Blood Moon Redemption

by Judy DuCharme

  “Stay close. It will keep us hidden.” The man’s voice resonated inside Lydia.

  Mr. Goldman shook his head as he took his wife’s hand.

  “Come along, children.” The man’s voice commanded authority along with a great gentleness. Gabe and Lydia giggled and ran over, each taking one of Hernando’s hands.

  Papa slipped his hand around Mama, and they began following the strange man. Wonderment filled Lydia’s soul. The soft light around Hernando was like a lantern exposing roots and rocks in the path.

  Upon reaching the cluster of homes and roads, they paused. Papa whispered. “It is certain death if we’re seen.”

  Hernando turned. “No fear, my friends, we’ll be there shortly.”

  The streets were deserted. Mama still shook. Mr. Goldman kept looking in every direction. Papa did not take his eyes off Hernando. Lydia and Gabe giggled and skipped, and Hernando did not shush them. Lydia wondered why the adults were so nervous. After all the fear and anger of the early evening, she felt safe again.

  As they turned a corner, Papa gasped and stopped short. Mama’s hands went to her face. There were Queen’s guards, clubs ready, canvassing the street. Hernando simply turned to the others and smiled. The slightest shake of his head indicated they should not worry or speak.

  Mrs. Goldman stood frozen. Her husband wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She buried her face in his shoulder as they stayed close to Hernando.

  The guards, not twenty feet away, looked directly at them, almost through them. Lydia heard her father whisper, “How can this be?”

  “See anything?” one of them called to the other.

  “Thought I heard something down this way.” He walked toward the group.

  The first guard called, “Let’s go. There’s nothing here.” Their footsteps faded in the distance.

  Papa doubled over and placed his hands on his knees. “Did they not see us? How is that possible?” His voice was hoarse.

  Mr. Goldman scrutinized Hernando. “How did that happen?”

  “I am sent to protect you.” Hernando smiled.

  Gabe looked at Lydia. “I wasn’t afraid a moment.”

  Lydia pushed him. “Were too. I was.”

  Papa gazed around. “So was I. I think we all were. Esther, are you okay?”

  Mama held her hands over her face. “I’m still petrified.”

  Mrs. Goldman put her arms around Mama. “But God, blessed be His Name, has again kept us safe.”

  Hernando’s voice was a blanket of calm. “Come. We must continue.”

  Moments later, they arrived at the small stucco house, surrounded by gracious gardens. Hernando laid his hand on Papa’s arm. “Rabbi Liebermann, your descendants are set to influence the blessing and rise of Israel in the end days.”

  Papa stared at the little man. “Israel?”

  “The land of your fathers, the land of your people to come.”

  The door opened. With big eyes, the man looked at Mr. and Mrs. Goldman. “How did you get here? Come in, come in, quickly.”

  “Hernando brought us safely, praise to the Almighty.” Mr. Goldman turned to introduce him to Hernando, but no one was there.

  Papa scanned the area. “Where did he go? We were just speaking to each other. Lydi, did you see him?”

  “Yes, Papa. He smiled, patted my head, and disappeared. I think he went back to heaven.”

  “Rabbi, all of you, we must shut the door. It is not safe.”

  CHAPTER 1

  PRESENT DAY, CHICAGO

  Tassie Stevens ran her hand over the leather arm of the chair and inhaled the professional fragrance of wood, leather, and power in her new office. First day on the job. Get the paperwork over and dive in. She was so ready.

  “So, Tassie, is that your real name? I mean, full name?” The young file clerk looked up and waved his hand. “I mean, is Tassie a nickname?” He looked back at the form ready to write.

  Tassie smiled, wishing she could grimace. She straightened her black suit jacket and crossed her legs in order to keep from tapping her sling-backed heel on the polished floor. She’d been answering this question all her life. “No, it’s Tassel.”

  His head came up, eyebrows arched. Just like a dog with his ears up. He just needs to tilt his head now. The rueful thought amused Tassie, but she was so tired of the joke of her name.

