Authors: Nathan Erez
Elijah hurried home. Orna was on duty at the hospital that evening, and Elijah had to take care of the girls. Orna, who tended to distrust Elijah’s decision-making processes, had left out some watercolors and paper, so the girls could paint. Elijah arrived home a few minutes before the babysitter was due back with the girls from the amusement park. He arranged the table carefully so as to make it easy for the girls to paint, and he placed his favorite colors close to the paper. However, as his mind was preoccupied, rather than leaving paintbrushes for the girls to work with, he placed a silverware setting alongside each of the paint sets, as if they were to have supper there. Metaphorically, he had merged the two functions.
Spain. Spain. Gabi had mentioned Spain twice. Once he had mentioned Spain as a possible destination for the supercomputer, and again he had noted that the letter with the lighthouse on it had arrived from Spain. Elijah made a mental note to see if he could find a link to Spain. He also sent a request by e-mail to his favorite librarian asking her to dig up information on Luria and Cordovero, as well as to try to track down the origin of the name “Luzzato”. He was convinced that all three names were of Jewish origin, and finding out more about them might help him to learn more about Norman.
Efrat and Michali burst into laughter when they saw their worktable with the silverware along with the paints. To them that served as inspiration and they painted pictures of plates full of food, placing the paint containers on the drawings as “items” in their “meals”. The red paint represented ketchup, while the yellow was mustard. They had the time of their lives. Each in her own way expressed the thought that it was much more fun to be with Daddy than with Mommy, their nursery school teachers, or their babysitters. Elijah looked at the drawings as objectively as any parent can, and thought to himself - objectively, of course - that their work was way above average for their age.
He was amused by his daughters’ high spirits, brought about by his absent-mindedness, and was intrigued at how creatively the girls had dealt with the situation. He tried to concentrate as he scrambled eggs, cut up some vegetables, toasted bread, and removed a packet of sliced cheese from the refrigerator. He was again rewarded with compliments; how much more fun it was when Daddy prepared a meal.
After supper, the girls made no fuss about taking their showers and were soon ready for bed. Any time friends called Orna at that time of day, she would hang up abruptly, telling them, “I have to get the girls ready for bed.” It was a major project each night. Elijah was delighted at how easy it was to “get the girls to bed”. He would have time to study the Ottoman conquest of Jerusalem. In other words, he needed to prepare for a flight to Istanbul. Actually, there was very little for Elijah to catch up on with regard to the Ottoman conquest of Jerusalem. It was one of his favorite eras, and he was very familiar with it. He, nevertheless, decided to look through some of his books in order to remind himself of any isolated fact he might have overlooked.
He was soon deeply engrossed in reading about the construction of the city wall; suddenly he heard a plaintive voice:
“Daddy!” It was Michali. And here he had thought he had gotten them off safely to bed.
“Yes, Darling?”
“Could you come here? I’ve got a tummy ache.”
“Lie on your tummy. It will soon pass.”
Elijah wondered what type of local discord had led to the Jews of that era to abandon the idea of reconstituting the Sanhedrin.
“Daddy!”
“Yes, Michali?”
“I want you to come here. The door is bothering me.”
“What?” Elijah was not sure that he had heard correctly.
“The door to my room is bothering me.”
“Oh, all right... I’m coming.” Well, he could see that his was not the only creative mind in this house.
What does it mean when we are told that the sultans were unable to impose order on the city? How could they permit such a situation to continue?
“Daddy!”
“Yes, Michali?”
“You told me that you were coming already!”
“Mommy will be home soon. If you lie quietly, she will come and give you a kiss.”
“OK.”
“Good night, my precious.”
Elijah surfed the Internet. He found that the Kabbalist Luria was none other than the saintly
Ari
. The information on the Internet was very minimal, merely noting that the
Ari
was the founder of the later stream of Kabbalah. Unlike the earlier Kabbalah - that of the
Zohar
– the Kabbalah of the
Ari
offered redemption for the entire nation and not only for the individual. Elijah devoted some time to rethinking what he could remember about Norman’s mysticism. What was Norman seeking in the Kabbalah? Was it merely a business proposition, given the worldwide interest in it? Were its financial rewards so great that he was willing to sacrifice people’s lives in order to attain his goals? Or did it involve something so much more profound, something that Elijah had not yet discovered?
About five hundred years after the Turks came from Istanbul and conquered Jerusalem, Elijah was on a plane flying in the other direction, and he visualized to himself the causes for the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire. It had probably fallen for the same two reasons that all empires fall. First, it had grown so large that it was impossible for the central government to control its far-flung territories. Second, it had become internally rotten, with the primary preoccupation of its bureaucrats being self-preservation, with little regard for what was good for the empire. In today’s world, no one country rules a distant land, with the locals administering it on behalf of the central government. Elijah found himself with plenty of time to dwell on this subject.
For some unfathomable reason, the Turkish customs officials appeared to be on a working-to-rule strike and it took him longer than anticipated to leave the airport. The long wait gave him time to glance through his guidebook and he even managed to catch a few winks in the First Class lounge.
Only when he finally arrived in Istanbul did he realize that the customs officials had not been the only ones on strike. The country, on the whole, had a rhythm and tempo that were geared to doing everything slowly. It was simply the way the country was run. The contrast to Hong Kong was incredible. It seemed that no one in Turkey was ever in a hurry to get anywhere or do anything, and every line and queue inched along at a snail’s pace. There was a long row of taxis waiting, and when Elijah’s turn came, the taxi driver, who had been busy playing backgammon, begrudgingly rose to help him with his luggage. It was clear that the driver mightily resented this unwelcome and uncalled-for intrusion into his leisure time.
