Authors: Nathan Erez
“Sorry, sorry,” Elijah said apologetically. The man turned around to see who was speaking. He looked very familiar, but Elijah couldn’t place him at first. Elijah was sure he had seen the man before. Just then, Orna walked in and he remembered who the man was. It was the driver who had come to pick up Norman from the Luzatto Institute on Elijah’s first day of work. What was he doing here? And why was he wearing a white hospital gown?
“Eli! You’re back!” Orna called out, her face lighting up.
Elijah hugged her tightly and whispered to her, “Who is that man?” He realized that the man could be helpful in his search, because he might know Norman. On the other hand, he might know nothing at all about him.
“He happens to be Professor Manoach, the chief surgeon in our department, a world expert in eye surgery, especially for corneas and retinas.”
“Are you sure he’s not a cab driver?”
“Are you suggesting that a famous surgeon would be moonlighting as a cabbie? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
“Please introduce us,” Elijah asked Orna.
“Professor Manoach, I’d like you to meet my husband, Dr. Elijah Shemtov.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
“My pleasure too. Haven’t we met before?”
“I rather doubt it. You might have seen me when you came to pick up your wife, because we often operate together. Alternatively, I might have operated on you.”
“Don’t be so modest, Professor Manoach,” Orna chimed in. “It’s a well-known fact that you remember every patient you’ve ever operated on since you started working here in 1948.” Nonetheless, Elijah was one hundred percent certain he had not made a mistake and he had the distinct impression that the cab driver had recognized him as well, but for some reason, he refused to acknowledge it. Elijah found it hard to regard this man as a famous surgeon rather than a taxi driver.
“Orna, could you walk me to the staff car park?” Elijah asked, “And please tell me everything you know about Professor Manoach.”
“To all his patients, Professor Manoach is a saint. They can almost see the halo shining around his head. Among the hospital’s movers and shakers, he’s known for his reticence; he won’t ever breathe a word about any of his patients. Of course, plenty of jealous people reckon he’s just a snob, but the consensus is clear as to his skill as a surgeon. I’ve operated with him on a number of occasions. He’s a stickler for detail and he double-checks everything. He treats every operation as if it was his first, and prepares himself accordingly. When it comes to faces, he has a phenomenal memory.”
They took the elevator down and left by the rear door, straight into the staff car park. Something caught Elijah’s eye, and he stood still for a moment. Orna waited patiently, figuring that he would tell her what caused the delay. Suddenly he started running between the cars, dragging her along with him.
“According to gossip, he operated on King Hussein of Jordan, the Shah of Iran, various Saudi princes - and that’s to name but a few. His patients worship him, not least because he’s discreet even after their deaths. He’s unbelievably devoted to his patients.”
“That’s it! I told you!”
“You haven’t told me anything.”
“That Mercedes - it’s his.”
“Of course it’s his. Everyone knows he drives only a Mercedes. It’s like his trademark. Tell me, is that why you thought he was a cab driver?” Orna was unable to suppress a smile.
“Listen! I know Norman. On my first day at Luzatto, I saw him come to drive Norman to the airport. I agree that the man is totally devoid of charisma, but if he’s so important a surgeon, imagine what that says about Norman’s status - having an esteemed surgeon driving him around!”
“Didn’t you tell me that Norman has major eye problems? Surely the link between the two is obvious.”
“Orna, tell me, do you think that Dr. Manoach has operated on Norman?”
“Or will be operating on him. At any rate, you’ve told me Norman only settles for the best, and Dr. Manoach is the best in his field. He must be Norman’s personal physician.”
“That would mean that Norman must have a file in the hospital computers.”
“I would assume so.”
“Great! Orna, can you get a copy of it for me? Time is working against us.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
“Orna, you’ve really shed light on the whole subject.”
“Look, I’m an eye doctor, aren’t I?”
“You open the eyes of the blind. Do you think I married you just for the sake of it, without an ulterior motive?”
“Between you and me, Dr. Shemtov, you married me because of my beautiful eyes, thank you very much.” Orna laughed.
About 440 years after the Exodus from Egypt, at nearly 1000 B.C.E., Absalom conquered Jerusalem. It was a relatively easy conquest, as his father, the aging King David, had no intention of contesting his beloved son. Rather than do battle, David fled to the desert with his few loyal servants. Thus he spared himself the sight of the masses cheering his son, who had plotted to kill him. Absalom came from Hebron and ascended to Jerusalem from the south, and again David had to fight for his life.
