My Guardian Angel

by Sylvie Weil

  Where is my Mazal, who is supposed to guide and protect me? Is he speaking up for me in heaven now?

  Around me there are only sleeping girls, a hooting owl, and the night with its silence. The night has cleared, thank God, and the moon has recovered her beautiful silvery face. I can hardly wait for the day to come, for this day should bring back my mother. But will she be able to return at a time like this? Who would venture out onto the roads?

  XXI

  Run, girl, run; live up to your nickname, Gazelle. Run to the synagogue to warn your father. Run; don’t stop! You can catch your breath later, thinks Elvina, as she runs toward the synagogue.

  As soon as the day broke, Elvina had left Muriel’s house and rushed to the school. She told herself that Obadiah’s calm, deep voice explaining the lesson to thelittle ones would help clarify her troubled thoughts. Studying the sacred texts brings one closer to the Almighty. Surely He would inspire her with the right decision.

  In the little hallway, not the slightest wisp of straw was to be seen. Elvina was about to sit down on the bare ground when Obadiah abruptly turned toward her and showed her the door with a single gesture of his hand. His lips were stern and his eyes cold. Elvina withdrew. Obadiah joined her in the courtyard. He was livid with anger.

  “I am ashamed of you,” he said. “You are hiding a Crusader. Someone saw you and told me about it last night. How could you do such a thing? You, the daughter and granddaughter of my esteemed masters? If you don’t tell them immediately, I will. Don’t you ever set foot in this school again!”

  He didn’t leave Elvina time to realize what was happening, let alone answer him. He turned on his heels and went back to his students. She thought she even heard him bolt the door behind him.

  In the folds of her sleeve Elvina was, in fact, hiding a piece of bread for Gauthier! She ran toward the narrow street, ran to his hiding place to tell him something, to tell him what? She did not know. In the end she said nothing, because he was not alone. His brother, Robert, was with him. Robert looked a lot like Gauthier but taller and stronger. He was dressed like a knight, with a sword at his side, and he thanked Elvina for having looked after Gauthier so well.

  “His eyes are less swollen, thanks to your ointment. But listen: the eclipse has terrified the Crusaders. This morning they are rushing about in all directions. They seem to have gone mad. Some are accusing the Jews of having caused the moon to disappear, and they are talking about stopping the Jews from ever doing it again. You can imagine what that means. I ran here to tell Gauthier, so now you must go quickly and warn your people.”

  While Robert was speaking, Gauthier bit into the bread and chewed it hungrily. His eyes were shining. You see, we too have kept our word! proclaimed the expression on his face.

  “But they’ve seen you, and they’ve seen me, too. They know you’re hiding here.” Elvina stayed just long enough to whisper this warning.

  Now she is running once again, this time toward the synagogue, where the men are finishing morning prayers.

  Third Letter to the Mazal

  Mazal, Mazal, don’t bother with me anymore. I don’t deserve it! I have been useless! Go help my father’s Mazal instead. My father will need both of you to protect him. He has gone to Peter the Hermit to give him the money the Jews have collected. Dieulesault and Simonet are with him; they are both strong, but what can three men do against thousands?

  When I arrived in front of the synagogue the men had finished saying morning prayers. My father had already left. My grandfather saw me crying. He stroked my hair and said soothingly, “The moment we were talking about has come. The eclipse can only turn the Crusaders against us. We have two solutions left: money and prayer.”

  Then someone told my grandfather that he was needed in the synagogue, and he ordered me to go home quickly — and to stay there.

  Mazal, can all these events have been my fault? Could I be responsible for the eclipse that has upset the Crusaders so and made them hate us Jews even more? My father is at their mercy! Mazal, Mazal, I beg you, rush to the aid of Judah ben Nathan!

  XXII

  Mazal, if I’m talking to you, it is only out of habit, and also to remind you that to- day you should forget about me. Instead, please help my father’s Mazal. Both of you, be guides to Judah ben Nathan. Make sure he takes the right paths, that is, not the same ones as the Crusaders. They are strangers to our region, so they prefer to keep to the main roads.

