Another Me (10 page)

E
ven though I believed my mother was right, I still felt that I should continue trying to help my people. I decided to visit Rabbi Weltner to ask him to arrange another appointment with the Ammeister. I had to know for sure if the councilors had believed that lying Kaspar over me.

When I arrived at the rabbi's house, he was talking to an older man dressed in country clothes.

“Ah, Hans. Welcome!” he said. “I was just telling Yehuda the peddler about you. Yehuda is from the Mulhouse region. Didn't you once tell me that your family comes from there?”

I had no idea where Hans's family came from, but I couldn't tell that to the rabbi with the peddler hanging on our every word, so I nodded. “I've never been to Mulhouse myself.”

“I knew your grandparents well,” Yehuda said. “Your grandmother was my wife's cousin once removed. What a pity that both of them departed from our world so young. Your grandfather wasn't of our faith, of course, but he was a most decent man. In them times, a Jew and a Christian could spend their lives together, but that's forbidden nowadays.”

My ears perked up. If Hans's grandmother was Jewish, didn't that make him Jewish too?

“My grandmother was Jewish? Nobody ever told me that.”

“That she was, as am I. And you?”

“I'm—”

“You and I will talk in a moment, Hans,” the rabbi said, throwing me a meaningful glance. “Yehuda must return to his family before the setting of the sun.”

With that, he stood up and ushered the man out of the room. I waited for him to come back, my mind racing. It had set my imagination on fire—Hans was one of us!

When Rabbi Weltner returned, he sat down and clasped his hands together in a satisfied manner. “I was right, Natan!” he exulted. “Hans has Jewish ancestors—although perhaps even he doesn't know about them. That's why you were able to settle into his body when you became an
ibbur
.” His pleasure dimmed as he took in my drawn and anxious face. He leaned
toward me, his eyes reflecting his concern. “How are things? It can't be easy for you.”

I choked back my tears. He was the first person to show concern for me. Not even Mama and Elena—both of whom loved me but were caught up in their own grief—realized the pain I was experiencing.

“It's difficult,” I acknowledged, “but that's not why I came to see you.”

I told him I was concerned that I hadn't heard back from the Ammeister.

“He promised to notify me as soon as the councilors made up their minds. It's been over two weeks and he still hasn't told me which of us the councilors believed.”

“I don't understand why Schwarber hasn't contacted you. He is a man of his word. There must be a reason for his silence.” He shook his head slowly from side to side. “It's certainly not a good sign.”

“What do you advise me to do, Rabbi?”

He stood up and fetched his cloak. “Let's walk down to his office and talk to him now. He never refuses to see me. Peter Schwarber always has time for the Jews of this city.”

The same clerk as before met us at the Ammeister's door. He asked us to sit down on the hard benches.

“I'll tell the Ammeister that you're here, Rabbi,” he said smarmily. “I'll be just a moment.”

“Schwarber will see us right away,” the rabbi said to me in a confident tone. “He always does.”

The clerk returned a moment later, his expression haughty. “The Ammeister is too busy to talk to you right now,” he said shortly. “Come back another time.”

Rabbi Weltner was incredulous. “Did you tell him I was the one who wanted to see him?”

“I'm repeating exactly what he said.” Gone was his respectful attitude. “Go home, now!”

As we descended the town hall steps, Rabbi Weltner kept repeating, “Something is wrong! Something is wrong! Why wouldn't the Ammeister see us?”

“My mother was right,” I said simply. “Jews like us cannot win. Kaspar has won.”

“You cannot allow that to happen,” the rabbi cried. “You're the only one who can save our people!”

But how was I going to do that?

The next day, Elena and I decided to take a walk to the town square. She wanted to listen to the one of the minstrels who always sang there. When we arrived, however, we found hundreds of people assembled in front of the cathedral. Flags of the different guilds were
flying in the breeze. There were also flags bearing the crests of knights and Strasbourg's old noble families.

Peter Schwarber and his councilors were standing on the steps of the cathedral. They were face to face with Kaspar and a dozen burly butchers and tanners, all waving the flags of their guilds.

Kaspar stepped so close to Schwarber that their faces almost touched. “Ammeister, you and your lackeys have had their day!” he shouted. “Master tradesmen like you have too much power over us. It's time that the people ruled our city and not the rich merchants!”

The crowd roared in approval.

