The Beauty Queen of Jerusalem (12 page)

“‘
Oy vey iz mir
,' she said. ‘My father will kill me.' And before he could process what was happening, she was gone.

“He was paralyzed, breathless, unsure of what had transpired from the time he had closed the shop and met the girl's eyes until now. He brushed off his clothes, straightened his cap, and turned toward Ohel Moshe.

“His mother was the first to see him. ‘Querido mio, where have you been? What happened to you? I sent Leito to the shop to look for you, I ran to your sister Clara, and you, nada, not a trace!'

“He didn't reply and remained as silent as the Sphinx. He had never lied to his mother, and anyway, what could he tell her? That he'd followed the blue eyes of an Ashkenazia girl?

“‘May He forgive my sins, hijo,' she said, wringing her hand, ‘what's the matter with you? Has the cat got your tongue? Why don't you say something? Have you been robbed? He's been robbed! They've stolen all the shop's takings! The cursed Arabs from Sheikh Badr have robbed him!'

“‘Nobody's robbed me,' he said quickly, and that, at least, was the truth.

“At that moment Raphael came in, his gray beard disheveled, his face chalk white. He leaned against the table and said to his son in a poisonous whisper, ‘I didn't go to the synagogue, I haven't said the evening prayer, I haven't eaten supper. Wash your hands and sit at the table.'

“Raphael had not the slightest doubt about where his son had spent the last few hours. He knew that his worst fears had come to pass. He didn't tell a soul, and certainly not Mercada, but from the moment he'd seen the dybbuk from Safed in his shop doorway, he'd had no peace. He could barely breathe during the day and hardly slept at night. Her image once again haunted him, but his thoughts now, unlike those in the past, were shaded with anxiety and fear.

“When Mercada sensed that her husband hadn't been his usual self, she asked him, ‘
Que pasa,
mi querido, is everything all right?' and he replied impatiently with some flimsy excuse or other.

“Raphael increased his donations to charity and prayed with intensified devotion in the synagogue, begging the Almighty, blessed be He, for the Ashkenazia to go back to where she'd come from, that no harm should come to his family because of the daughter of the strange woman, that life should return to how it was before she and her daughter had shown up from heaven knows where and disturbed his days and nights.

“And as if in answer to his prayer, for the next few days the Ashkenazia and her daughter were nowhere to be seen. He gave thanks to the Almighty, blessed be He. Instead of rekindling his passion, the encounter with the dybbuk from Safed had done exactly the opposite: It was as if the flame had been dwindling and all that remained were the dry twigs, slowly being consumed until the fire would be completely extinguished. Again he gave thanks to his father, may he rest in peace, for marrying him to a fine woman like Mercada, and he even seized the opportunity to go to her bed after a long period of abstinence. And she, for whom anything to do with men's behavior could not surprise her, again closed her eyes and prayed for him to finish what he was doing and leave her alone. But to her shock, for the first time since they'd been married, he didn't get up immediately afterward and go to his own bed. He stayed between her sheets, lay his head on the pillow, and said, ‘You must get Gabriel married quickly.'

“Surprised, she replied, ‘What's the rush? I still haven't checked out all the possible brides.'

“‘We must hurry. Tell Shlomo Molcho that we'll call on them with Gabriel on Saturday evening after Havdalah to agree on terms.'

“‘Raphael, querido, haste is devil-sent. Why this insistence?'

“‘Don't argue with me, woman! The devil can make as much haste as he likes, and you'll curse the day you didn't listen to me and get to Estherika in time.'

“Mercada was seized by fear. What was her husband hinting at? Was her biggest nightmare about to come true, God forbid? Was the bad feeling she'd had for months not just her imagination? Despite the purification she'd undergone with the Kabbalist rabbi, had the evil eye not been removed from her family, and was Lilith still lying in wait?

“She said nothing more, and after dinner the following night, she knocked on Shlomo Molcho's door and told him to ready the house. On Saturday evening she and her husband would be coming with Gabriel to ask for his daughter's hand.”