  “Yes, Tassel.” She half-smiled and looked down. “It’s from a story in my family’s history. Now, what else do you need?” The curt explanation effectively stopped any further questioning. The young man continued through the basic paperwork process.

  How dare her parents saddle her with the legend! Fine if they wanted to believe it, but to name her Tassel Lydia after the magical remnant of a prayer shawl and the name of the little girl who saved it was ludicrous. A children’s story! That’s all it was. Who cared about a tassel from 1492? Her brother was stuck being named Reuben Liebermann, the name of Lydia’s father, the rabbi. At least he didn’t have to explain his name every time he turned around. He just went by Rube and no one questioned it.

  From childhood all she wanted was to be a lawyer. A high powered, high-stakes lawyer that people respected and feared. She had gotten the second highest score on the bar exam and landed this position with the best law firm in Chicago.

  She wished she could lie about her name—that Tassie was her legal name, but she couldn’t. She had vowed to be honest as well. That was her upbringing and that was okay. It was just the tassel story. She could still hear him snickering silently.

  Full of stories to share with her parents about her entry into the legal profession, Tassie made her weekly visit to the home where she’d grown up. As soon as she walked through the door, her mother began the conversation.

  “Darling, I have been working on our family history, and I think you—”

  Tassie groaned. “Mother, I really don’t have time.”

  Her mother spread out several sheets of paper, not looking at Tassie. “It will take only a few minutes. I think the most interesting—”

  Tassie stood straight. It served her well as an attorney. It accomplished nothing with her mother. “Mother, look at me. I don’t want to look at your papers. I don’t care about our history.”

  Her mother sat in the chair. She brushed her slightly graying hair off her face and looked up at Tassie with a gentle smile. “Sweetheart, you were a history major.”

  “World history, not family history.” Tassie shook her head. “Besides, it was a good base for law.”

  “I’m quite sure Christopher Columbus, well Cristobal Colombo, is in our family tree.”

  Tassie gazed at the ceiling. “Oh, please. Perhaps we came over with him, but if the story is true, Lydia Liebermann was only eight years old. I highly doubt she married Columbus.”

  “Oh, no, of course not. But his cousin traveled with the Lierbermanns and her son married Lydia. Isn’t that amazing!”

  “Mother, how many generations ago is that? Wait. No. Don’t answer that. It was over five hundred years ago. It’s not really history. It’s speculation. Why should I be interested?”

  “Tassie, you are named for—”

  “I know, I know, and I love you, Mother, but if this name sinks my career, I just . . . I just . . . I don’t . . . ” Tassie faltered and didn’t finish.

  Her mother stood and came around the table. She embraced Tassie. “Nothing will sink you, Tassie Stevens. Don’t you worry. When you want to talk about this, just let me know.” Scooping up the papers, she walked out of the living room into the small study that served as her office.

  Tassie followed. “Mother, I . . . I’m sorry.” She glanced at her mother’s favorite books lining the walls interspersed with sculptures and vases she collected from trips all over the world. The mahogany desk was immaculate except for upholstery fabric samples that covered one end.

  “Oh, no need to fuss.” Mother carefully placed her papers in a file and set it on the side cabinet. She slid an arm aroun
d Tassie and guided her back into the living room. “You have a lot on your plate. I understand.” Her mother stepped back and looked at Tassie. “I love your hair down like that. My beautiful brown-eyed girl. And that dress is very flattering. Stylish and professional. I think you need a little more lipstick to bring out the highlights in that gorgeous auburn hair, though. Jack, what do you think?”

  Tassie’s father glanced up from his easy chair and from the football game. He held out his arms to Tassie. “You always look wonderful. If I were the other lawyer, I’d just rest my case and give you the win.”

  Tassie hurried over and sat on his lap. She fell into her father’s hug just like she’d done since she was a little girl.

  Her father pressed his lips to her forehead. “How’s it going, girl? Got any questions for me?”

  “I do have a couple situations, Daddy.” Tassie loved to discuss case studies and sticky law questions with her dad, a retired judge. And she had never stopped calling him ‘Daddy’. She always thought he was the epitome of a teddy bear and an encyclopedia. As a judge he had been both approachable and exacting in his judgements resulting in high regard throughout his profession.