  For my part, I’ve vowed not to eat anything until my father returns. How could I possibly eat? The idea that I may somehow be responsible for the dangers facing my father and his companions chokes me like a necklace that is too tight.

  Mazal, surely you know that my father sometimes has his head in the clouds. In case you don’t already know it, I’m telling you. He can’t tell one field from another or the difference between two roads. Mazal, make him follow Simonet’s advice, because Simonet knows the countryside much better than he does.

  “Elvina, who are you talking to?” asks Precious.

  “Nobody. I’m talking to myself.”

  “Instead of daydreaming, help me wring out the tablecloth!” Precious replies impatiently.

  Elvina whispers, “Good-bye for now, Mazal. I will say no more. I don’t want to distract you from your mission.”

  Since morning, the servants have been sweeping the floor thoroughly under Precious’s supervision. They have made sure that not the slightest crumb, wisp of straw, or cobweb remains. They have shaken out the blankets, beaten the pillows, and polished the wooden chests and wardrobes until the wood shone. They have cleaned the kitchen utensils, scrubbing saucepans and rubbing away at the metal latches on the chests.

  Precious and Elvina have washed the white cloth that will be spread on the table the following evening for the Sabbath. May it please the Almighty to bring back Judah and Miriam, so that the Sabbath may see the whole of Solomon’s family reunited!

  The usual daytime noises come in through the open door and windows: the bleating of ewes about to give birth, children crying, a peddler shouting his wares, and birds calling. Neighbors drop by, one after the other, amazed to see this spring-cleaning. After all, there is still a full month to go before Passover!

  But they know that for Precious and Elvina all this activity is a way of keeping their minds busy while they wait for the return of Miriam and Judah. The neighbors offer encouragement, saying that at least the weather is fine, so the roads will be dry, that the three men do not have far to go, and that, in any case, the Crusaders have no reason to make trouble for Jews who are giving them money.

  As for Elvina, never in her whole life has a day seemed so long.

  She has polished the beautiful Sabbath lamp herself, as well as Solomon’s and Judah’s spice boxes. The servants have peeled turnips and leeks and set them to boil with onions, chervil, and eggs. Such a meal will indeed comfort Judah ben Nathan when he returns.

  When the bell of the neighboring church rings out midday, they all hurry to the door, dusters and brooms in hand, as if the ringing bell would somehow bring them the news they are waiting for so anxiously. But the courtyard remains empty. The chickens strut and peck around as usual, the sky grows paler, the wind blows colder, and the yellow light of the sinking sun’s rays dances on the newly burnished metalwork.

  A horse’s neighing echoes in the street, and there is the sound of hooves. The youngest servant cries out to Precious, “Mistress! A group of horsemen is stopping at our house! I think they are Jewish merchants. Their saddlebags are filled to bursting, and one of the riders is a woman!”

  Before Miriam has even dismounted or pushed back her hood, old Zipporah has recognized her. “It’s the mistress!” she cries.

  All the women run toward the traveler, gathering around her and unfolding the woolen scarf that covers her nose and mouth. Elvina sees her mother’s face, white with exhaustion, her cheekbones and forehead black with dust. But her eyes are shining with joy. Miriam stretches out her
arms to Elvina and hugs her tightly. Then, still holding her, Miriam stands back and exclaims, “How pale you are, my child! Your hair is disheveled, and your dress is covered with stains!”

  She has already started to fix one of Elvina’s braids. Pulling her daughter’s ear, Miriam pinches the lobe between her thumb and forefinger. She says, “Tomorrow I’ll pierce your ears to put in the golden earrings that your Aunt Yochebed has sent you. They’re in my purse. You’ll see how pretty they are.”

  Elvina feels as though she has become a child again. Her mother pats and strokes her, licks a finger, and rubs a smudge off her cheek, exactly as she used to do when Elvina was small. “Why are you so dirty? What have you been doing?” asks Miriam.

  Elvina breathes in her mother’s familiar smell. They take each other’s hands as if they were about to start dancing. “We’ve been cleaning both houses. Anyway,” retorts Elvina, “you should take a look at yourself. Your forehead is all scratched.”

