The Diamond Setter

by Moshe Sakal

  “See, he was an Arab. But they’re very good people. They worked with Rafael. He told me, ‘You see, you see this road? We’re bringing goods here, and it’s very difficult, we’re afraid they’ll catch us.’ I told him, ‘Really? Then go work in the jora, where they clean out the sewage! But you’re not going to work in a job like that, are you?’ He said, ‘You’re right.’

  “He let me go for one minute — I fell down. I told him, ‘Come here!’ He said, ‘Don’t shout, they’ll catch us!’ I said, ‘You left me, I was so scared, I was afraid I’d fall.’ I made main dans la main with him and we kept going. I told him, ‘There’ll be big trouble if my husband thinks this is not hard for me, he sees it’s hard for me, that’s why he lets me go main dans la main with you. I never went that way with anyone.’ Finally we got to Metula.

  “We sat down, we had to, we had the boy and I was pregnant, too. I said to him, ‘We’ll stay for one week.’ They said, ‘No, you have family, you have to go to Sha’ar Ha’Aliya.’ That’s where all the new immigrants go, they stay there, they give them beds, every day Rafael goes, holds out a dish, they give him a piece of bread, some margarine, and a little jam, that’s the food. That’s it. There was no food! I told him, ‘What is this? Where is the food we used to eat? What happened? Not a single banana, no apples, no oranges.’ Every day Salim says to me, ‘Mama, I want tafaaha — apple.’ I tell him, ‘We don’t have any.’ He says, ‘moz — banana.’ Only later we got to her, Rafael’s sister, in a house that belonged to Arabs in Ha’Tikva neighborhood. After that we came here, to Dizengoff. What we went through, I tell you…”

  She took a sip of water and said no more.

  They sat quietly for a long time. Adela stared at the squares of concrete outside the window, Honi glanced at his phone and remembered why his father had sent him. But he didn’t have the courage to ask her about the shop and the lease. Finally he said softly, “And what about Sabakh?”

  “What did you say?” The old lady raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

  “The diamond. When was the first time you saw it?”

  “Ya sater — God help us! They told you about the diamond?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Menashe and his nephew, Tom.”

  “Oh…He told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That diamond, I don’t remember when I saw it. May…no. I don’t remember. Why do you want to know?”

  “Because Menashe told me.”

  “Your father, Amiram, does he know you came here?” The old lady was becoming suspicious.

  Honi did not answer.

  “If he only knew how his father loved Rafael. Like a brother, he loved him.”

  “I know.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Menashe.”

  “He told you everything, Menashe?”

  “Not everything. He said there are some things I don’t need to know.”

  “No, listen. You need to know everything, but you don’t need to tell everything. So tell me, Honi, what do you know about the diamond?”

  “I know there’s a blue diamond.”

  “Do you know everything about it?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll tell you.” She looked at him with half a smile but paused for a moment until she finally nodded and told him what was in her heart.

  3

  “That woman, Rafael’s aunt, Gracia, she started it all.”

  “What did she start?” Honi asked.

  “In Damascus, when she was a girl, sixteen, she went to the Muslims’ cafés and she sang. She had a beautiful voice, really very beautiful she sang. So she went there and sang, and them, the Arabs, they came. And they came a lot, with their money and their presents — here a gold chain, there an expensive scarf, here precious jewels. They gave her everything. And Gracia, she takes the gifts and sings for them. After the singing, they take her to their homes. Then she had money and she bought a big house in the Jewish neighborhood, and her boyfriend came to her house with his friends, and they all sat around her place. And she sings and plays for him and for his friends. And she smoked a hookah, too, she did. And they were Arabs.

  “Rafael’s mother was blind, ya sater. Can’t see anything. And she sits with her sister Gracia, she lives with her, she listens how Gracia sings for the Arabs. She sang for them — they gave her gifts. Then she found a husband for Mona. That was Rafael’s father. But she herself, Gracia, she didn’t want to marry. She wanted to be, you know, independent. And she had a diamond, the sultan gave it to her. The diamond — this is what she told Mona — it brought a lot of good fortune to Rafael’s family. And they all believed her. She’s a very beautiful woman and she sings so nice and she has money and she has a diamond. So they listen to her and they believe everything she tells them.

  “Only me, I said to Rafael, that diamond, ya sater, it must be sold, or even given away as a gift, just don’t keep it with us. But he wouldn’t listen to me. Never listened to me. His aunt, she holds on to the diamond, and she goes with this man and then with the other man. Then the Arabs start hating us because of them Zionists. And Shayu’s whole family speaks evil about Rafael’s family for being on Gracia’s side. And Gracia, she tries to fix things, but she can’t. In the end, Shayu’s mother, poor woman, fell off the balcony. She was your grandfather Shayu’s mother. What can I tell you…”

  Honi thought about the things his father had told him, but he wasn’t about to interrupt Adela’s story.

