‘Let’s get you up,’ he says.
He summons his personal slave Abibaal, who gently turns me on my side. The clinging of fabric against my back tells me that my drying blood has sealed my tunic to my flesh.
When Abibaal pulls me to a sitting position, I shudder, because it feels as though he is peeling the skin from my wound. His face pales when he looks at it.
The comic absurdity in being looked at with his grimace of horror makes me exhale a frail laugh.
‘Abibaal, clean and dress the wound,’ Lucius says.
‘No, my sister will want to do all that,’ I tell him.
‘It cannot wait. You can apologize to your sister later.’
On my agreement, Abibaal helps me back on to my belly. His hand grips mine tightly, as though to keep me from falling, and in his eyes I see his affectionate caring for me, which comes as a surprise. After I thank him for helping, he rushes off to fetch towels and warm water.
‘What did you mean about preparing Yerushalayim?’ Lucius asks me in whisper.
‘Yeshua will fight the Romans and the priests from above and below.’
‘Above and below what?’
‘It’s best that we don’t speak of these matters,’ I say, since I cannot entirely trust him.
‘Eli, I don’t think you are aware of it, but you can be very irritating at times,’ he says, and yet he smiles at me as though he cannot help but cede to his liking for me.
At that moment, his fondness seems proof that he has a deeper self that values loyalty and empathy more than he might believe. Though when I tell him that, he laughs and says, ‘I’m sorry, Eli, but I have no deeper self! And, what’s more, I wouldn’t want one! Deeper selves are like live-in courtesans – they are good in theory but always end up spoiling our few moments of tranquillity and contentment.’
‘Still, we’re more alike than I first thought,’ I say.
He lets out a quick burst of laughter. ‘The pain has made you delirious!’
I reach out to take his hand. He frowns as if I am being silly, but he does not break our connection. He casts his glance towards the swimming pool. In profile, he looks depleted. ‘Maybe it would be best if you stopped working here,’ he whispers regretfully.
‘I’ll stop when I’ve finished all our mosaics,’ I reply.
He gazes down at me and shakes his head as if we are both risking too much. A few moments later, he stands. He presses on his lower back and groans. ‘Do you believe there is such a thing as empathetic pain? The spasms are like a snake coiling around me!’ He sighs and shakes his head. ‘Will you listen to me! You’ve been wounded badly, and I’m the one complaining!’
He laughs at his dramatic tendencies, which permits me to do the same.
Only later do I realize that the comedy we find in our behaviour is down to the euphoria of the body that comes after a near escape; in short, we are both a trifle drunk on having found our way – at least temporarily – out of a lethal trap.
‘Did Annas order his bodyguard to strike me?’ I ask. ‘I didn’t hear him speak.’
‘He signalled with his hand. They must have already discussed his intentions.’
Lucius tells me that he will give orders for a donkey from his stables to be brought to his villa so that I can ride to Bethany. Abibaal has returned by then. He drips warm water mixed with vinegar on to my wound, which sets scorpions stinging my back.
And then, something odd: Abibaal begins to hum an ethereal melody to me. It gives me the impression that he has nursed wounded men many times before.
His admirable voice makes me gaze at him differently, and here is what his resigned smile tells me: Yes, Lazarus, in another time and place I would have sung the great epics all over the known world, and the men and women listening to me would have told themselves that I had been born to be a poet and a singer.
Abibaal ends his melody only when he has completed his dressing. I manage to stand with his help. Leaning on him, I watch the clouds make and unmake themselves. At first, all I espy in their slow and earnest transformations is my own gratitude in being alive, but soon I also see that I shall send my children to safety in another land.
Ester, my father’s sister, lives in Alexandria and will be overjoyed to have them with her. Her sons, Ion and Ariston, will watch over my children on their journey.
And for the first time, Yaphiel, I begin to understand – as though hearing a voice that had been only the slightest of whispers before – that this Passover will be a test for all the world. Shall we prove ourselves worthy of the Promised Land or, like Abibaal, remain in bondage?