“My councilors and I have always been fair and honest!” Schwarber cried over the din. He stepped back from Kaspar.

“That's true,” shouted a voice from the crowd. “I can vouch for the Ammeister's good intentions!”

“It's my papa,” Elena said. “Why is he here?”

“Isn't he a friend of Peter Schwarber's?” I asked.

Boos rang out from the crowd.

“The Ammeister has the best interests of the people of Strasbourg at heart,” Wilhelm continued.

“Silence, old man!” shouted a voice from the mob.

Elena started toward her father, but I held her back. “There is nothing you can do to help him. Your presence might even make his situation worse.”

“Ammeister, we've had enough of you and your councilors protecting those who bring the Great Pestilence upon us!” Kaspar bellowed. “The Jews must be expelled from our city, and they must leave behind their ill-gotten gains to be enjoyed by the honest citizens of Strasbourg. What's more, no one should be made to repay the money they lent us at such high rates.”

“But…but…the Jews pay us many pieces of gold to ensure their safety,” Schwarber meekly replied.

“Yes, gold that ends up in your hands.”

“Liar!” cried the Ammeister with more vigor.

“Who are you calling a liar?” shouted Kaspar, and he slammed his fist into the Ammeister's belly.

Schwarber doubled over and the two men began to grapple. Several fights broke out in the crowd as well.

I put my arm around Elena's shoulders and steered her in the opposite direction. “Time to go home,” I said.

She tried to push me away. “I must go to my father!”

“Master Wilhelm can take care of himself. You'd only be in his way.”

I felt her relax against me and we fought our way through the pushing, fighting, shouting mob.

As we headed for home, I told Elena about my visit to the Ammeister's office.

“The rabbi was shocked that Schwarber wouldn't see him, but I wasn't surprised. My mother was right—tough times are ahead of us.”

“You can't give up so easily!” Elena said. “You must make the Ammeister listen to you.”

“That's what Rabbi Weltner said also, but I don't know how.”

“You must let me consult my father,” she said, wagging a finger in my face. “He'll tell us what to do.”

I couldn't think of any other options, so I reluctantly agreed.

We were just turning the corner of Elena's street when a man ran by us. “The Great Pestilence has arrived!” he shouted. “The Great Pestilence is in Strasbourg!”

“T
hank God you're home!” Vera cried. “This ain't the time to be gamboling around town. My sister just left. She came to tell me that one of her neighbors sickened with the pestilence.” She crossed herself. “He left our world.”

“We heard about it on the way home. Who was the unfortunate soul?”

“A traveler from Lake Geneva. My sister says he was a jolly fellow until the sickness took him. He was always ready to laugh and banter, but he was gone in a day. Let's hope that nobody else caught it from him.” She stepped closer, wringing her hands. “You must remain inside the house, young mistress, to keep yourself safe!”

“Don't be foolish, Vera,” Elena said. “I have things I must do—fetch our water, buy our bread, sell our merchandise.”

“I'll do those jobs in your stead.”

“I can't be cowering inside the house all the time.”

“If you have to go out, young mistress, make sure that you fix your eyes on the ground. Never lock gazes with an afflicted person. His miasma might enter your body through your eyes.” She turned to me. “The same goes for you, Hans.”

Before I could reply, there was loud banging on the door. When I opened it, Master Wilhelm staggered into the room. He had a cut on his lip and his cloak was torn into shreds. His left eye was bruised and already turning purple. He leaned on my shoulder heavily to keep from falling. I helped him to a bench.

“You're hurt, Papa!” Elena dabbed her handkerchief to his lips. It came away stained crimson. “Who did this to you?”

“We were worried. We saw you in the square,” I said.

“Then you know!” Wilhelm blurted.

“Know what?”

“The Ammeister was stripped of his powers. He's in prison. Kaspar and his accomplices are in charge of the council now. They're governing Strasbourg, heaven help us!”

I pointed to his wounds. “Did Kaspar do this to you?”

“His friends beat me up. They're wild beasts,” Wilhelm said. He gave a lopsided smile. “They're also
nursing a few bruises themselves.”

Vera and Elena exchanged amused glances.

“I'm older than all of you, but the foolish pride of men still amazes me,” Vera said.

“Never mind that,” Wilhelm said. “Why were the two of you in the town square instead of at work here, as you're supposed to be?”