The hotel was in the middle of the Old City, and the driver had to perform various acrobatic stunts just to end up parked outside the hotel entrance. It was a luxury, square-shaped hotel built around a massive atrium. In the atrium, a giant fountain sprayed colored water. The elevator was encased in glass, and it, too, was located inside the atrium. Totally at variance with the elevators in Hong Kong, the elevator in this hotel just crept its way up and down. It was clear to Elijah that if he wished to save time he should use the stairs, but the lethargy of the country had already infected him, and he waited patiently for the elevator.
Elijah’s cover story was that he was an Israeli professor in Istanbul on a short, private vacation, and had only come upon the manuscript by chance. That was why the trip would last but three days, and most of the time he would indeed be touring. To him, this did not exactly present any hardship, especially given the amount of money that would accrue to his account for these three days. In fact, after discovering the ties between Norman and the Luria Investment Company, he had no compunctions about bankrupting Norman.
After a brief tour of the city and of the Emir’s palace, he returned to the hotel, ate an early supper, and went to sleep happily. Those who do not have small children cannot imagine the joy of being able to sleep through an entire night without being disturbed even once. And a person with two small children knows very well that either or both of them would be sure to wake him at least once a night, and that the best one can hope for is that if both children wake him up in the course of a night, at least they should do so at the same time.
Luxuriating in his temporary freedom, Elijah got up later than usual the following morning. He had to be at the book bazaar at noon and passed hundreds of stores selling gold and silver jewelry in order to reach it. He wandered around the book bazaar, cast an eye on the store where his meeting was to take place, and continued strolling around. He spotted a very old
Ketubah
- a Jewish marriage agreement - which had evidently been copied from an even more ancient one. It was obvious to him that whoever had done the copying was not too familiar with the writing style he had tried to copy.
Soon it was time for his meeting. He returned to the store. Someone behind him appeared to have said something like “
donmeh
”, and it sounded as if the person was speaking to him. He entered the store with trepidation, and was relieved to find that the salesperson was a young woman. He wanted to explain what he was doing there, but before he could say a word the young woman said, “Good morning, Professor Shemtov. I am delighted that you came. My name is Ozlem.” Her English was impeccable.
The young woman could not have been more than twenty-three years old. She was thin and wore very old-fashioned glasses. Her hair was short and she had a very pleasant voice. Although she was not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word, there was something exotic and captivating about her looks.
“I thought I was supposed to meet Mr. Alfred,” replied Elijah, somewhat confused.
“Alfred is my brother. He should be here any moment,” said Ozlem with a smile. “He asked me to entertain the distinguished professor from Israel until he arrives. We are delighted that you found time to come to us during your vacation.”
Elijah sat down and enjoyed the apple-flavored tea that Ozlem brought him. He enjoyed talking to her, especially as she seemed to know everything that there was to know about Turkey and Istanbul. The name of the bookstore would translate as “the Tradition of the Book” and she mentioned to Elijah that it had been in the family for five generations and that it dealt with an eclectic selection of books and manuscripts. The family also owned an antique shop in the city’s commercial center.
A young man of about thirty entered the store as they were speaking and Elijah guessed correctly that it was Alfred. Alfred, too, wore glasses, and was somewhat overweight. He sported a short beard and an obvious tendency to baldness.
“Professor Shemtov,” exclaimed Alfred loudly, as he grabbed Elijah’s outstretched hand and shook it enthusiastically. “I’m really sorry about the delay. I hope that Ozlem treated you well.” Like his sister’s, his English was as good as that of a native speaker.
“Ozlem treated me very well indeed, and I learned a great deal from her,” said Elijah.
“I’m sure that you didn’t expect to see the manuscript here,” said Alfred with a smile. “The conditions here are deplorable. In order to see the manuscript, you’ll have to accompany me to our home in Asia.”
“In Asia?” blurted out Elijah, but he immediately recovered from his initial shock. “You, no doubt, mean the Asian section of Istanbul.”
“Right. Istanbul is the only city in the entire world built on two separate continents. The Bosporus Straits separate the two parts. Our European side alone has a greater population than the entire country of Belgium, but for some reason Europeans still look upon us as Asians.”
Ever the scholar, Elijah immediately countered, “Pay no attention to them. The so-called ‘Asians’ included people like Moses, the prophet Isaiah, and Jesus. And they are but a minuscule sample of the many ‘Asians’ who made it in life. After all, they wrote the greatest bestselling book of all times - the Bible.”
Alfred laughed, and went outside to find a cab. Their conversation was stilted throughout the trip and provided Elijah with no information as to how Alfred would have anything to do with the manuscript. Could he be a Jew?
As if reading his thoughts, Alfred suddenly volunteered, “You know, I visited Israel about five years ago, and it never ceased to amaze me that the second or third question everyone asked me was whether I am Jewish.”
“Yes, to Israelis, being a member of the Tribe is an important element,” Elijah said apologetically, although he didn’t fail to notice that Alfred never did tell him whether or not he was Jewish.
The cab made so many twists and turns that Elijah lost his sense of direction altogether. At one point, it took them across a long suspension bridge.