*   *   *

“Just as Raphael felt tranquility would reign in his life once more, he saw the girl. He had been sitting in the shop doorway, rolling his amber worry beads, and felt as if his heart had stopped. Her gaze was fixed on Gabriel, and Gabriel was not taking his eyes off her. But when Raphael turned back to look at the girl, she was no longer there. ‘A demon,' he whispered to himself and spat three times. ‘A true demon. One minute she's there and the next she's not!'

“May God forgive my sins, he thought. If Mercada finds out about the girl she'll set the whole of Jerusalem alight with rituals! She'll go to all the rabbis in Jerusalem to exorcise her, and she won't sleep at night. Her life will become a living nightmare. He decided he still couldn't tell her. Anyway, the girl would soon disappear from their lives. He would make sure of it. If he had to, he'd take her to her father, who would beat her to within an inch of her life, shave her head, and declare her a loca, a madwoman. He didn't care. If she wouldn't go willingly, he'd make sure she went to
jahannam, Allah yahdi inshallah,
he found himself cursing in Arabic.

“That day, when Gabriel was late from the market, and after Leito arrived and told them that the shop was closed and that he didn't find Gabriel at Clara's or at the synagogue or with the backgammon players in the porters' market, Raphael knew: His son had been possessed. It was a sign from heaven. He had been bewitched by her mother's eyes and now his son had been bewitched by her daughter's. If this was the decree of fate, then he would disobey it! His son,
ras bin eini,
his pride and joy, would have nothing to do with the Ashkenazia girl, no matter the cost.

“The next morning when they went to the shop, Raphael noticed that Gabriel wasn't his usual self. Again and again his eyes roamed to the door, and he didn't go home for his break in the afternoon. When Mercada came with a pan of sofrito she'd made for his lunch, he'd told her he'd been too busy to come home.

“Raphael also noticed that Gabriel was in no hurry to lock up the shop that day.

“‘You go home, Papo,' he told Raphael. ‘I've still got some work to do. I'll be home soon.'

“‘Not soon and not later!' Raphael said forcefully. ‘Either you come now or I wait until you lock up and we go home together.'

“Leito and Leon had already brought the barrels and sacks inside and headed home. The Arab women had gone back to their villages, the stallholders had shut up their stalls, the market had emptied of shoppers and sellers, and she still hadn't come. Even if she did, Gabriel thought to himself, how could I follow her with my father waiting?

“Raphael saw his son was on edge. He'll become a four-eyes, God forbid, if he keeps on squinting at the door like that. I must talk to him. I must warn him, he decided. I'll find the right time.

“When Gabriel finally locked up, the two men started toward Ohel Moshe. Gabriel supported his father as they walked in silence. He was deep in thought about Rochel. What if she never came looking for him at the shop again? What if he never saw her again? He would not let that happen. If she didn't come, then he'd go looking for her! And then, just before they crossed Agrippas Street and were about to go through the stone gateway to Ohel Moshe, he spotted her flitting between the alleys like a shadow.

“Lilith, the thought rushed through Raphael's mind when he too saw her.

“Gabriel's eyes sought the girl. ‘Rochel!' he shouted, forgetting his father beside him.

“Raphael was alarmed. Rochel, may God forgive my sins, he knows her name. And as he tried to see what was happening, Gabriel took his hand from his father's elbow and started running after the girl.

“Raphael brandished his cane and shouted, ‘Rebellious boy! Come back here this instant! Stop, I tell you. Stop!'

“Gabriel hesitated—after all, he had never disobeyed his father—but the fear that Rochel would disappear and he would never see her again was stronger, and he went on running after her through the market's alleys, leaving his old father standing in the darkness, waving his cane and shouting to the heavens with no one to hear. Gabriel continued after Rochel like a madman until she stopped and fell into his arms. He gathered her to his chest and brought his lips to hers. He had never felt such a powerful feeling, as if their bodies had been drawn together. She encircled his neck with her slender arms, standing on tiptoe, and he grasped her waist, drawing her body to his, feeling her small breasts through the coarse material of her dress. Then he held her away from him and she looked into his eyes and said in Yiddish, ‘
Ich hob dich lieb
, I love you.'

“At that moment the world around them ceased to exist. They didn't stop kissing, holding onto each other for dear life, her small body enfolded in his, his mouth whispering words that had never before escaped his lips, and she drinking in each one. Even though she didn't understand every word, she understood his breath on her face, the touch of his lips on her cheek, his heart pounding against hers.