“I wanted to go for a walk, Papa,” Elena said. “I've been working so hard. I needed some fresh air.”

He smiled reluctantly. But when I told him that the plague had arrived in our city, his expression became grim.

“Sweet Jesus,” he cried. “We're in for terrible times!”

“There is something even more serious that I have to tell you, master.”

“What could be more serious than the pestilence?”

And so I told him—about Kaspar poisoning the well and accusing the Jews of our city of the crime. I also told him about how I became an
ibbur
by the grace of the Almighty.

Wilhelm struggled to his feet. “Do you take me for a fool to tell me such a tale?” he roared.

“It's true, Papa! It's true!” Elena cried. “He is Natan and not Hans.”

Her father sank to the bench once again. He looked me over from head to toe. “Could such a preposterous
tale be true?” he muttered to himself. “It would explain why he acts so differently—forgetting everything about our trade, not eating our food, constantly washing his hands.”

He looked at me again and I met his gaze.

“If you're Natan, son of Simon the Jew, tell me how much money I gave you when you brought your father's merchandise to me after he was set upon.”

“You were very generous, master. You paid me with a gold coin. You also told me that you found my father to be an honest man, and that you held him in high regard. You sent him your wishes for his full recovery.”

Amazement was written on Wilhelm's face.

“Only the Jew's son would know such details,” he said to himself. “I feel that Hans must be Natan, but how can I be sure?”

“Because
I
am sure, Papa,” Elena said. “Natan is telling you the truth. Despite his appearance, he is definitely not Hans. I know this with certainty.”

“How can you?”

Elena took a deep breath and straightened her spine. “Because Natan and I loved…I mean, Natan and I
love
each other.”

Although she'd corrected herself, her words were nevertheless a stab in my heart.

She dropped to her knees at her father's feet and put her head on his lap. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before, Papa, but I was worried you'd disapprove.”

Wilhelm turned pale and slumped against the wall. “It's not my disapproval you need to worry about, girl. If the authorities discover your relationship, it's the stockades for you both—or even worse!” He turned to me angrily. “If you love her as you claim you do, how could you expose her to such danger?”

“Your daughter likes to have her way, master. She won't listen to me. She'll do what she likes.”

Wilhelm looked stunned, and then slowly he began to rumble with laughter. “Now I believe you! You know my Elena well!”

Elena kissed his cheek and exclaimed, “I knew you would understand, Papa.”

He patted her hand. “Now don't think that I'm not angry with you both.” He sighed in resignation. “What can I do to help?”

“My people are innocent of poisoning the well, Master Wilhelm. I must save them somehow.”

“The sooner your people leave Strasbourg, the better it will be for them. With Kaspar and his henchmen in power, the Jews will no longer be protected in our city. We must warn your parents and other members of your community of the danger.”

“My father won't listen to anything I say.” I felt so ashamed that I hung my head. “My mother told me that he's furious if she even mentions my name.”

“You must convince him somehow. I'll go with you to see them.” When he tried to stand, he fell back to the bench with a groan.

“You must rest, Papa!” Elena cried.

“Elena is right, master. You're battered and hurt. I'll go to my family by myself tomorrow and warn them of the danger. You'll come with me when your bruises are healed.”

After much argument, he agreed to my proposition. I helped him to his bedchamber and left him to Vera's ministrations, groaning and complaining of the poultices she laid upon him.

I bade Elena good night. Her smile was so fair that I forgot myself for a moment and drew her close to my heart. I bent my head toward her lips, but when I heard her intake of breath, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the house.

The next morning, I walked at a brisk pace to Judenstrasse. I wanted to arrive home while my papa was out on his route. I prayed to the Almighty to soften my father's manner toward me. My heart beat
in anticipation of seeing my mother and Shmuli, but I missed my father so much.

Suddenly, the clouds of time rolled away.

How I wished for life to be the same as before, but I knew it was not to be. I told myself that I had to be strong and think only of ways to save my people. Fear filled my heart, but I thought of Mama, Papa and Shmuli and realized that I couldn't—wouldn't—give up until my last breath.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I barely noticed the bright red crosses on the front doors of several of the houses I passed. The crosses, I knew, marked the places where victims of the plague and their families were quarantined. Curiously, there were no quarantine houses on Judenstrasse.

Finally, I arrived at what had once been my home. When I hammered on our front door, it flew open revealing Shmuli in the doorway with his thumb in his mouth. He stared at me mutely. I smiled at him, but he gazed back with a serious face.

