by Katz, Yoram
“They found two torn pieces of paper in Bennet’s closed palm. He was probably holding two sheets of paper when he died. They were torn away from his hand, but parts of them remained inside his palm.” He paused. “These pieces of paper had old Hebrew script on them. The first one read ‘…thirty two wondrous paths…’”
Luria waited for Jeanne to grasp the meaning of these words. It took her a few seconds and then she nodded, speechless.
“On the second piece, only two words were readable; a name.”
“A name? What name?”
“Part of a name, actually; it read ‘Ben Yossef’ – ‘Son of Joseph’”.
“‘Son of Joseph’?” Jeanne considered this for a while and then her hand rose to her mouth in astonishment. “Good Lord!”
“Exactly,” said Luria. “Or was it his son? I never really understood how Christianity had this sorted out…”
“Stop it!” snapped Jeanne and Luria reminded himself that Jeanne had no sense of humor when it came to her faith. “So you think these pieces of paper belonged to the lost scrolls?”
“To be exact, they were parts of photocopies,” said Luria. “But yes, this is what it looks like.”
“And what about the originals?”
‘That is still a mystery. Bennet’s safe was broken into. The murderer has probably taken the originals from there.”
"What about the police? Don’t they have a clue?”
“None at the moment; the man was a professional. He left no traces.”
“Who could he be, do you think?”
“I don’t know, what do you think?”
Jeanne shrugged. “I don’t know. We were so close… this is so frustrating. But that’s all behind us now.”
“Have you decided to give it up, then?”
Jeanne nodded. “Yes. Professor Orlev convinced me that these documents never really belonged to my family, and besides…” She was searching for words.
“What?”
“I fear that if these documents ever become public, they would cause a lot of pain.”
“Pain? To whom?”
“They may offend the beliefs of hundreds of millions of people. Perhaps it is better to leave things as they are.”
Luria looked at her in surprise but said nothing.
Jeanne now changed the subject. “And there is this unclosed matter between us,” she added, softly. Luria hung his head down.
“I love you, Yossi, but we are family now, and I love you like family.”
Luria raised his head. “I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“Had we not been… family, do you think we could have stood a chance, you and me?”
Jeanne smiled. She was definitely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. “I do not think so,” she said.
He gave her a miserable look, and she burst out laughing. “Stop it, Yossi. Don’t be like that. The reason we could not have been real lovers is you, not me.”
Luria’s dejected look was replaced by a puzzled one. “How do you mean?”
"The reason is that you are still in love with another woman,” said Jeanne. “And she is still waiting for you to stop being such a jerk. She is waiting for you to tell her that you are sorry, and that you still love her.”
“Ella?”
“I don’t think a single day went by without you mentioning her to me or confusing me with her. Women are very sensitive to these things, you know.”
Luria frowned.
“Go to her, Yossi. Go to Cambridge. She is waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me? How would you know that?”
“She told me.”
“What?” Luria did not understand. “What did you say?”
“I got her contact from Noga. I called her, introduced myself, and we had a long talk over the phone. I told her that you were still in love with her.”
“I cannot believe you did that.” Luria was flabbergasted.
“You had better start believing,” smiled Jeanne. “We, de Charneys, often come up with unexpected twists. You should know that. After all, you are one of us. Besides, I did what I had to do.”
“When did you speak with her?”
“Yesterday.”
“And how did she react?”
“She cried and I joined her. It was wonderful. Two women crying over the man they love… it was so romantic. There is nothing more liberating than two women weeping together, especially when they are weeping out of happiness.”
She glimpsed at her watch. “I think it is time to say good-bye."
She picked up her handbag, and both rose to their feet. Near the entrance to the secured zone they embraced, and she kissed him on his cheeks.
She presented her passport and boarding pass and crossed the gate. He kept looking at her through the glass.
What a woman.
She turned around, smiled and blew him a kiss.
And then she was gone.
45. Father and Son - Jerusalem, March 6th, 2010 (Saturday)
Yeshayahu Orlev prepared a light dinner, and they sat together to eat. When they were done, he put the dishes in the kitchen sink and took his son to his room. Naphtali sat on his favorite couch, and the professor switched on the TV and sat at his side.
Naphtali loved watching nature documentaries.
After a while, Orlev stood up and walked to the living room. Naphtali did not even notice. Orlev sank into his couch and closed his eyes, lost in thought.
He hoped things would settle down now, at least for a while. He believed he had handled Aryeh quite well. His thoughts wandered to Luria and Jeanne. Was he right to share his revelations with them, even if masked as a hypothesis? He was grateful to them. They helped him, and he felt they earned the right to be told at least part, if not the whole truth. Besides, he had been carrying this burden with him for too long now, and needed to share it with somebody.
But was it wise? Won’t they suspect he knew more than he shared with them? He saw a glimmer of suspicion in Luria’s eyes. That young man was sharp. Besides, he saw how much distress his story caused Jeanne. Was it really necessary? In his advanced age, he should have known better. He should have known that true believers cannot accept a direct attack on their faith. Even Jonathan could not, and he was a first-rate scholar.