“He'd completely forgotten his old father and didn't think at all about the price he'd pay, for there was no price for what he felt for the girl, who had now taken his hand and inserted it into her dress. He touched her bare skin and shuddered, quickly removing his hand.

“‘No, Rochel. It's forbidden.'

“She didn't reply but continued leading his hand to the lower curve of her belly. He stopped her. ‘No, Rochel,' he said, fighting himself, ‘no.' But his hands started moving over her body, caressing her small, soft breasts. He felt he was struggling to breathe, that in another moment his soul would leave his body, and before he realized the words had come out of his mouth, he said, ‘We mustn't until we get married. We mustn't.'

“Rochel was very quiet, very brave. If her father or brother heard that she'd let a man's hands touch her body, they'd kill her, throw her body into the street, and nobody in Mea Shearim would condemn them for it. She wanted to stay with Gabriel on the filthy sidewalk in the Mahane Yehuda Market and not go back home. She knew what awaited her there. She could feel her father's rage and the blows of her brother's belt. She knew he would tie her to the bed and starve her of food and water for days until blood oozed from her arms. But she was prepared to suffer a thousand deaths for a few minutes in Gabriel's arms.”

*   *   *

“The scandal that erupted in the weeks that followed threatened to tear Jerusalem apart. The extraordinary love story of Rochel Weinstein, the Ashkenazia from Mea Shearim, and Gabriel Ermosa, the Spaniol from Ohel Moshe, was the talk of the town. Not only had Gabriel fallen in love with an Ashkenazia, and a pious Ashkenazia from Mea Shearim to boot, but they were seen holding hands by the Alliance School steps in broad daylight. Raphael went berserk. Mercada fainted. The shouting, the weeping, the rending of garments were to no avail. The oaths and the livianos ceremonies and the exorcisms didn't help either. Gabriel was resolute in his love for Rochel and informed his parents that if they didn't give him their blessing, he would marry her anyway.

“‘It will not happen!' Raphael roared. ‘My son will not marry an Ashkenazia!'

“‘Adio Senor del mundo, how have I sinned,' Mercada wailed and recalled the terrible day she had first seen Rochel and realized she was the devil's daughter, Lilith.

“Rochel was thrown out of her father's house in shame.

“‘
Ich hob nisht mir eine tochter,
I don't have a daughter any longer,' her father cried. He stood up, tore the lapel off his wife's blouse, off his eldest son's shirt, and then his own.

“‘
Mir sitzen shiva noch Rochel,
we're in mourning,' he told his wife and children. ‘Tell everyone in Mea Shearim that we are sitting shiva. Rochel is dead.'

“Since being thrown out of her parents' house Rochel had slept in a different place every night, which Gabriel arranged for her. One night she stayed at Leon's house. His Ashkenazia wife took pity on her, and despite the protests of her husband, who feared going against the will of Mercada and Raphael, she agreed to let her sleep together with her children.

“‘But just for tonight,' she told Gabriel. ‘Leon won't agree to any longer.'

“Rochel also spent a few nights in the home for the aged opposite the Wallach hospital. She paid by changing the residents' beds and emptying their chamber pots, but she couldn't stand the terrible stench, the feeling of nausea that rose in her throat, and she told Gabriel that she would rather sleep in the graveyard across the street. Gabriel swore to her that he would move up the date of their wedding and find them a house. He begged her to remain in the home for a few more days until he could come up with a solution. Rochel agreed, on condition that she'd work the night shift, when most of the residents were sleeping. And except for the deafening screams of one old man who had nightmares, the nights passed relatively quietly and she was able to sleep on the hard bed they'd given her. In the morning, she'd hold her nose as she emptied the chamber pots, and as soon as she'd finished she would hurry out, returning only that night for her next shift.

“In the daytime, Rochel would go to the Western Wall and pray for hours, pleading with God to get her father to forgive her, for Gabriel's father and mother to accept her so that they would be able to start a family. One time, even though she couldn't read or write, she left a note in a crevice in the wall in which she wrapped the few coins she had. Her tears, so she believed, would reach the Almighty faster than her words.