by Shlomo Kalo
“For my part, I shall never mention his name again!” Baruch hastened to soothe these passions, adding: “All the honey and the fresh milk that I brought to that market,” – he was careful this time not to give it a name – “was snapped up, pounced on, and in such a short space of time! God has indeed shown me His manifold mercies and not withheld His favours from me. Sit down my lords, let this table be your table, and my house your house. Let your hearts not be sad, and dispel gloom from your faces!”
“Is that a dig at me?” Simeon’s rusty voice rasped over the heads of the assembled company.
“No, not at all! Such a thought never occurred to me!” Baruch tried to give his voice an emphatic edge. The angry frown on the brow of the questioner eased a little, as the host added: “I was referring to myself, and to anyone else who might be listening.”
They moved to take their seats at a long table covered with white cloths, and by the time they arrived there the refreshments had already been served. He asked Mishael where the other members of the family were, and he in turn consulted Deborah.
“They have gone out,” she replied, “to stroll in the fields outside the walls. We stayed because we knew you were coming, you and Hananiah. And your friend too, who is most welcome here!”
The table was laden with good things: milk in clay pitchers, red wine, pats of butter and cheese on broad fig leaves, dried figs, dates dried and moist, home-baked hallah bread and fresh honey, its sweet aroma still intact, and served in cups. Baruch recited the grace beginning “He who has given us life” and Simeon grunted something which was presumably meant to be an “Amen”, and hosts and guests alike took plates from the pile at the end of the table and filled them with whatever they fancied.
The young ladies made an effort to restrain themselves and not share in the gluttonous frenzy that had gripped the menfolk, but to no avail, and it was not long before they were gobbling with equal gusto and seizing everything that their eyes coveted.
He was hardly aware of the first mouthful. Walking in the fresh air had sharpened his appetite, and the hallah bread still held the fragrance of the fields. He remembered the hallah offered to him in the low, shady houses outside the walls of Jerusalem. Friendly people, of simple ways and warm hospitality, somewhere in the distant homeland, had begged him to take the produce of their hands and bless the living God. He recovered his wits, and took no further share in the collective frenzy. His movements were measured, his eating sober. One after the other, Hananiah and Mishael followed his example.
The diners rose, and the girls began clearing the table while the men made their way to the main living room of the house and from there to a small lobby, the exit to the outside world. A light push and the heavy door swung open before them, revealing the spectacle he had least expected to see: a broad, cultivated field, extending to the ridge of a low hill, enfolding it all around and forming a close horizon. Above their heads stretched a blue sky, mottled with feathery clouds whiter than snow.
“We’re outside the wall!” Hananiah enlightened him, seeing his bemusement.
“This field belongs to the community,” Mishael added, “all of it!”
“To a few families,” he corrected him mildly.
Somewhere, at the far end of the field, the silver ribbon of a flowing stream could be seen, and on one of its banks – a group of women and children. The women saw them and blessed them with raised hands, and they returned the greeting.
To their right, stood a stooping fig tree, with a thick trunk and dense foliage rustling in the light breeze, clearly inclining towards them as if offering shelter. They came and sat down beneath it.
“This is my portion!” he told them calmly, drawing lines in the air to indicate a modest area of land. “The territory that used to belong to my father,” he explained, “was of considerable size – but it was divided! I have six brothers, and each received an equal share, as was the explicit will of my esteemed father. It was also a fundamental contravention of the rules laid down in the Holy Torah!” he added in a tone of mild indignation. “After all, I am the firstborn, and according to the Law…” he sighed and left the sentence unfinished.
Three men appeared from behind them, advancing quietly and joining them. He recognised one of them – Saul, Azariah’s future father-in-law. All three wore brown cloaks, bound at the waist with black leather belts.
“This is Nehemiah!” Simeon introduced a portly, broad-shouldered man – “And he is of priestly lineage!” he added with an air of superior satisfaction. “This is Gideon, one of Baruch’s brothers, and beside him is Saul. His daughter, Havatzelet, is betrothed to your friend, Azariah!”
“When is this wedding due to take place?” Gideon asked.
“When the time is right,” the priestly Nehemiah sighed, as the newcomers shook the hands of the guests and exchanged greetings.
“And that time is drawing near!” Simeon’s rasping voice was heard again, as he tried to imbue his words with mystery and dark significance.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“As the prophet has seen fit to tell us – the end of wicked Babylon is at hand. From that time on, all will be fire and destruction and mayhem – so the sooner this marriage takes place the better!”
No one responded to the impassioned words of the man with the dagger. He felt ill at ease, and turned to the priestly Nehemiah in search of corroboration.
“Is it all true, what he has said? You, as a priest and the son of a priest, are empowered to confirm or deny this.”
“It is true, the statement is accurate!” retorted Nehemiah earnestly, a thick edge to his voice. He added, in a tone of stern authority: “The Lord will deal severely with all those who have not believed in Him, and who have perverted their ways and bowed down to idols and images, and have not repented in time – and that time is not far away!”
