The Jerusalem Inception Part 15

"Your father used to have nightmares." Her face was ashen, the wrinkles of untimely aging growing deeper. "He cried her name in his sleep. Tanya! Tanya!"

"What did he say when you asked him?"

"Nothing." Temimah went to her room, pausing at the door. "He wouldn't answer."

"So you sent him to sleep in the study?"

His mother's voice cracked when she answered, "That was his decision."

"What a nice surprise!" Tanya embraced Lemmy. He had never visited her on a weekday, only on the Sabbath. And she had never embraced him, only touched him briefly, as if unintentionally. Now she was holding him to her, pressing her limbs against him. Without thinking, he kissed the top of her head. She must have just gotten out of the shower, her hair still wet, its scent fresh like flowers.

She took his hand and led him inside. A beige sweater hung loosely from her straight shoulders, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s erect under it. He forced his eyes away, dropped off his hat, and put on a black yarmulke.

Tanya walked to her desk and collected the doc.u.ments that were scattered on it.

He came closer and looked over her shoulder. He saw doc.u.ments in English, German, and French, hand-written notations in Hebrew. Everything was stamped in red: Top Secret "Is this your work?"

"Watch it." She pinched his nose. "You only have one."

"I can keep a secret."

She steered him toward the old couch. "When you love Israel like I do, you do your best to defend it. I'm best in languages, so that's what I do." Her teeth sparkled, and he noticed that her face was flushed, as if she had spent time in the sun. "Talk about defending Israel, why aren't you studying Talmud today?"

"n.o.body's studying today. My father is leading a demonstration against the abortion law."

Tanya turned on the radio-a wooden box with large, black plastic k.n.o.bs for volume and tuning, and a round see-through frequency scale. Static sounds emanated from a square cloth over the speaker while the radio warmed up. Finally, the newscaster's voice came: "Thousands of ultra-Orthodox men gathered to protest the abortion legislation, which pa.s.sed another legislative hurdle this morning in the Knesset. I'm looking at the intersection of Jaffa Street and King George Street, where all the stores have shut down, and the road is a river of black hats. Police officers have taken positions-"

The reporter paused as a roar came from the demonstrators.

"There he is! The leader of Neturay Karta, the famous Rabbi Abraham Gerster." The reporter was practically shouting now. "This rabbi vowed never to set foot outside Jerusalem as long as the Temple Mount is occupied by the Jordanians. He stands on a makeshift platform and recites from Psalms into a loudspeaker. We can only guess what King David would think if he heard his beautiful verses recited by a fanatic rabbi in a black coat as a battle cry against fellow Jews!"

Another roar came from the crowd.

"Something is happening near the platform! I can see men fighting-Orthodox and seculars beating each other! Policemen are rushing in, wielding clubs. My G.o.d! The platform is knocked over! Rabbi Gerster is down! It's a huge scuffle! I just saw some rocks flying overhead! More policemen are running over!"

Shouts of panic came from the radio. Lemmy leaned closer. Tanya put a hand on his knee, pressing it lightly.

The reporter's voice could hardly be heard over the background noise. "They are all rushing in that direction now. Teargas! At least ten canisters just flew over the crowd! Police snipers are shooting teargas from the roofs. It's real war!" He paused again and cried: "Rabbi Gerster is hurt!" After a moment of pure noise, he yelled, "They're picking him up! His face is b.l.o.o.d.y! They're running back to Meah Shearim!"

Tanya turned off the radio.

"I'd better get back home." Lemmy could barely breathe.

"Your father is fine, don't worry."

"He was bleeding!"

"How timely."

He looked at her, bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"His injury happened at the right time. It stopped the fighting just as it was getting out of hand, don't you think?"

"Thank G.o.d!"

She laughed, leaning toward him, her long hair against his cheek. Again, the smell of flowers sent a warm tide through his guts. He felt an urge to bury his face in the thick ma.s.s of her hair. He sat down on the edge of the sofa, weakened.

Tanya put her arm around him. His muscles tensed, and he felt hot. "Please don't." He could barely speak. "It's not allowed."

She touched his neck, her hand cool against his burning skin. "But I'm not a married woman."

"Still."

"Because I haven't dipped in the ritual mikvah?"

He was surprised how easily she read his mind. Every woman was sullied by her monthly menstrual discharge and therefore forbidden to touch a man until her impurity was cleansed by immersing in the mikvah, the community ritual bath of collected rainwater.

"But I'm pure," Tanya said. "I dipped in the sea last week. That's as good as a mikvah, right?"