The historians of that time puzzled over why Absalom forgot the most basic move of every coup d'état: first and foremost, kill the dictator! That is a fundamental lesson known to every power-thirsty novice in the Middle East. If a revolution breaks out, do not invest in destroying the king’s army, taking control of the power centers, controlling the media, winning the people's hearts and minds, recruiting foreign powers to join your cause, and other unproven measures. Instead, recite in your mind the traditional and highly effective means, the necessary and the only means: kill the predecessor as soon as possible! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!!! Everything else is marginal. As befits the biblical explanations, the blindness was explained as an act of God that prevented Absalom and his people from seeing the writing on the wall.
One of the people involved in this saga was Ahithophel the Gilonite, David’s advisor, who, for unknown reasons, had reversed his loyalties and joined Absalom against David. The people were afraid to take sides, lest the father and son become reconciled at some point, and David would take revenge against those who had joined Absalom. The first piece of advice that Ahithophel gave Absalom was to deepen the rift with his father by taking David’s concubines. Absalom took his advice, and publicly took David’s concubines as his own, a deed which no feelings of remorse could ever absolve.
After he took Jerusalem, there were two schools of thought as to how Absalom should proceed. The first, that of Ahithophel, was to have Absalom pursue his father and kill him. The second, by Hushai the Archite, was to first mobilize greater forces and then use their superior numbers to crush David and his entire camp. For some reason, Absalom preferred the second suggestion, that of Hushai - a secret supporter of David – which was a disastrous mistake on his part and led to his ultimate downfall.
As soon as Ahithophel realized that his advice had been rejected, he knew that the revolt was doomed and he acted accordingly, by making rational use of the little time remaining to him on earth. As the Bible tells it: “When Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his ass and arose and went to his house, to his city, and gave charge to his household, and hanged himself, and he died; and he was buried in the sepulcher of his father.”
Ahithophel strangled himself a considerable while before the final battle between Absalom and David, in which Absalom was defeated and was killed by Joab the son of Zeruiah, David’s chief of staff. In doing so, Ahithophel violated one of the most sacred tenets of statecraft. Nothing in politics can be anticipated, certainly not who will emerge victorious in any battle. Ahithophel, though, had received his education in the university of hard knocks and not in a modern institute of academic learning, which might be why he ignored these high-sounding principles.
Elijah’s nerves were stretched to the limit and beyond. Feeling that everything was closing in on him, he decided the safest place for him was a coffee shop in the city center. Who would dare go after him there? He sat at a table and ordered a double espresso. Following the quantities of caffeine he had consumed in the last two weeks - enough to bring down an army - he would subject his body to more poison. He took out the printout of the photographed letter from Norman’s desk, and began to decipher it. Its letters combined to form words, which in turn formed sentences:
“To my beloved son Joseph Absalom,
“May He who dwells on High guard and protect you from all evil, Amen. May the Lord, Master of all angels, send you His angels, Pediel, Sariel, and Raziel, the helpers of Metatron, and may He guard and protect you.
“Ever since you left and did not answer, I pine for you who are not here. Your letter arrived on Friday, and I was both happy and sad. I was happy that you are alive and well, but I am concerned because you are in a land at war, and what does this have to do with you? Do we not have enough troubles that you thrust your head into a country where each one swallows the other while still alive? I know what you are looking for, but your path is not a proper one. I am afraid that what I did was not wise, because I wrote you things which should not be written, and I revealed to you secrets of the Torah which should not be revealed, and I taught you the
Ma’aseh Merkavah
- the deepest of the deep of the Kabbalah - which one may not even teach, and only one who is capable of studying it himself may learn it. Nor did I wait until you grew up and became wise and reached the age of understanding. I did so because one never knows one’s day of death, and I was not well and was afraid that you would remain alone.”
The enormous effort required of him to decipher the letter up to that point had made Elijah’s eyes smart. He signaled the waitress that he’d like another double espresso. By now, he was unable to see straight and felt slightly dizzy. That made reading even more difficult. He took a break and looked at the people strolling about. The letter stirred his soul, and he continued reading:
“Even though I know you will not change your mind, I would like to ask you to consider your actions carefully, lest you sin against God and Man. As you well know, our Sages tell us that one who seeks to know what came before all and what will come after - it would have been better had he never been born at all. How much more so is this true for one who tries to change the natural order of things? We have had no greater profits than Elijah and Elisha. Yet, even they - who had the power to change the very course of nature - did not do so except in the direst of circumstances, as when the prophets of Ba’al would have removed belief in the One God from the Jewish people. Elisha too, sent one out in a moment of acute distress, but for the rest of his life he regretted that action.