Lucius’ bodyguard Germanus – the behemoth I’d met once before – helps me up on to a donkey that is as perfumed as an Egyptian courtesan. The beast shakes his head and hurls a magnificent sneeze the moment I am settled on his back. Am I the source of his discomfort? No, Abibaal is certain that the stable boys ought not to have smeared his muzzle and belly with myrrh before bringing him to the villa.
‘You best keep quiet about the stable boys!’ Germanus warns the slave.
When Abibaal catches my eye, he nods furtively in the direction of the bodyguard and shakes his bottom to indicate that he has loose morals. And so I learn that nearly being murdered in Lucius’ garden has made me an honorary member of his household.
A dense and noisy crowd meets us on my street. Germanus unsheathes his sword and clears a path for us.
As I enter my house, Nahara hears me conversing with Abibaal and dashes in from the courtyard. Her right hand is concealed behind her back and her eyes are bright with mischief. ‘Want to see a snake?’ she asks, squirming with anticipation.
‘I’m too exhausted for this,’ I tell her as Abibaal eases me down on to my mat.
‘No!’ she shouts.
‘Then give me a few moments before you show it to me.’
Nahara looks like my mother as she waits – her lips pursed, her free hand drumming absently against her belly.
I take a deep breath, since I am not yet prepared to re-enter my life. Nahara – playing my shadow – also breathes in hard.
‘Is it a real snake?’ I ask. ‘Where is it?’
‘It’s here!’ she shouts, and she shakes her wooden carving at me – green, with a black tail.
I shriek, which makes her jump up and down. Abibaal joins in our fun, grimacing and throwing up his hands.
My daughter and I have played this game before, and I have learned that what she loves most is in being able to predict exactly how I shall react. Children love knowing what is coming next, of course.
After Abibaal departs with my thanks, Nahara sits with me. Her slender shoulders and pulsing energy remind me of all that is too fragile to survive in this world of ours.
‘Dad, you have a hole in your mouth,’ she informs me with an overly serious look.
‘I lost a tooth.’
‘Where?’
‘In Yerushalayim.’
‘Want me to help you find it?’
‘Later.’
‘We should visit Romulo?’
Romulo is a cousin of Leah’s and a renowned dowser. My daughter enjoys sitting on his shoulders while he uses a forked olive branch to find underground water.
‘I’m too tired,’ I tell her.
Nahara assures me that Romulo is sure to find my tooth if we ask him to look for it, and I praise her for that sound idea, but she hears the catch in my voice and wriggles around nervously to face me. My tears reduce her to stunned silence.
‘I’m crying because I’m overjoyed to see you,’ I tell her.
Mia comes in from the courtyard and swoops down for the girl, which sets Nahara squealing with glee. ‘Gephen is in the courtyard looking for you,’ Mia tells her.
My daughter whines that she would prefer to stay with me, so I promise to join her and Gephen in the courtyard after I’ve had a chance to converse with my sister.
‘How did you manage to lose a tooth?’ Mia asks as soon as Nahara is gone.
‘Is the hole very visible?’ I ask.
She nods, which sends a wave of despair through me.
‘I had a small accident,’ I say, since understatement is always an advisable policy when you have an overly protective eldest sister.
‘What kind of accident?’
Mia is sure to spot the deep bruise on my back sooner or later, but I’d prefer to keep its cause to myself for now. My lie must not be too big or too small, however.
‘The awning over the pool collapsed,’ I say. ‘It caught me on my back.’
‘Let me see the wound.’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Take off your tunic!
‘Mia, I’m a grown man,’ I plead, as if that could convince her. ‘Is Yirmi home yet?’ I ask to change the subject.
‘He must still be with Rabbi Elad. Turn over!’
She whistles appreciatively when she sees the line of blood and swollen skin. I am lying on my belly.
‘Who dressed it?’ she asked.
‘Abibaal, Lucius’ personal slave.’
‘He did a good job.’
She helps me sit up, then drops down beside me.