  She continued. “Me and Rafael, every year in summer we went to Libnon. It’s very pretty there in Libnon, in Aley. There’s green trees and it’s quiet and there’s a big house and we rest and eat good food. I tell you, we had a beautiful life in Libnon in the summer. And that’s where Rafael met a woman, an Arab from Yafa. This Arab woman used to come with her mother from Yafa every few months. And we’re good friends, Rafael and the Arab woman and me. She was a very beautiful woman.”

  “You mean they were Muslim Arabs?”

  “I’ll tell you. This Arab woman, her mother wasn’t right in the head. Always lay in bed without moving. So her father, Sami, said to her, ‘Go with your mother to Aley, stay there, get some rest.’ It really was very nice there. But she didn’t want to stay with her mother in the room the whole time, she was afraid of her. So she came to us.”

  “What was the Arab woman’s name?”

  “What can I say…I won’t tell you her name. Her father, his name was Sami. And this woman, Rafael loved her very much. He was always happy, Rafael. And he had that, you know, the blue diamond. And I’ll tell you something, Honi: That diamond, Sabakh, it gave us a lot of trouble. You know why?”

  Honi shook his head.

  “I’ll tell you. Where did they find the diamond? In India. With the Indians. That gentleman, the Frenchman, he found it. He was a very important man in India, the Frenchman. What did he do? He took the blue diamond out of the Indians’ holy statue. Took the diamond, took it out of India, sold it over there in Europe. Forgot about it. But the diamond — it didn’t forget! Why did the Frenchman take the diamond from the holy statue in India? Why did he go with it all the way to Europe? He should have left it in India, where it belonged. He took it all the way to Europe, to the kings of France and England, and in the end all the way to the sultan. So I said to Rafael, ‘That diamond, it’ll bring us a lot of trouble one day.’ But he didn’t listen. He was always happy, with his friend from Yafa. She was beautiful, she was. But me, I wasn’t happy. That’s that.”

  Adela stopped talking, and evening fell, and the bricks on the balcony darkened. Honi rubbed his eyes and looked at her. Even though it was late, she did not ask him to leave.

  Honi shook Adela Salomon’s warm hand, said goodbye to Rowena, and walked out onto the street.

  4

  “Honi…”

  “Yes, Tom?”

  “You look troubled.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”


  “Sure, Tomi.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “Why do you think I look troubled?”

  “Because you’re furrowing your brow and you’re whistling. When you start whistling, I know you’re irritated.”

  “You whistle, too, sometimes.”

  “Yes, but it’s not the same. I whistle when I’m happy.”

  “I can’t remember ever seeing you happy, Tomi.”

  “That’s not true. I’m happy now, with you.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Come and lie here on the couch, I’ll scratch your neck.”

  “With your stubble?”

  “Yes, with my stubble. So tell me, how did it go with Adela?”

  “Not easy. She’s a pretty tough woman, but I got through to her in the end.”

  “Did she tell you anything you didn’t know?”

  “Yes and no. We talked about the feud between the families and about the blue diamond. It’s pretty amazing that you’re writing about all that. Adela told me a few stories I’d already heard about your diamond. But I did hear some things about a young woman from Jaffa, an Arab, who I didn’t know anything about until today.”

  “Who is she?”

  “I didn’t quite understand. Someone Rafael was in love with once, in Lebanon. Maybe he had a lover?”

  “I guess so.”

  “But it struck me as odd, because Adela talked about it as if she were part of the story, not like he was doing things behind her back. I didn’t quite get it. I get the feeling they haven’t told us everything about that family. They’re my relatives, but the bottom line is I barely know them.”

  “What did she say this woman from Jaffa was called?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. She just said her father was called Sami.”

  “Sami.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sami, Aunt Gracia’s boyfriend?”

  “What do you mean, her boyfriend?”

  “I’ll tell you some other time. But look, how’s the radio show coming along?”

  “We’ve done loads of interviews.”

  “Cover your mouth when you yawn, Honi. Have you talked to anyone interesting?”

  “I don’t know. Everyone I meet tells me the same thing all the papers say. I still haven’t cracked this program. I’m trying to find a less chewed-over angle, something new. But maybe the department head is right and I shouldn’t have got into this whole thing at all?”

  “No, I think you should keep thinking and working, and in the end you’ll crack it.”

  “Remember how we were talking about passion? I mean, about your passion for writing The Diamond Setter?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “That was the first time we talked, at the café. I was trying to understand why you’re writing this story, and you told me the blue diamond fascinated you. But to tell you the truth, I didn’t really buy it.”

  “What’s not to buy?”

  “I can’t figure out the significance of the diamond for you.”

  “Look, ever since I’ve been working at the jewelry shop, I’ve heard so much from Menashe about that blue diamond, and I thought to myself that if I could somehow reconstruct the story, I’d be accomplishing something much bigger. Through the diamond, I’d tell the story of two families that on the one hand belong to two enemy nations, but on the other hand are connected through bonds of love and secrets, from back when the Middle East was—”

  “— steeped in love and not only in blood, I know. Okay, great. So have you completed the mission? Have you cracked the code? Exposed the lies?”