  Father and daughter climbed out of the chair with a few chuckles and headed into Jack’s den. “We won’t be too long, Mother.”

  Tassie heard her mom chuckle as she closed the door. She could easily spend hours with her dad, yet Mother never complained.

  “Daddy, Mother kind of drives me nuts with all this Columbus stuff. I’d much rather discuss law.”

  Her dad patted her hand. “When we married, she was as exacting as you. Except it was in her study and love for archaeology. She gave up her career dreams to raise you and Rube.”

  “Did that upset her? That would be so hard for me.”

  “Well, she just transferred that gifting to decorating our home with artifacts and furnishings from around the world.” He grinned. “And . . . she included you in the search for pieces of art from almost every time period. She fed you an appreciation for art and history, which prepared you for the study of law.”

  “Oh, Daddy, I think your love and understanding of the law did it.”

  Her father tapped her nose. “Tassie, I worked long hours when you were little. I spent every moment I could with you and your mom and Rube, but those moments were too few for many years. Give your mom some credit. And let her tell you her discoveries. They’re significant. Some day you should ask her about the dream she had when she was pregnant with you.”

  Tassie squinted her eyes at her dad but said nothing.

  Her dad sat up straighter. “Now, let’s hear about your cases. I’m all ears.”

  The next morning in court, Tassie noticed him immediately. As the attorney turned from the opposing lawyer’s bench, his eyes caressed her from her head to the floor. Tassie was glad she did not blush easily, but she felt a warm electricity flow through her. I must be slipping or he’s really good at this.

  The opposing counsel’s face was angular and incredibly handsome. Dark skin with deep set eyes. Close cropped hair with just the slightest curl. Probably had adorable curls as a little boy.

  Tassie smiled before realizing he still gazed at her. She slowly swiveled her head to her fellow attorneys and began talking as if her smile was solely intended for them.

  Two hours later when the judge recessed proceedings until the next day, Tassie glanced one more time in the handsome man’s direction. He nodded at her with the slightest of smiles.

  Smooth. He was very smooth, and because of it, she was not quite sure if she trusted him. Not that she needed to. Rarely did she trust the defense lawyers. His tone was firm when speaking to the witness and the jury, giving him a professional respect in the court, and an underlying kindness that made witnesses open up to him.

  It was the slightest bit of disdain she detected beneath the handsomeness, the professionalism, the kindness that unsettled her. During court proceedings it seemed no one else picked up on it. She watched for skepticism, a slight tilting down of the chin, narrowing of the eyes, but saw not one bit of any of those reactions. Her father always told her she read people well and to trust those instincts implicitly.

  Lost in thought, analyzing every step of procedure in the day’s case, Tassie almost ran into the man as she passed through the courtroom doors.

  “I am so sorry.” Tassie looked directly into his eyes. Deep green, beautiful. Quickly she turned to go past him, fighting a school girl tendency to sigh at his beauty.

  “No need to apologize. I was waiting for you.” He bowed slightly and flashed a beautiful smile. “I’m Omar . . . Omar Tugani. You are very impressive in the courtroom.”

  Tassie paused. “Thank you. You were succinct and put the witness at ease. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  The man touched her arm and shivers ran though her. “Miss Stevens, would you do the honor of allowing me to take you to dinner?”

  Tassie stood straight. “I can’t discuss the case with defense. You know that.”

  The deep green eyes sparkled, and little crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. “I’m quite sure we can find many things to converse about other than our jobs.”

  Tassie cleared her throat and repositioned her purse on her shoulder.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He took her by the elbow and guided her to the elevator. “Chicago Pizza sound good? There’s one just down the street.”

  Tassie laughed. “Excellent choice. Only good things happen over pizza.” Mr. Green Eyes was a little too smooth, but she could handle him.

  Even though her mother sometimes drove her crazy, Tassie enjoyed her Sunday evening visits to her parents.

  “I made ravioli. Would you get the wine, Tassie?”