‘How did the awning fall?’ she asks.
‘Its support snapped.’
Mia accepts my explanation. Now would seem the right time to ease into delicate subjects, so I ask if she was able to give Marta’s talisman to Yeshua.
‘No, I had no time today. I’m sorry.’
When I request that she bring it to me, she asks why.
‘I want to examine it.’
The moment Mia hands it to me, I tuck it under my mat. A mistake.
‘And that was your examination?’ she questions suspiciously.
‘I’ll study it when I am alone,’ I reply. In fact, I intend to bury it under the floor of my storeroom, beneath one of the incantation bowls that protect my house. If I discover that Marta has betrayed us, I shall dig it up and set it aflame.
‘You’re behaving strangely,’ Mia points out. ‘Are you worried about Yeshua?’
‘I’m nearly always worried about him.’
‘So you haven’t heard what he’s done?’ she asks in a shocked voice.
Only then do I remember that he said he would be going to the Temple. My mind has been too long away from what is important, I think reproachfully.
‘What did he do?’ I ask. ‘Is he all right?’
‘They say he’s fine. But listen to this …’ She curls her hair back over her ears as she does when she needs to put scattered thoughts in order. ‘He chased all the money-changers out of the Court of the Gentiles!’ she says in triumph.
‘And he wasn’t caught?’
‘No, he was too quick! Imagine it!’
I have waited years to welcome this news, but, now that it has come, I find – to my surprise – that I would prefer to return to the safety of the day before.
‘And you know what else he did?’ Mia questions with a jubilant rise in her voice. ‘He released all the doves from their cages. Imagine all those thousands of birds flapping away – fanning out into the sky! Then he and his friends freed the sheep and set them charging down the staircase into the square, and the animals got all confused, of course, and I was told that no one could enter the city at any of the nearby gates for more than two hours, and … and it was all a glorious mess!’
Mia, grinning, pauses for a well-deserved breath.
‘Did the Temple priests not try to stop them?’ I ask.
‘How could they? Yeshua had dozens of men with him – many of them from our homeland. And he was quick about his work.’ She jiggles her hand back and forth. ‘He seems to have learned something from his grandmother, after all – he went in and out like a weaver’s shuttle!’
Mia and I give thanks that he escaped injury. She gazes past me towards her hopes. ‘Today, I remembered something Yeshua told us when we heard him preach last year in Natzeret. That it wasn’t enough to understand the world – one must work each day to change it.’ She drops down beside me again and clutches my hand excitedly.
Is it aberrant or fortuitous for a brother and sister to be united at such a moment by their devotion to the same man?
‘If only he can change the way things are,’ she tells me in a whisper.
For Mia, the way things are refers to a long list of injustices but most of all to the destiny of the young women who are forced by shame and poverty to give up their infant children.
‘Listen, Mia,’ I say, doing my best to keep alarm out of my voice, ‘after little Yonah came here this morning to give me Yeshua’s message, did you tell anyone where I was going?’
‘No, no one.’
‘Not even Marta?’
‘Marta? Why?’
‘Just tell me.’
‘She asked where you’d gone, and I told her you’d left early for work. Given how mean-spirited she’s been of late, I thought it best to lie about you going to meet Yeshua.’
‘You did the right thing,’ I tell her.
But if the traitor is not Marta, then who betrayed me?
That question must appear in my expression. Mia frowns. ‘Eli, what’s she done now?’
‘Nothing, it seems I misjudged her.’
‘Misjudged her how?’
‘Annas ben Seth visited me at Lucius’ villa. He knew I’d gone to see Yeshua. I thought Marta must have told him.’
She considers the significance of this new information. ‘A spy must have followed you out of Bethany.’
‘I don’t think so. I was careful. And so was Yeshua. We were alone.’
‘So what did Annas want?’ she asks.
‘He interrogated me about Yeshua’s plans.’
Mia fiddles uncomfortably with the collar of her robe. ‘I see,’ she says in a dark tone. ‘So it was Annas who sent the awning crashing down on you.’