“We shall all be called upon then to do the Lord’s work, and cleanse the land of pagans and Gentiles, who have derided the Holy Name of the Lord, and afflicted and scorned His people!” Saul concluded with eyes downcast.
“This will be the great day of the judgment of the Lord, the mighty and awesome warrior, the day of anger and of wrath, the day of fire and pillars of smoke, the day of death and vengeance, such as the world has never seen and the like of which it will never see again!” Simeon declared with grim intensity, lightly fingering the hilt of his dagger as he spoke.
Something in the depths of his soul was chilled with dread. Had it not been said of these people, that they have eyes to see and see not, ears to hear and hear not? And without the mercy of Heaven – where are they going?
“What is the sign portending this time?” he asked.
Simeon hastened to forestall the priestly Nehemiah, answering him:
“Zedekiah, the anointed of the Lord, who sits on the throne of David, who knows the times and knows what is to be – he will show us the sign for which we are waiting, and we shall put an end to Babylon the wicked, as is the commandment of our holy God, and set on fire all the temples of Moloch!
“And you boys,” – Simeon rounded on them, his voice raised and with an unmistakable note of menace, “sitting at your ease in the palace of the pagan king and serving him, will have to decide – to go on pandering to the Chaldeans or to return to your God and cleave to Him and go forth to exact vengeance for His people, the holy nation. No one shall escape the wrath of God, as it is written: If you soar like an eagle and make your nest among the stars, from there I shall bring you down!”
He rose to his feet.
“I think it’s time to leave!” he said, addressing his companions.
Without another word spoken, the two of them stood and joined him. Baruch accompanied them part of the way, and tried to reassure them, in a hesitant voice:
“Not everyone agrees with Simeon, not everyone will listen to him!”
He nodded thoughtfully.
As they left the passage, Nehemiah caught up with them, pa
nting from the effort of running, stopped them with his hand, and turning to him he said:
“As you know, marriage is only one of the great commandments of the holy law of Moses! And as I am sure you have heard, the more generous the fee paid by the groom to the priest – the finer the wedding!” He winked conspiratorially, a strange smile twisting his thick lips, and stood his ground, watching them go. And when they had walked some distance and Hananiah looked back, Nehemiah the priest raised his arm and waved to them in valediction.
Belteshazzar
He awoke with a strange sensation of weight and oppression. His heart was thumping and he was short of breath – as if I have been plagued by a nightmare, he thought – but he could not remember if he had dreamed at all. It’s a passing sensation! he concluded, but still he could not overcome the feeling of suffocation. He tried to calm himself but knew that something was happening or was about to happen, and someone had been hurt or was about to be hurt.
He knelt at the head of his bed and joined his hands in prayer:
“If I have found favour in Your eyes and grace in Your presence, my Father in Heaven, my God, have mercy on those people who have departed from You and have rejected You, and whom disaster threatens!”
His consciousness was cleared and cleansed, and the sense of oppression eased before disappearing altogether. Tears welled in his eyes, tears of gratitude.
Without rousing the slave responsible for the household, he put on a gown and went to the bathhouse; after refreshing himself in cold water he felt almost inclined to burst into song. The cook was aware that his master was awake and he set about preparing his breakfast. When he entered the dining room, he found the table already laden with fresh and warm milk, honey, eggs, toasted bread, cheese and vegetables.
He arrived early in the office, and to his surprise, did not find it empty – Nashdernach, himself and in person, was pacing back and forth, the length and breadth of the office, in a state of obvious agitation, with twitchy fingers clasped behind his back. He did not sense his arrival.
He stood motionless. The first thought that occurred to him was that the trouble he had anticipated had come about and disaster had struck. Was Nashdernach the victim?
“Belteshazzar!” The Chaldean was startled to see him, and in the effort to cover the alarm apparent in his exclamation, hurriedly asked: “Do you always arrive so early?”
“No,” he replied. “This morning I woke earlier than usual, with a sensation of weight and oppression, and I turned to my God and prayed, and the oppression disappeared as if it had never been.”
“I wish I had somewhere to turn to!” Nashdernach sighed, and he saw that his face was pale and his eyes sunken.
“Except that, so it seems…” his supervisor hesitated, and added, as if going off at a tangent: “We Chaldeans were born under a very strange constellation, a gloomy and oppressive one! Saturn has, quite simply, stamped his seal upon us, or perhaps – it’s just in our nature!” And while continuing to pace back and forth, from one end of the office to the other, he went on to say: “There’s no denying it, trouble has come upon us, and disaster is set to strike some of the most eminent officials of the government, strike them mortally!”
“You too?” he asked, the composure of his voice shattered.