Lemmy could tell by her tone that she was smiling. He wanted to say that, while the sea was indeed the best form of purifying a woman, the exacting rules prescribed by the rabbis required that she immerse while naked, to ensure that the cleansing water had unhindered access to her impure skin. But the thought of Tanya swimming in the nude paralyzed his tongue, and he bowed his head forward, submitting to her touch. His muscles softened under her firm fingers, which crept up from his nape, to the back of his head. His hair pa.s.sed between her fingers. The world around him shrunk, nothing existed-no sound, no smell, no taste, no sight-nothing but the light touch of Tanya's hand.

His black yarmulke fell to the floor.

Her hand backtracked down to his lower nape, under his ears, brushed against his spiraling payos. He turned to face her.

Chapter 20.

It was close to midnight when Lemmy left Tanya's house. He kept a fast pace along the border that crossed Jerusalem from north to south. A full moon illuminated the night. He was bursting with happiness and energy. Breaking into a run, the hard soles of his black shoes pounded the road.

Down Shivtay Israel Street, near the gate, he slowed down to catch his breath. His parents were likely awake, waiting for him. He had to calm down. There was much he had to tell them. He would make them understand his feelings and thoughts. How could he marry Sorkeh Toiterlich when his heart belonged to Tanya?

It was dark, except for a dim street lamp. The night breeze was cool on his face. He thought of what had happened with her, the all-consuming joy they had shared, joy like he'd never felt before. These feelings could not be sinful!

He entered the gate and hurried up the alley. A hand emerged out of the darkness and yanked him into a doorway. He was thrown against a wall. A whiff of body odor made him gag.

A hushed, urgent voice said, "It's the rabbi's son!"

Lemmy pulled his arm free.

A match was struck, and the bearded face of Redhead Dan appeared. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking a stroll. And you?"

"Don't mess with me, Gerster!"

A car engine sounded in the night. Two headlights appeared in the street, advancing toward the gate.

"Stay here!"

Lemmy watched Redhead Dan approach the car, accompanied by Yoram in his hesitant, stooped gait.

The car stopped. The two men bent over the driver's window. There was a lengthy discussion. Lemmy saw a box emerge from the window. There was more hushed talking, and the engine growled as the car began moving in reverse, retreating up Shivtay Israel Street.

Yoram carried the box through the gate. They stood under a lamp, and Redhead Dan opened the box. Inside were four fist-size metal b.a.l.l.s, more elliptical than round, with black skin that resembled turtle sh.e.l.l. A ring was threaded through a lever at the top of each one.

Redhead Dan grabbed Lemmy's coat and shook him violently. "If you say anything to anybody about this, I'm going to turn you into chopped liver and feed you to the cats. Understood?"

Elie Weiss maneuvered the car in reverse all the way up the street and around the corner. He shifted into first gear and drove away. He had not expected to see Abraham's son with the two men. Had he stayed with Tanya so late? Things must be heating up between them faster than expected. Soon the boy would be ready for the picking, ready to a.s.sume his own clandestine destiny.

As Elie drove through the sleeping neighborhoods of West Jerusalem, he pulled off the fake beard and side locks. He had told Redhead Dan that the car was borrowed from a relative. A more thoughtful man would be suspicious, but the young hothead was eager to take revenge on his Zionist tormentors.

Abraham would be outraged if he ever found out. He had truly embraced his role-playing as the scion of rabbinical ancestry, fulfilling his preordainment as a Talmudic saint, a demiG.o.d for these fundamentalist Jews. Not bad for a man who had lost his faith in G.o.d. But the coming crisis would test Abraham's abilities. The attack on the prime minister would be visible, unquestionable, and dread-inciting beyond its actual nature. The secular Israeli majority would rally behind Eshkol while the state's security agencies clamped down on the ultra-Orthodox. Elie's reward would be the Mossad appointment he had coveted, finally providing him with trained personnel, overseas branches, vehicles and weaponry, which together with Klaus von Koenig's fortune, would enable Elie to pursue his grand vision of countering anti-Semitism worldwide.

There was light in the windows of the apartment. Lemmy ran up the steps. He had to warn his father immediately. The box contained some kind of explosives, he could tell, and Redhead Dan was up to no good.

He entered the foyer and closed the door. His parents were in the dining room.

"Master of the Universe!" His mother ran to him. "We were so worried about you!" Her eyes were red, and she hugged him.

"I'm fine." Lemmy detached from her and entered the dining room.

Rabbi Gerster had an open book of Talmud before him. A white bandage was tied around his head, an oval stain showing through in the middle of his forehead.

"Where did you go?" Temimah asked. "You could have been killed!"

"Father, I need to talk to you." Lemmy approached the table. "I saw-"

Rabbi Gerster got up and slapped him across the face. The blow knocked Lemmy off his feet. He heard his mother scream.