‘The awning didn’t collapse. He ordered his bodyguard to strike me with his sword. Unfortunately, I was climbing up the ladder out of the pool when he struck me.’
Mia looks as if she has been made to swallow poison.
‘Don’t touch me!’ she snaps as I reach out for her.
‘What … what have I done?’ I stutter.
‘I’m your older sister – I ought to have warned you … protected you.’ She pulls at her hair, creating wild tufts at the top. ‘Ever since your revival, this world … Maybe I’m deaf to what it has always been trying to tell me. Is that it? Are we going to lose everything now? Is that it, Eli?’
‘Please, Mia, nothing terrible has happened. I’m all right. And I’ll be more careful now. We’ll be safe. I’ve already told Yeshua that we cannot be seen together in public.’ In rushed words – trying to calm her – I tell her then that of my belief that we’re all of us being tested this Passover.
The shocked silence with which she receives my words chills me. When she knocks her fists against the top of her head and groans, I am reminded of the grief-stricken young woman she became after our parents’ deaths – and of how she managed to salvage the little that remained to us. Ever since then, apparently, she has been waiting for a thief to come and carry away our modest but secure life.
‘Listen, Mia,’ I say in a whisper, in case Nahara is eavesdropping, ‘I’m going to send my children to Aunt Ester after Passover.’
She dries her eyes. ‘But why?’
‘Annas threatened them.’
‘What … what did he say?’
‘That I’d force him to hurt them if I didn’t follow his orders.’
Tears squeeze through her lashes. ‘What are his orders?’
‘To report to him on any conversations I have with Yeshua.’
‘Will you do that?’
‘No, which is why I shall ask Ion and Ariston to leave for Alexandria the day after our Seder, and I’ll send my children in their care. Until then, I need you to promise me that you’ll never leave Nahara alone outside the house. And that you won’t say anything to Marta about where I am or what I
’m doing when I’m not at home.’
‘So you still think she betrayed you?’
‘Yes, I can’t get that feeling out of me. Though I don’t know how she found out where I was going since you didn’t tell her. Perhaps she has discovered some … occult way of hearing what isn’t said in her presence.’
‘Who will look after Yirmi until his departure?’
‘I’ll keep him with me.’
‘Eli, I don’t think you ought to show him the wound on your back or explain about Annas. I know your son – he won’t agree to leave if he’s worried about you.’
I nod my agreement.
‘How long will he and Nahara have to stay in Alexandria?’ she asks.
‘I don’t know. There are too many things beyond my control – just about everything, it sometimes seems.’
Mia covers her eyes with her hands and starts to shake, which convinces me that we must make one more sacrifice.
‘I have something important to ask you to do for me,’ I say, and I kneel next to her and start to comb the wild tufts in her hair back into place, but she pushes me away.
‘I want you to go to Alexandria, too,’ I say. ‘And to take Yehudit and Binyamin with you – and maybe Marta, if you can bear travelling with her. It’ll be safer for all of you in Egypt.’ I manage an ironic laugh. ‘And safer for me with Marta gone.’
‘I can’t leave you alone, Eli.’
‘Grandfather Shimon will be here. And I’ll rest easier knowing you’re safe.’
‘But who’ll cook for you?’
‘Oh, please,’ I scoff. ‘You know very well I can live on dried fruit and bread for months.’
‘Yes, and a flagon of palm wine each night,’ she says with a frown.
‘Would you have me die of thirst?’ I say with my little-brother grin.
Mia pulls the sleeves of her robe out to meet her hands – her long arms have always embarrassed her. She licks her tongue over her lips and nods at me, which means she has made a decision I shall not be able to alter. ‘I’ll send Binyamin with you to Alexandria – and I’ll speak to Yehudit and Marta – but I’m staying.’
‘My children will want you with them,’ I say.
Mia sits up straight and curls her hair behind her ears. ‘After our parents died, I swore that I’d watch over you, and I won’t break that vow now.’
The Gospel According to Lazarus Page 22