“Get Mama for me.” I pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “Stop it! You're eight years old. Only babies suck their thumbs.”

“Who are you?” he asked, looking at me in a suspicious manner.

I didn't know how to reply. Should I say, “I'm your brother in a brand-new body”? Or should I answer, “I'm Hans, the journeyman draper”? Fortunately, our mother appeared in the doorway behind him, saving me from having to respond.

As Mama embraced me, Shmuli's eyes grew round er. She grabbed his sleeve and drew him into our circle.

“The Almighty has sent the soul of your brother into the body of Hans,” she said, pointing at me.

“Why would he do that?” Shmuli asked. He put his thumb back into his mouth and began to suck it noisily.

Mama pulled it out. “He's been sucking his thumb a lot more since you've been gone.”

I pulled Shmuli closer. “The Almighty sent my soul into Hans because he wants me to save our people,” I explained.

“We don't question God's reasons,” Mama said. “Just be grateful that your brother is still with us.”

Shmuli shrugged his shoulders and kept on peering at me furtively. But I noticed that he no longer pulled away from my embrace.

“Have a seat, my son, and stay a while. Your father won't be home for several hours.” Her expression clouded. “I don't know what to do with him. He won't listen to anything I say about you.”

“I can't stay, Mama. I wish I could spend more time with you and Shmuli, but I still have to warn our friends. Please tell Papa that Ammeister Schwarber and the master tradesmen are no longer in charge. Kaspar and his cronies are running the city.”

“This means grief and hard times for us!” she cried.

“You're right. That's why Papa must make sure that all our friends and neighbors know. I'll speak to Rabbi Weltner myself. He must also know that the Ammeister has been stripped of his powers and was thrown into prison.”

“Heaven help us! Peter Schwarber was the one who protected us. Although he charged a high price for his guardianship, he still kept us safe.”

“You must leave our city as soon as possible,” I urged. “There's no longer a place for Jews like us in Strasbourg.”

“But where can we go? We've lived here for more generations than I can remember. What will happen to us?” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and nodded to Shmuli, who was building a castle with wooden blocks in a corner of the room. “To him?”

I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “I wish I could tell you, Mama. All I know is that the sooner our people leave Strasbourg, the safer it'll be for them.”

The streets were already filled with frantic people as I made my way home. The news of the Great Pestilence was spreading quickly through our city. The roads were clogged with carts pulled by mules or their owners. They were filled to overflowing with the personal belongings of those trying to escape from Strasbourg. In some, children perched on wooden benches in the back. I walked along beside them.

Poor wretches! I said to myself. Where can they go? The plague will follow them everywhere. Nowhere is safe.

At the edge of town, the carts joined a longer procession heading down a dirt road. Sons and daughters supported aged parents. Fathers carried young children on their shoulders, while their older siblings ran around at the edge of the crowd. In one cart lay a pregnant woman, her hands clutching her swollen
belly. A life will enter this world as others depart it, I thought.

A little girl, abandoned by her parents, stood in the middle of the road, weeping. “Mama, Papa,” she wailed, “where are you?” Everyone simply walked around her.

Knights and their squires were leading horses burdened with armor and weaponry. Ladies in litters reclined with kerchiefs pressed to their noses as their attendants bumped them along. A holy man was crossing himself every few steps. The crowd was strangely quiet. No one turned around to look back at Strasbourg, their home. Everyone trudged on and on.

I retraced my steps to Wilhelm's workshop. When I drew close, I stopped at the back of a large crowd. Excited townspeople had surrounded a peddler and were eagerly buying his wares.

“What's he selling?” I asked the man next to me.

“Amulets made of dried toads.”

“My amulets will protect you against the Great Pestilence,” the peddler said. “I guarantee it.”

“I'll buy one,” said my neighbor, handing over his coins.

“I want one too!” announced a toothless old woman behind me.

Soon, the grinning peddler had filled up the money pouch hanging from his neck.

I passed on. A few steps away, a pilgrim was selling amulets made from the ground-up bones of a saint. I didn't even bother to stop.

When I reached Wilhelm's shop, I realized that I had forgotten to take my key with me. I knocked on the door and it flew open immediately. Elena threw herself into my arms.

“Thank God you're home!” she cried. “Papa is sick!”