He sighed.
After more than fifty years of dealing with religion and faith, he thought he intimately knew their vast, magical power. But did he really? After all, a man must believe in order to appreciate this power, and he, Yeshayahu Orlev, was never truly a believer. Jonathan Bennet was one, and it prevented him from drawing obvious conclusions from facts. Whenever they collided with his belief system, he just could not go the extra mile.
Jonathan Bennet… just thinking of him made his stomach turn. The memories of their last encounter were coming back to him now. They persisted haunting him ever since that day.
* * *
He wanted so much to restore their relationship and return to those happy days… how glad he was when Jonathan finally broke the painful, years-long silence and called him up to suggest they sort things out between them. He was elated… ashamed that it was not he who had taken this step first, but still happy. And then, the fool that he was, he spoiled it all by overdoing it.
What folly…
He wanted to share everything with Jonathan. He wanted to tell him the secret which had been burdening him for the last four years, nearly driving him insane. He struggled with the thought but finally decided to do it. He sampled a few of the glass encased pages from his safe and photocopied them. These scrolls were just a few pages each... but what insights and implications... He was sure Jonathan would be thrilled.
But he was so wrong…
The meeting started perfectly. Jonathan was delighted to see Naphtali. Then, they asked again for each other’s forgiveness and embraced. The conversation turned to happy memories they both shared… even disputed academic subjects were now mentioned casually and
with a smile. Everything felt so right... And then, he decided that the time was ripe, retrieved the envelope from his briefcase and passed it silently to Jonathan.
Jonathan was puzzled. He opened the envelope, pulled out a page and looked at it. At first, he was confused, failing to comprehend what he was looking at. He pulled out another page and reviewed it. Then, all of a sudden, he turned very pale. He froze for a while, then raised his eyes and stared at him. Orlev knew he would never forget the look he saw in Bennet's eyes.
“Where did you get this?” asked Bennet hoarsely, his voice breaking up. “What have you done, Yeshayahu?”
He felt deeply embarrassed. “Don’t you see what this is, Jonathan?” he pleaded. “We are now closer than ever to find out the truth. This will solve our disputes once and for all. You see, we were both right in a way…”
But Jonathan was deeply upset and raised his voice. “You must be insane, Yeshayahu, if you think that an academic research, however important, justifies this...” He held the two pages in his hand and waved them furiously. “These papers are soiled with blood,” he shouted. “What have you done? What have you done to Father Fernando?”
He tried to calm him down. “Please, Jonathan. Whatever happened was an accident, a mishap… but these documents never belonged to Father Fernando in the first place. You will understand after you read…”
But Jonathan lost control. Orlev never saw him like that and never imagined he could act this way. He waved his hands and yelled like a lunatic. He blamed him, Orlev, of being an egomaniac, a murderer…
From the corner of his eye, Orlev noticed Naphtali shifting uneasily in his chair. Naphtali could not tolerate shouting. Orlev feared that if this went on, Naphtali would feel threatened and blow up. He could not afford that.
But Jonathan would not calm down.
He stepped forward and approached his former student and colleague. “That’s enough, Jonathan, now listen to me…” But Jonathan did not stop. He was hysterical. Orlev raised his hand and slapped his face, but Jonathan did not regain his senses. He slapped him again… and again…
* * *
What on earth happened afterwards? Who entered the scene after he had left with Naphtali?
But enough of that! He forced himself to shake off those nightmarish visions. His eyes remained closed.
What will he do now?
He felt empathy with the late Father Fernando Diaz. He could now appreciate the frustration of knowing without being able to share the knowledge with anybody. He could never publish without having to explain how he had gotten hold of the evidence… Well, that will probably have to wait for his will. As an academic, it was a hard thought to digest, but he had accepted it by now. If he needed a demonstration of how bad it could get if he ventured to share this knowledge, Jonathan gave it to him.
Suddenly, he heard a noise and jumped to his feet; something was definitely moving outside. With his heart beating fast, he approached the window and stared out into the moonlit garden.
It was just an alley cat.
He took a deep breath and felt relieved. He must control himself. He was becoming too nervous… but who could blame him? He felt intimidated. It was becoming dangerous. He was now acutely aware of the fact that somebody out there was looking for the scrolls and was ready to kill for them. And this somebody now had a taste of them. The photocopies… he could not forgive himself. How could he have left them there?
It was Naphtali… the child was hysterical, and he could think of nothing else besides getting his son away, before he caused more harm. He remembered very well the previous time when Naphtali had lost control. That dark night in January 2006 was still haunting him.
* * *
That night, he gave Naphtali a sedative to put him to sleep for the few hours he needed to get away for the meeting with Illuz. He must have miscalculated the dosage, because Naphtali woke up at 3 AM. Orlev gave him another pill, yet Naphtali would not go to sleep again. Left with no choice, he took Naphtali with him. Bad idea. He should never have done it, but what else could he have done?