  “A branch hit me as we were riding through the forest. We were going fast, and I didn’t duck in time. But you haven’t told me about your friend Tova and her baby. How are they? Later we’ll go visit them.”

  Miriam and Elvina laugh and hug each other and talk about their plans.

  Soon a crowd has gathered in front of Solomon ben Isaac’s house. Someone hurries off to tell him the news, and he drops everything and comes running at once. He is beaming, radiant with happiness at seeing his daughter safe and sound! Samuel and Yom Tov, who have been allowed out of school, follow close on Solomon’s heels. The neighbors press around Miriam, and one after the other, they throw their arms around her and rejoice. Even the cat rubs himself against the hem of her skirt.

  Miriam kisses her father; then she turns to Samuel. “Your father, Meir ben Samuel, sends his blessing; your mother is in good health. Your brother, Isaac, and sister Fleurdelis and little Hannah are all well, may God protect them.”

  Precious has already started giving orders, and the servants get busy. They bring out pitchers of water and towels so the travelers can wash their hands. On the table in the dining room jugs of wine and goblets are set down. There is a pot full of steaming cooked vegetables with bread and cheese as well as apples, nuts, dried figs, and honey cakes. What a spread! Nothing is too fine to celebrate the return of Solomon’s eldest daughter. He has invited the four merchants who have brought Miriam home to come in and eat. Neighbors have taken charge of leading the horses to the stables and feeding them.

  Elvina sits on one side of Miriam and Precious on the other. They watch Miriam dunking her bread into the soup as if they had never seen her do it before! Zipporah and the two other servants can’t stop touching her, as if to make sure that she is really here in the flesh. Miriam shakes them off laughing: “You’re crushing me! Let me eat; I’m hungry. We’ve been on the road since dawn, and we only stopped once in the forest at midday.”

  Little by little, the table grows silent. Miriam turns to Solomon ben Isaac and says, “My father must certainly have wondered what I was doing traveling the day after an eclipse.”

  “I imagine that my son-in-law Meir ben Samuel didn’t allow you to leave without considering the matter carefully,” replies Solomon, smiling.

  In reply, Miriam explains, “This morning, Meir ben Samuel woke up before the cock crowed. He had dreamed that the moon was setting on the horizon, only to disappear in a torrential river. He immediately recited the verses: ‘Behold, I direct peace towards Jerusalem, as a river. . . .’ and ‘The moon shall be confounded and the sun shall be ashamed.’”

  “And how did he interpret this dream?” asks Solomon.

  “He explained that the river represented peace,” Miriam continues. “As for the moon, those who worship her will be brought to grief, for she is nothing but a luminary obeying the Almighty’s will. From this interpretation of his dream, Meir ben Samuel concluded that God would not let the Crusaders mistreat the Jews using the moon as an excuse. He also thought that the troops of Peter the Hermit would soon be on their way and would leave us in peace. After that, Meir ben Samuel told the shamash to inform the merchants that it was safe for them to set out.”

  The four men, who are eating and drinking in silence, nod their approval. The eldest says, “We were quite ready, because we were in a hurry to leave. Our road is long; it takes us all the way to Flanders.”

  Elvina turns toward Miriam. “Weren’t you frightened?”

  “Of course I was,” replies Miriam, “but I so badly wanted to go home! And if your uncle’s dream was good enough for the merchants, it was good enough for me! We were on horseback, traveling quickly, so it was less dangerous. We went through the forest using paths that the Crusaders don’t know. We didn’t meet a soul.”

  Next to Elvina, Solomon ben Isaac laughs with his gentle, mischievous chuckle; it is the way he used to chuckle. “See how my granddaughter can’t believe her ears! Didn’t you know that you get your courage from your mother . . . not to mention your passion for taking risks?”

  Suddenly Miriam sits up and her eyes travel around the room. “Where is Judah ben Nathan? Where is my husband? Haven’t they told him I’m back?”