“You, my beloved son, remember how Rabbi Johanan ben Zakkai regretted his whole life that he had used these powers, and on his deathbed he was not sure if he would even enter Heaven because of that act. You, no doubt, know that the author of the work
Ketem Paz
, whom our ancestors relied on, stated that the use of these matters might even be forbidden by Jewish law, and who can tell what damage they can cause? It was thus not in vain that Rabbi Akiba removed all these scrolls from circulation, and did not even show them to his beloved Bar Kokhba. My son, remember the story of the Mystic de la Reine, who wanted to use this for good purposes - as a blessing - and in the end it turned into a curse, as a result of which thousands of innocents suffered. And you, my beloved son, do you think that you are more holy than Rabbi Isaac? More pure than Rabbi Israel Ba’al Shem Tov? More righteous than Rabbi Elijah of Vilna? More ascetic than Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav? All of these considered use of this for years and decades, and after consulting with the Forces on High made sure to keep far, far away from these matters.
“Furthermore, those before us were giants, while we are but puny ants in comparison. They, with their mighty vision, saw that the time has simply not come and the die has still not been cast. And you, my son, feel that you are able to roll the rock off the well single-handedly and bring salvation? Will you be the one to bring the fountain to the heart? This is something that, with our intellect, we are not even able to fathom. Let the Master of the World take care of it in His time, but you must leave this alone. Remember that Satan lays waiting in the dark, and a single misstep can plunge you to your death.
“Know further that our group is not pleased with the fact that I even keep in touch with you. They also begged me and implored me to promise not to contact you without informing them and receiving their consent, but I refused to accept that restraint. I informed them that the agreement we signed was conditional on the documents existing and for that time. Then, if the documents no longer existed, the society no longer exists and there is no leader. They lodged a complaint with Rabbi Elazar, and he justified me. They nevertheless asked - and I consented - that I be involved in certain procedures to save you from the Pit of Destruction.
“As to myself, even though I have such a very strong desire to see you before I die, I am afraid, my son, that I will not see you in this world. My disease is getting the better of me, and I believe that I will soon be joining your late mother. God will, of course, do what is best. If, indeed, I never see you again, I beg of you, my son, to listen to the words of your father and of all the previous generations. Desist from what you are doing, while you are still able to do so, because you are playing with fire.
“I am very much concerned about your health and welfare, for our Sages say that anyone who delves into these matters is lost. Indeed, some of our greatest rabbis who were involved in these matters - such as Rabbi Isaac Ashkenazi, Rabbi Moshe Luzzato, and Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav - all died prematurely, and did not live out their days. Leave what you are doing, find yourself a wife, and live a long and happy life.
“I have sent this letter to the address on your last letter, but I fear it may not reach you because of the perilous times. I have given a copy of the letter to Judah Gardi, and I have made him swear to guard it like the apple of his eye, but not to keep it in his home. I am sure that when you can, you will meet him and receive the letter from him, for God will surely ordain that.
I sign with tears,
Your father who loves you,
David ben Joseph Moreno, S.T.”
Again a reference to Gardi! Elijah did not understand most of the contents of the letter, but he noted that certain concepts mentioned in it could also be found in the scrolls, and he had managed to decipher those references. He tried to put together whatever facts he could, so as to understand the letter. He noted that the signature was written out in full, and was not an abridged version of the writer’s name. He noted the “S.T.” added at the end, which the accepted wisdom understands as being an abbreviation for “
Sefaradi Tahor
” - a pure Sephardic Jew, namely that the family had a genealogical lineage tracing back all the way to the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492. Elijah, though, knew that that attribution was wrong, and that the abbreviation really stood for “
Sit Ve Tin
”, which in Arabic means “dust and ashes”, thus an indication of the person’s humility, first introduced by great Sephardic rabbis; the type of humility that only a truly great person can allow himself.
Elijah made himself a new list: the water and the marble, the heart and the fountain, the four ways of studying the Torah encapsulated in the Hebrew initials ‘
Pardes
’, Rabbi Akiba and the scrolls, the age when one may study Kabbalah, the
Ma’aseh Merkavah
and the “Other Force”, namely Satan. These were all Kabbalistic ideas, which he understood. He also knew the names of the great Kabbalistic sages.
Now he tried to fathom the relationship between the father and the son. He felt the great love, the pain and the reprimand of the father toward his son. While the father’s name was David, his son’s name was Absalom. It was impossible to ignore another father-son combination with those names, the biblical account of King David and his son Absalom. What could he learn from that biblical story? After all, that was one of the more dramatic conquests of Jerusalem... in the revolt of Absalom against his father, there were all the elements of a Greek tragedy: love, hate, jealousy and sex.