“No! Certainly not me. I’m not possessed of the qualities that the people I mentioned are endowed with, or are supposed to be endowed with, those upon whom this terrible blow has fallen. Lend an ear, Belteshazzar, and listen! Our King, His Majesty, the wise and the valiant, conqueror of the world – has dreamed a dream!” And seeing the mystified look in his face he hastily explained: “And this is the entire cause of the trouble and of the looming disaster. The King dreamed a dream,” he repeated emphatically, “and his heart pounded, and he rose from his bed, and ordered the immediate summoning of all the soothsayers and magicians, the sorcerers, diviners and astrologers. And all those who were summoned came at once, consumed by panic and shaking with fear, and they stood dumbfounded in a semicircle at the foot of the high throne of the King. And the King, seated on his throne in all his pomp and majesty, addressed his flustered courtiers and made of them – to say the very least – a most unusual demand. It could be described as a demand the like of which has never been heard before. And included in this assemblage of soothsayers and magicians and sorcerers and astrologers was my brother-in-law, a genial fellow and a family man, who has no truck with the world of diviners and magicians and their dubious profession and their delving into mysteries, in any respect whatsoever – other than through the fact that his father was a talented soothsayer, a veritable wizard, as was his grandfather, and they, the father and grandfather, served the Kings of Babylon faithfully and were guests at their table and lived lives of comfort and ease. And my brother-in-law, in accordance with the enlightened laws of Babylon, inherited their appointment, along with all the trappings that belong to it.
“And since this dream that our wise and valiant King, His Majesty, so graciously dreamed, my brother-in-law, a peace-loving man of simple pleasures, has lived in the shadow of the deadliest danger!”
“The King demanded of all those soothsayers and magicians – that they interpret his dream?” he asked.
“Yes!” Nashdernach replied, and he stopped, turned and stood facing him, no longer fidgeting nervously with his fingers behind his back. “Precisely so! He demanded that they interpret his dream! But the problem is that not one of the King’s eminent soothsayers, not one of his magicians, never mind all the rest,” – Nashdernach raised both arms in a gesture of utter helplessness, as if pleading for the mercy of Heaven – “has the faintest idea what he is supposed to be interpreting!”
“The dream, surely!”
“The dream, yes, to be sure. Just as you say. To interpret the dream, explain it, solve it – that’s the inimitable skill of these people! Tell them of a vision in which all the characters participating are split into two halves, and there are many of them, and the situations in which they are embroiled are strange and inexplicable, and they, these cunning readers of mysteries, will turn to you with broad smiles on their smug faces, bow to you and say: ‘You are going to hear good news from relations and family, and bad news from one who is half a friend.’ And if the news described as ‘good’ fails to satisfy you, your melancholia is directed at those who trouble you. And if the bad news changes its skin and becomes good – it is because you have sacrificed a bull-calf to the god and your sin is forgiven; and if you haven’t yet sacrificed a calf, nor even so much as a dove to one or other of the deities – hurry up and do it, they will tell you – before it is too late!
“And the whole business is clear as the light of day, a matter of simple routine, except in this strange instance involving the King, our wise and valiant King!” – and Nashdernach thumped on one of the tables with his round little fist. “They are all intent on not sparing themselves hard work and travail in the effort to demonstrate their skill in the arts of interpretation, and even, within a short space of time, to attain a remarkable degree of unanimity, in their customary style, the only problem being – to the bewilderment and grief of all – there is nothing to interpret and nothing to explain!” Again Nashdernach raised both arms towards the ceiling.”
“The dream!” he reminded him.
“Of course, the dream!” he repeated in a hollow voice. “This extraordinary royal dream… This time the King is not content with interpretation and explanation; the demand is a different one, involving a prelude to conventional interpretation and solution!” And Nashdernach resumed his tour of the office, his fingers clasped behind his back.
“So what is His Majesty’s pleasure?” he asked, intrigued.
The minister turned sharply and came hurrying towards him, staring at him with a look of despair and giving full voice to his woes:
“First and foremost he wants to be told what was the dream that he dreamed! Yes, absolutely!” – Nashdernach paused for emphasis. “Interpret
ation and explanation can wait. First and foremost he wants the dream revealed to him, the dream that he dreamed himself, in person, no one else. So, the King’s spirit is troubled twice over: first on account of the dream itself and second – because this unique and special dream has fled from his memory! This, then, is the royal demand – that he be told what he dreamed! And as is his way, the King concludes his edict with the customary royal formula: ‘If you do not reveal to me what I dreamed, and interpret the dream that I have forgotten – your blood be upon your heads!’ Meaning, your blood will be spilled at the hands of the royal executioner. And the word of His Majesty the King is not spoken idly. This morning I was told of the execution of the chief of the sorcerers, and there will be more to come!”
And without a pause, Nashdernach continued, breathing heavily: “They are trying, the soothsayers and the magicians and the sorcerers and all the rest, to play for time, for they have no other way of resisting the cruel decree and forestalling the sword that is brandished above their necks. But the King can read their minds and he knows what they are thinking and he is incensed at them, and there is a rumour going about among the courtiers that he intends to wipe out his entire staff of seers and wizards, most of whom obtained their posts through family connections rather than through skill and expertise.
“And because there is no solution and no escape, some of those subtle sages are trying to point the finger at you, the Jewish exiles in the service of the King, you and your three companions, Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego, as those who used spells and secret knowledge to make the King forget, and should now face the consequences of their actions! And there are others who oppose this malicious proposition, but who will gain the upper hand – it is too early to say!”