  “I don’t like your tone, Honi.”

  “Too bad. This whole story is just messing with my mind a little, you know?”

  “Well, either way, I think I’m on the right path. And besides, there are two questions on my mind while I’m writing.”

  “What are they?”

  “I’m interested in finding out whether you can love more than one person at the same time. I mean, romantic love. With everything that implies.”

  “I read an article about that recently. It’s called polyamory.”

  “Yes. The second question is completely different, ostensibly, but perhaps it’s connected to all the things we’ve been talking about. And that is the question of return.”

  “You mean, like the right of return?”

  “Not just the political issue, with the Palestinian refugees and all that. I mean return in a broader sense, in every sense.”

  “I’m not following you, Tomi. What’s the question?”

  “The question is, can you go back? What really interests me is not the return itself but the place. You know, people always fantasize about a time machine that can transport you back to a different time and place. But my question is, do we even have anywhere to go back to?”

  “To me it doesn’t seem important whether we have anywhere to go back to. What’s important is the place we’re in now.”

  “Look, Honi, I started writing The Diamond Setter and I got stuck. One day I read in the paper about that Syrian guy who crossed the border and went on a roots journey in Jaffa. And that little act of his made all these other things come together for me. I realized that for us, the third generation of immigrants, we can’t do anything to change the political situation. Our hands are tied. But we can tell a story. And that’s a lot.”

  “Well said, sweetheart.”

  “Honi…”

  “What?”

  “Can I ask you for something, before you fall asleep?”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “Okay, well it’s just a small thing. I want you to go to the Garden of the Two, in Jaffa. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Some people have set up tents there recently.”

  “Like on Rothschild?”

  “Kind of, but not exactly. Go and talk to people there, okay?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.”

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s important to me, Honi. Come on, don’t I do things for you when you ask?”

  “Okay, I’ll go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But now I want to sleep.”

  “Sweet dreams, my love. Sleep well.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SAMI

  1

  SAMI JABALI WAS BORN ON THE NIGHT OF JANUARY 1, 1900, in the Ajami neighborhood of Yafa. His whole life was affected by this serendipitous birth date. Even the monks at Saint Joseph School were convinced Sami had been blessed with special virtues because he entered the world on the first day of the last century of the second millennium. And so, to be on the safe side, when they lashed the thighs and bottoms of the Christian, Muslim, and Jewish pupils for not speaking among themselves in French, they spared Sami the rod. No one could have predicted that this gaunt, quiet child would grow into a broad-shouldered citrus grower. The seed indicated nothing of the fruit.

  Sami had few childhood memories: his grandmother feeding him apple slices, a chicken that wandered in from the neighbor’s yard standing on the windowsill looking at him with its head cocked, and one other memory, of a little sister who was born at home after many silent months. He had fleeting recollections of her face and her bed, which was separated from his by wooden slats painted white, and the chain of yellow beads that hung above her head. Sami used to stand beside the bed, stick his head between the slats, and reach his finger out to touch the hollow of the baby’s neck, with his eyes closed.

  One day the baby wasn’t there anymore, and Sami’s father dismantled the crib and placed its parts behind the kitchen door. In the weeks that followed, Sami wondered where the baby had gone, but eventually his contemplations stopped, and only her pale pink face, moving from side to side like the head of the chicken on the windowsill, remained dimly engraved in his mind.

  Each time he met a relative or friend of his parents, Sami asked how old
they were and quickly calculated when they had been born and how much older than him they were. From the age of four he knew to look up every day at the new clock tower that had been built in the square — first two floors, then a third — and look for the two clocks, which displayed local time and European time. Legend had it that one of the city’s wealthy Jewish residents, Yosef “Bey” Moyal, who was esteemed by the Ottoman Empire, had grown tired of all the people who were always coming into his shop to ask when the train to Jerusalem left and what time it was. So he commissioned a watchmaker to install two clocks in the tower — one European, which would tell when the train was leaving, and the other a local clock, so that residents would know the prayer times in the mosque.

  When Sami was older, he spent his afternoons in a club near the mosque, where he played billiards with his friends, drank lemonade, and ate ice cream, and on summer days he splashed around in the sea at Jabalya beach. The monks at school liked to tell the children about Jonah the Prophet, who was the closest person to God — so close that he tried to run away from him, via Yafa, to a place called Tarshish. And in the Yafa sea, the same sea where Sami rode the waves all summer long, and in whose waters he dunked his head and opened his eyes and tasted the salt, in this sea a great storm rose up around Jonah and the people sailing in his ship. Only when they threw Jonah into the waves — said the monks — did the storm abate. And then came a great big fish and swallowed Jonah.