Elijah then thought back to the oft-used Modern Hebrew expression that translates as “the advice of Ahithophel”. Indeed Ahithophel’s advice to Absalom was very sound, and if Absalom had but heeded Ahithophel’s second assessment, he would have become king. According to the Bible, “as if a man inquired at the oracle of God; so was all the counsel of Ahithophel”. The people of Jerusalem at the time were able to evaluate Ahithophel’s advice correctly. Historians are puzzled as to why Absalom overlooked the most elementary rule when someone rebels against a monarch. The very first thing to do is to kill the monarch! Absalom’s blindness to this obvious rule is seen as being God’s intervention in history, which prevented him from seeing the writing on the wall. Had Norman also opposed his father? And if so, why?
Elijah ordered another coffee. His throat burned. He had found no direct link between the biblical story and the letter he had just read and realized that he now had to find out whatever he could about David Moreno and his son Absalom. He ran the names through his mind and even wrote them down. Whenever his mind hit a blank wall, he would write down the names as well, an absent-minded habit of his since primary school. He again wrote the name David Moreno, once from right to left and again from left to right. He couldn’t believe what he now saw: in Hebrew, scrambling the letters comprising the name “Moreno", he got “Normo” - Norman! This surely was no mere coincidence. He had to get out in a hurry. Leaving the waitress the cost of the coffee and a huge tip, he rushed out and hailed the first cab he found. He had no doubt that Nissim Toledano, or, as he used to refer to him, “Uncle Nissim”, would be able to answer a few questions.
Nissim greeted him warmly and effusively, in the style of the Middle East: “Distinguished doctor, hello! How are you, Mr. Shemtov? How’re things at the university? How are Orna and the girls? Come, sit with us.” He rose from his chair. “Welcome to our humble abode. Greetings, my friend and honored guest.”
“Thank God, Uncle Nissim, everyone’s fine. How are you?” The two embraced.
“Thank the Lord, we live and breathe, and speak to those of our friends who are still alive. Everything else is unimportant. The only thing that matters is good health.”
Nissim Toledano was a distant relative of Elijah’s mother. He was always immaculately dressed, and even today, at the age of eighty-two and with a serious heart condition, he wore a light-colored suit and tie. He was a tall, dark-skinned man with a perpetual smile and a completely bald head. He was inordinately proud of the fact that an ancestor of his had arrived in the Holy Land immediately after the Spanish Inquisition when the Jews were expelled from Spain, hence the Hebrew surname Toledano, “from Toledo”. As a child, he had been sent to the Christian Terra Sancta School, where he had achieved total mastery of both literary and spoken Arabic. In the army, he had served in an intelligence unit, and after leaving it he had been involved in numerous governmental assignments whose nature could not be divulged. He had been less successful in his personal life. His wife had been a sickly woman who died very young, leaving him with their daughter, whom he had raised single-handedly. His daughter had married, then divorced, and had offered him no joy. At the age of eighty, he had entered
a retirement home
, where he was a star among the many widows. Elijah had found him in the lobby of the home.
“Uncle Nissim, I bet you knew all the Jerusalem old-timers who spoke Arabic.”
“Of course, doctor!” replied Toledano, falling into Elijah’s trap. “In my days, Jerusalem was a small town, with possibly forty thousand Jews, and I knew them all.” Toledano realized he had gone too far, and backtracked somewhat. “Let’s say that I knew the Sephardi Jews, or at least the vast majority of them. I really did not know the Ashkenazi Jews.”
“Did you know Rabbi Moreno?”
“Which Moreno? There were a number of them. There was one who was a scribe, one who was a rabbi, Moreno the Kabbalist. All of them were members of the same family.”
“What do you know about the Kabbalist?”
“He wasn’t someone I knew well, but all knew of Rabbi David Moreno, head of the Kabbalistic Yeshiva. He was a quiet man, a very learned rabbi, but he had a hard life. During World War I he fled from Turkey so as not to be drafted into the Turkish army, and wound up in Aleppo, Syria. There he married the daughter of a famous Kabbalist. His wife died young, leaving an infant son for him to raise. He never remarried. His son was reputed to be an incredible genius; everyone said he would go very far. This son, though, was a wild one. I don’t remember his name. Rabbi Moreno was loved by all the rabbis of Jerusalem. Guess why.”
“How should I know?” sighed Elijah. “Was it because he was a very great scholar?”
“Not only was he a great scholar, but he knew how to behave. Before he met a great rabbi for the first time, he would find out which works the rabbi had written, and would then proceed to study these works. Rabbi Moreno would come to the rabbi and ask him a basic question about his books. The rabbi would be pleased that he had finally found someone who had read what he had written, and would spend hours talking to Rabbi Moreno. Rabbi Moreno would just sit there and nod his head periodically. The rabbi would then tell everyone how great a scholar Rabbi Moreno was, even though he had not uttered a word...”