While he was driving to the rendezvous place in the woods, the child took an uneasy nap in his seat. The weather was terrible, with thunderstorms and pouring rain. When they got there, Illuz’s car was already waiting. Orlev put on a plastic rainproof coat and got out. So did Illuz and the two of them stood facing each other in the pouring rain. The cars’ headlights gave the scene a nightmarish look.
Illuz looked at the old man facing him and smelled his weakness. He grinned maliciously and started talking. He was rude and used ugly language. He wanted money on the spot and complained that he had been tricked. He grumbled that the job was much more complicated than he had been told, and that he expected to be compensated.
Orlev never met such people before and did not know how to handle him. He explained that he had no cash with him, that he was only a messenger and besides, he said, that was not the agreement… Illuz just stood there in the rain, laughing his evil laugh and waving the plastic bag as if it was full of rags. He said that the ‘merchandise’ must have been worth much more than what he was getting. He then put the bag on the ground and showed Orlev one of the rectangular glass casings he had inside. He threatened that if Orlev did not pay him something immediately, he would break it into little pieces to convince the old man that he was serious.
Orlev was so shaken by the thought that the invaluable documents might be damaged, that he instinctively jumped towards Illuz and caught his hand. The man shook him off like a fly and Orlev fell into the mud. Illuz then raised his leg and kicked him. He felt a sharp pang in his ribs. Then another kick…
And then it happened.
The car door opened, and Naphtali stormed out of it.
Illuz turned around.
Orlev, lying on his back in the mud, saw Illuz’s eyes widen with horror. The giant child charged at him like a crazed bull, seizing Illuz by the neck and lifting him up in the air. The helpless Illuz tried to hit him with his fists and kick him, but that did not do him much good. Naphtali shook him back and forth by the neck, until the man ceased to resist and became limp and immobile.
Naphtali kept shaking him senselessly like a rag doll. In the dim yellow light, it felt like a scene from Dante’s hell. It was eternity before Orlev could find his voice again. He tried to get up and felt a sharp pain in his ribs. “Naphtali, enough, stop it…”
But Naphtali did not hear him. He kept shaking his now slack rag doll back and forth, making strange sounds. Eventually, Orlev managed to stand up. “That’s enough Naphtali, stop it…”
The child turned towards him. He was all wet with the rain, but Orlev saw tears in his eyes. Naphtali was crying. He then spread his arms, and the lifeless Illuz dropped to the muddy ground. “Daddy… daddy… hug…”
Orlev straightened up painfully and hugged his son. “It is all right, Naphtali,” he said in a broken voice. “Daddy is fine… everything is fine.”
His son started weeping loudly, and it took some time for Orlev to calm him down, walk him to the car and get him into his seat. He returned to the place where Illuz was lying motionless. Trying to avoid looking at him, he picked up the thick, heavy plastic bag that was lying in the mud. He carried it to his car, his heart beating wildly. Now there was only one thing on his mind.
Nobody must know what happened here tonight.
* * *
He should not have taken Naphtali with him that night. Naphtali is an innocent child… He is unaware of his enormous strength. Naphtali can be very dangerous, but nobody must know that. And in any case, it was not Naphtali who killed Jonathan.
Who did then?
Whoever they were, they now had the photocopies of a few pages from both scripts. They could well be on his trail right now. He smiled a bitter smile. They will not find the scrolls with him. He had deposited them in a bank safe a few days after Jonathan’s death, and destroyed Father Diaz’s notebook. The scrolls will be dealt with in his will, not before
that. Whatever happens to him, the scrolls must return to where they belong. He sighed. He wanted so much to share the secret with Jonathan… but Jonathan is gone now… like Ruth…
The only two people he ever cared for were now gone. He was alone in the world… Well, not completely alone. He smiled. There is, of course, Naphtali, his little child. And in this sense, they were both still with him… Ruth and Jonathan.
He sighed again.
They thought I did not know. They thought I was naive…
Well, I am naive, but I am not a fool. These kids thought the truth would hurt me. They were the fools. Why should I have cared? This brilliant, outstanding woman was mine, even if only for a few months, and she gave me the most wonderful gift I could imagine - the love child of the two souls I loved most… I knew she could never love me like she loved him. Can anybody blame her for that?
She was a beautiful young woman and I… well, I am who I am. And in her way, she loved me too. True, a different kind of love… but a love between a student and teacher is, nevertheless, love. Could I have asked for more?
They thought I had no idea… that I did not know… and now I miss them both… but they left me a present, something to remember them by…
Two big tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Daddy…”
He raised his eyes.
“Daddy sad… hug.”
A little child was standing at the door. That was all he was and that was what Yeshayahu Orlev saw. A little child… his little child… his little child with the golden heart…
He smiled lovingly.
“Everything is all right, Naphtali,” he said. “Daddy is not sad. Daddy is just tired, that is all.”
He stood up and held out his arms.
Afterword
“The Kabbalist” is a novel, a work of imagination. Yet I tried to describe the historical events, which serve as the story’s background, as accurately as I could.
As a writer, I naturally took certain liberties in describing some characters and events, and I feel it is important for the reader to be able to separate fact from fiction and opinion.
