath conversations are always so interesting.”
She thinks of Obadiah and his deep gentle voice. She can hear his words from the end of the table where she sits when she isn’t serving. He always asks Solomon such intelligent questions and listens to the answers with such respectful attention.
She thinks again of the way Obadiah raised his eyes to her and how he nodded his head in thanks when she refilled his glass and later when she handed him a honey cake.
Obadiah’s beard is thick and black like a grown man’s, but even when he makes fun of someone, as he does occasionally, he never looks arrogant.
Elvina doesn’t mention any of this to Gauthier, but the memory of Obadiah’s smile must have lit up her face fleetingly, for Gauthier immediately says, “There was someone there whom you have not told me about.”
Elvina shakes her head. She feels herself blushing and hates herself for it. She blushes even more, shakes her head again, and finally gives a little laugh. “No, there was no one else.”
Elvina tells herself that she is being just as ridiculous as Bella, but Gauthier doesn’t make fun of her. “It’s only natural. You’re a pretty girl, and I’m sure your parents will have no trouble finding you a husband.”
“Maybe,” says Elvina; then she changes the subject. “Has your brother come to you? Did he say anything?”
“Yes, but he only stayed a couple of minutes,” replies Gauthier. “He was worried they might notice his absence. He told me that Peter the Hermit will soon give the order for us to leave. He wants to head for Germany.”
At this, Elvina remembers what her grandfather has told her. “Several men,” she says, “including my father, are supposed to be taking letters to this famous Peter the Hermit one day soon. The letters are for our brothers in Germany, asking them to give Peter and his men the provisions they need in return for the safety of our people and their property.”
“You’ll see, it’ll turn out all right in the end.” Gauthier smiles.
Elvina, feeling reassured, continues. “If only your troops could leave on the day of Purim, without harming us or burning our houses! That would be a really special Purim for the Jews of Troyes. Tomorrow is the fast of Esther. I am going to fast for the first time in my life, just like Esther fasted before going to find her husband, King Ahasuerus.”
“If you were Esther, I would be Ahasuerus and you would have to marry me. All I’m asking for is a bit of bread and water, so you get off lightly! Don’t look so horrified! My eyes are itching; do you know what that means?”
Elvina takes a closer look at Gauthier and answers him earnestly. “It means that they have got more dust and earth in them than they can bear, poor things. Tomorrow even my fast won’t stop me from bringing you a very good ointment. It’s made from pigeon droppings. In two days, your eyes will be better.”
Gauthier laughs. “Thank you,” he says. “Bring me your ointment, but you should know what it means to have itching eyes. It’s the sign that soon these very eyes will be reading again, reading all the books they haven’t yet read! It means I’ll soon be studying again! That’s what it means!”
XIX
The market is in full swing this eve of Purim. People are fasting, but this doesn’t stop them from preparing the festivities for the evening and the following day. Then there are the presents: presents for friends and neighbors and also for the poor, for they, too, are supposed to receive gifts. The cake seller has really outdone herself, with mountains of honey cakes and cakes made with figs and nuts piled up on her trestle for clients who have no oven or do not want to make their own sweets. The spice merchant is also as busy as can be. Cinnamon, ginger, and saffron are in great demand.
Elvina and the twins have just run into the old beggar, who drags himself toward Elvina. His tongue lolls out and he dribbles onto his beard.
“My little lady, will you have anything to give me tomorrow? You see, today I am fasting like all the other children of Israel.”
“Try to come to our house tomorrow,” replies Elvina. “You will eat and drink like a king, and my father will give you some money.”
The old man laughs. “But if I stay in your courtyard no one will see me, so I’ll get fewer presents and less money!”
“Do as you like. I’ll find you.”
Naomi and Rachel impatiently fidget and tug at Elvina’s coat. “This old man is not as stupid as he pretends to be, and anyway, we want to read. Come on!”
“But where shall we hide? Elvina, do you have any ideas?” asks Naomi.
“We can go down the street, behind Dieulesault the blacksmith’s cart,” Elvina suggests. “Nobody will think of looking for us behind scythes and spare parts for plows! And the blacksmith’s clients are all men. They won’t be interested in what three little girls are doing bent over a tablet. And we’ll be far from the tempting smell of those cakes! Don’t forget that today I’m fasting!”
“So are Muriel and Bella,” says Naomi.
“Our turn will come in two years,” adds her sister. “But we’ve hardly eaten anything today, have we, Naomi?”
“No, we just wanted to get away from the house! Muriel gave us hundreds of dried beans and lentils to sort for tomorrow’s meal. We hid them in a jug and ran off. We can sort them very quickly later.”
Dieulesault stares at the three girls. His eyes are as red as the smoldering coals he bends over all day long. He gestures the girls toward a clean, flat stone where they can sit down.
“The granddaughter of our master Solomon ben Isaac is welcome behind my stall. Whatever you are up to, it can’t be anything bad, and anyway, it’s none of my business.”
Dieulesault has powerful shoulders, huge arms, and a voice that booms louder than the bellows of his forge.
This morning he has left his cave filled with dancing red shadows reflecting the forge fire. He has taken off his thick leather apron, and he has come to the mark
et to display the tools he has for sale. It will soon be time for the men to start working the land, turning the earth, plowing the furrows. Axes, scythes, spades, and hoes are piled up on his cart, as well as two plowshares and a rake for breaking up clods of earth and leveling out the ground for the seed.
If Dieulesault were listening, he might hear the words drifting over from where the girls are sitting.
“Bereshit bara Elohim . . .”
Hunched over the wax tablet, where Elvina has copied out the first few verses of the Bible, their heads stuck one against the other, Naomi and Rachel painstakingly make out each syllable. Their eyebrows furrow with effort, their mouths pronounce every word of the Hebrew text with care and reverence. They read together as if they had but one voice between them. At the end of the verse, both heads look up together. They are breathless, as if they’d been running, but proud, as if they had just won a battle.
Elvina claps her hands, exclaiming, “What good students you are! I’m proud of you both!”
“We are studying as hard as we can,” say the twins. “Whenever we have a minute to ourselves, we take out the tablet where you have written the letters for us, and we review them.”
Elvina smiles. “And today you are reading the sacred text. It’s a big day for you both, and for me, too!”
Naomi looks up anxiously at the overcast sky. “I hope it’s not going to rain, at least not yet.”
“Let’s not waste time,” says Elvina. “Follow my finger; we’re going to translate, word by word. ‘In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was ‘tohu and bohu’ —”
“What’s ‘tohu’?” asks Naomi.
“And what’s ‘bohu’?” echoes her sister.
Elvina puts on the same tone of voice she has often heard Obadiah use. “‘Tohu’ means unformed. But Solomon ben Isaac interprets it with the words astonishment and amazement. As for ‘bohu,’ which means void, he says emptiness and solitude. Now, read it again, again, and again until you can do it perfectly. A sacred text must be read without stumbling or hesitation.”