  Dinner conversation covered court issues, the weather, the neighbor’s sick cat, and plans to remodel the guest room. When dinner was over, her mother brought out her folder.

  Expecting to see remodeling fabric and wallpaper samples, Tassie’s eyes fell on a thick stack of papers, entitled, ‘Four Blood Red Moons: Columbus to Now’.

  “What in the world!” Tassie pursed her lips and turned toward her mother.

  “My latest research about lunar eclipses falling on the Jewish feast days.”

  Tassie shook her head and began clearing the table. “Can I get you coffee, Daddy?”

  “Please.”

  Tassie went to the kitchen, returning with a steaming cup of coffee which she set before her dad. She then poured another glass of wine for her mother and herself. “You . . . this . . . it’s superstitious, Mother. Are you getting into astrology?”

  “Do you remember Uncle Rupert?”

  “Vaguely. He always played with me, but I remember everyone thinking he was crazy.”

  Her dad laughed. “That’s true. A kind old man, but a little off.”

  “Maybe not.” Her mother took a sip of wine. “Do you remember, Jack, what he always talked about?”

  “Yes, yes.” Her father nodded his head. “Lunar eclipses. They started calling him Professor Luney.”

  Tassie laughed. “Oh, my goodness. I remember that. I thought his name was Rupert Luney.”

  Marge groaned and then began to giggle. Soon they were all guffawing.

  “Okay, I’ll bite.” Tassie wiped the tears from her eyes. “What was the reason he was called Professor Luney?”

  “He was obsessed with lunar eclipses.” Her father shrugged his shoulders.

  “Astrology?”

  “No, actually he’d been a science teacher and loved studying and teaching about space. He was really interested in eclipses and began charting them. He was also quite a devout Jew and served as an officer in World War Two. He was able to visit Israel and met David Ben Gurion right when they were struggling as a new nation. He was quite an impressive man.” He sipped his coffee before continuing. “So, anyway, in his study of eclipses, he saw that around 1948 and 1967 there were four lunar eclipses in a row that fell on Jewish feast days.”


  “Well, I suppose that’s not so unusual. Aren’t there about seven lunar eclipses every year?” Tassie sat down at the table and lifted her wine glass to her lips.

  “Yes, there are.” Her mother shuffled the papers. “However, to land on feast days was considered highly significant and seemed to tell of upheaval and harm to the Jews.”

  “Sounds like old wives’ tales.”

  “That’s why he was called Professor Luney. But, look what happened. Israel became a nation in 1948 and regained Jerusalem in 1967.” Marge pointed at one of her papers.

  “Well, that’s interesting, Mother, but it wouldn’t hold up in court. It’s anecdotal, not direct cause and effect.”

  “Perhaps, darling. But this is very interesting because there were also four lunar eclipses on four Jewish feast days near 1492.”

  Tassie rolled her eyes. “And I suppose they’re on Christian holidays in 1776 and 1863. There are probably a dozen of these incidents. It’s all conjecture, Mother.”

  Her dad set down his coffee cup. “It actually is interesting, Tassie, although I must remind everyone that Uncle Rupert Luney was on your mother’s side of the family.” He winked at his wife. “These alignments occurred on Jewish feast days in 1493-94, and then not again until 1949 and 1967. That’s it. Uncle Rupert also studied rabbinical teachings and the rabbis always predicted great upheaval followed by great provision when the lunar eclipses were on feast days.” He spread his hands. “So now Mama Marge has taken up the baton.”

  Tassie groaned. “Okay, it’s history, a little luney, but history. And, we love history in this family, but this stays here . . . in the family. You’re not going to share this with the synagogue and the neighborhood.” Tassie tipped her head at her mother.

  “It’s not just history, Tass, it’s future too, almost present.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “It’s happening this year and next. Four lunar eclipses on four Jewish feast days.”

  Tassie poured another glass of wine and walked over to the window. “Mother, you’re smarter than this. Life is full of interesting coincidences, but you can’t make connections with, with, well, whatever it is. Actually, I don’t want to know what you are trying to say. I have to go.”