  Everyone stops speaking. There is silence. Then Solomon answers, “Judah ben Nathan has gone to take the money collected by the Jews to Peter the Hermit. Your husband will be back before nightfall.”

  XXIII

  Solomon has headed back to the synagogue, taking with him the four merchants. They will be given lodging for the night with local families.

  Miriam shivers. She orders the servants to relight the fire, for Judah ben Nathan will certainly need hot water when he comes home. She sends Zipporah across the courtyard to the other house to fetch clean clothes and a blanket in case he might be cold.

  She has kept Samuel and Yom Tov with her, although they wanted to get back to school. She inspects their eyes, mouths, and noses. “Breathe out; put out your tongues. Show me your fingers; good, only a little frostbite on Samuel’s hands. I’ll make you a dressing for them. It will be gone in three days.”

  Samuel protests, “But I won’t be able to write!”

  “Don’t worry. You only need the dressings at night when you’re asleep.”

  Miriam’s tone is firm and reassuring. It is the voice Elvina knows so well that she believes she is hearing it even when her mother is away. Elvina can imitate this voice herself whenever circumstances require it. But today she perceives the anxiety in her mother’s tone; she is talking more than usual, and more quickly.

  “Now let me see your heads! Look at these mops! Didn’t you ever wash while I was away? You’re full of head lice! Didn’t Elvina delouse you, not even once?”

  The boys shake their heads and look knowingly at each other. Yom Tov whistles through his teeth. “Apparently, she had better things to do!”

  “Elvina, come here!” calls Miriam.

  Elvina approaches, dragging her feet. Never have they felt so leaden. Her head is spinning. She is a little weak. She has watched the others eat without swallowing a mouthful herself. Nobody noticed, for all eyes were upon her mother.

  Miriam appears to be passionately interested in the boys’ head lice. “Look at the colonies of vermin they have here! We’ll have to give them a rinse! Elvina,” she orders, “you will mix some alcohol of aniseed with vinegar!”

  Elvina pretends to look at the brown and red bunches of hair her mother is showing her, but a lump forms heavily in her throat. If only my mother knew! If she knew that I might be partly to blame for any harm that may have come to Judah ben Nathan this very day — and, if he has been harmed, we will learn all too soon!

  “Elvina, have you lost your tongue?” Miriam asks anxiously. “I can hardly recognize you; what’s the matter? You seem worried about something; what is it? Answer me.”

  Elvina doesn’t have time to answer, for just at that moment a woman arrives, exclaiming, “Miriam! So they were telling the truth! You really are here! I wanted to see f
or myself!” The newcomer is a rich widow, a childhood friend of Miriam and Yochebed. She has walked into the house without knocking. She rushes up to Miriam and hugs her. The woman smells of perfume and is wearing a beautiful head scarf with a snow-white wimple. Embracing Precious and Elvina, she plies Miriam with questions about the health of Yochebed and her children, Meir ben Samuel’s business, and the Crusaders at Ramerupt. Miriam pulls up an armchair and asks the visitor to sit down, which she does without even stopping to draw breath.

  “So these dreadful Crusaders didn’t hurt you?”

  Miriam replies, “They have set themselves up in barns and fields. You have to admit that they live peacefully enough. They took a few sheep and a donkey from my brother-in-law, but they didn’t actually hurt anyone. It seems they are in a hurry to set off for Jerusalem.”

  The two friends endlessly exchange news. Elvina listens to them with one ear only. The other is straining toward the window and the street outside. Precious serves mulled wine. Above the rooftops the sky gradually grows dimmer, becoming pale pink and then silver. The first star comes out. Elvina can barely distinguish the faces in the room. The boys have made themselves scarce.

  A servant has placed two lamps on the table and begins to light them. Miriam, always so polite and gentle with the servants as with everyone else, suddenly yells, “Since when do we light the lamps in broad daylight? How stupid can you be? Can’t you see the sun is shining?”

  The servant bursts into sobs and then Miriam does the same. Her friend gets up and holds her comfortingly, motioning the servant to take the lamps away, saying, “Night has not yet fallen; we have plenty of time.”