Getting up, he leaned on the table for support until the room stopped spinning. He slowly digested the fact that, for the first time ever, his father had struck him.

He heard the study door slam and went to the foyer. The left side of his face was burning. He banged on the door. "If you hit me again, I'll tell people what a cruel father you are. And a cruel husband."

His mother gasped.

The door opened, and Rabbi Gerster stepped out. He didn't say anything. The oval stain on his bandage had turned red and moist.

Lemmy did not retreat. "I'll tell your flock why my mother has no more children!"

Without a word, his father's hand rose again, flying at his face. But Lemmy was ready, blocking it with his forearm. "One son is too much for you?" He wiped his tears.

"Obviously," his father said.

"There's a solution. He who repudiates his father or his mother shall be put to death. Exodus, twenty-one, seventeen-"

"Wash your hands and your mouth before you quote from the Torah. Behave as a G.o.d-fearing Jew, or else-"

"Or else what? You'll call for a stoning?"

"Or else," Rabbi Gerster said, "I'll banish you from this community!"

Chapter 21.

On Friday morning, Rabbi Abraham Gerster did not go to the synagogue. In the afternoon, he failed to lead his men to the boulder overlooking the Old City to pray for Jerusalem's reunification. On Sabbath morning, when the rabbi again didn't arrive, the men crowded around Lemmy, but he had no answers for them. After the service, the whole community congregated in the alley under the rabbi's apartment, and Cantor Toiterlich led them in recital of the prayer for the sick and infirm, followed by G.o.d is my Shepherd. Temimah sent Lemmy downstairs to thank the men and send them away, explaining that Rabbi Gerster needed rest to recover from his injury.

On Sunday, and on each of the following mornings, the rabbi did not come to the synagogue. On Thursday morning, Lemmy found a bundle of white envelopes on a chair by the door, each with a name written on it by his father. He took the envelopes to the synagogue and placed them in a pile on the lectern before his father's empty chair. After morning service, the men collected their weekly allowances from the pile.

Thursday pa.s.sed without Rabbi Gerster's lecture. Lemmy and Benjamin labored together on the question of ownership of a cow that broke loose from its owner's field to graze on public land, where it was found by another man. When time came for evening service, Benjamin closed his Talmud volume and kissed it. "I wish your father would return already."

"I don't."

Benjamin knuckled Lemmy's head.

"Hey!" Lemmy grabbed his hand and twisted it.

"Ouch!" Benjamin tried to pull free, and they struggled for a moment, laughing until someone shushed them.

Lemmy had not told Benjamin what had happened between him and his father, or about Redhead Dan and his mysterious box, or about Tanya. He felt guilty keeping secrets from Benjamin. But would their friendship survive such revelations?

The cantor struck the large table on the center dais, and all the men stood to chant the prayers.

A few moments into the prayers, Lemmy felt Benjamin's hand on his shoulder. He glanced at his friend, who smiled while praying.

After the evening service, they walked together, resuming their argument about the cow's ownership. Benjamin's interpretation remained attached to the text, while Lemmy theorized that the cow, which wandered off its owner's field, got lost, and was found by another on a public land, was really a metaphor for the Jewish people. "The original owner of the cow was G.o.d. The field was the Promised Land. The cow was the Chosen People-the Jews, exiled from the Promised Land, lost in the countries of the Goyim, the Diaspora. Therefore, as a lost cow, the Jews were sold for slaughter by the n.a.z.is. And G.o.d, like the original owner of the lost cow, took the survivors back to his field-the Promised Land."

"But a cow is not people," Benjamin argued, "the Promised Land is not a field, and the Diaspora is not green pasture. The sages talked about business policy. Good-faith buyers must obtain incontestable ownership no matter if the vendors actually owned the merchandise, including a cow. Otherwise, the markets would be paralyzed with distrust. And anyway, the sages wrote this hundreds of years before the Holocaust and Israel's establishment, right?"

When Lemmy argued that the Talmudic sages were unconsciously predicting the future, Benjamin laughed so hard that his laughter became contagious.

They were standing by the building where Benjamin lived with his mother in a one-room apartment. A group of men came from the direction of the synagogue, and Redhead Dan's voice traveled down the alley, "We're not alone! Others support us, and not only with words! We'll do to the Zionists what they plan to do to babies. An eye for an eye!"

On Friday, Rabbi Gerster remained in seclusion. An hour into the afternoon study session, Redhead Dan mounted the dais and announced that he would be leading a group to the great boulder to pray in view of the Old City. He invited everyone to join. Within minutes, the synagogue was empty. Benjamin tried to convince Lemmy to go, but gave up and left without him.