Another Me (6 page)

I
clasped my hands together in my lap and willed my heart to slow as I gazed at Rabbi Weltner on the opposite side of the table. Elena was next to me and I could see by the grayness of her complexion that she shared my fears. The rabbi kept twirling his long white beard around his finger.

“Yes, yes,” he mumbled, as if talking to himself, “I have read of such a thing.”

He turned and took a roll of parchment off a shelf on the wall, unrolling it reverently and smoothing it on the table. I tried to make out the Hebrew words, but they were upside down. The rabbi ran his finger down the page until he reached the part he wanted. He began to read to himself with his lips moving.

Finally, he murmured, “Just as I thought!” He rolled up the parchment and put it back where he'd found it,
then leaned toward me, his face full of wonder. “You, Natan, are an
ibbur
.”

I must have looked bewildered, for the smile of satisfaction slowly left the old man's face.

“An
ibbur
,” he prompted. “This occurs when a righteous person's soul takes up residence in another's body. Your soul, Natan, has left your body and migrated into the body of Hans the draper.”

My mind went blank. I had to repeat his words to myself before they made any sense.

“With due respect, my rabbi, why would I do such a thing? Why would my soul enter Hans's body?”

“It happens when someone's time here on this earth ends before he can fulfill a promise or complete a task important to our people. Before you were killed, you were unable to warn the Ammeister that the Jews of Strasbourg did not poison the communal well to cause the Great Pestilence. It is Hashem's will that you save our people from the false accusations being made against them. Without doubt, the fate of the Jews in our city rests in your hands. You must convince Ammeister Schwarber and his council of the truth.”

“And if I'm successful?” I asked. “If I complete my task, what becomes of me then?”

The rabbi shifted uneasily in his seat. “Don't ask me such questions, Natan, I beg of you.”

“Please, Rabbi Weltner, tell me the whole truth. Will I have to live the rest of my life in the body of Hans?”

The rabbi's eyes filled with tears. It told me all I needed to know.

I took a deep breath, but I felt a new resolve to discharge my duty. “All right, I must make the Ammeister understand that my people pose no threat to Strasbourg. But how? Nobody will believe that I am Natan and not Hans. They'll say that I've been possessed by the devil, and that my words are the devil's words.”

“You must make them believe you. The situation for Jews in this city is growing worse by the hour. A few days ago, Ammeister Schwarber ordered the torture of several men in our community to prove to the Christian citizens that no righteous person would confess to spreading the Black Death, no matter the agony he suffered. Baruch Hashem, all the men maintained their innocence. But the Ammeister's actions prove how desperate he's becoming.”

He stopped talking for a moment and looked at Elena before continuing.

“I too only believed you because Elena vouched for your claims. Unfortunately, if it becomes known that you are not Hans but Natan, you could both be in grave danger. As you well know, the friendship between the two of you is against the law. Elena shouldn't help you again—at least not outside the confines of this room.”

Elena blushed deeply at the disapproval in his face.

“I told Natan that we should talk to my papa and tell him the truth,” Elena cried. “He'll speak to Ammeister Schwarber on our behalf.”

“I wouldn't advise it,” Rabbi Weltner said. “Even if your father accepts that Natan has somehow taken over Hans's body—which, as a Christian, he will not be disposed to do—he will be furious about your relationship with the son of Simon the Jew.”

“But my papa is a just and fair man who treats everyone equally. He doesn't hate anybody,” Elena countered.

“You're his daughter,” said the rabbi, smiling sadly. “Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. You wouldn't be doing your father a favor by involving him in Natan's predicament.”

Elena fell silent. Rabbi Weltner turned to me again.

“I have had dealings with the Ammeister in the past about the fines levied against us in return for his protection. I've always found him to be tolerant and a man of his word. I'll try to arrange an interview for you with him.”

“Thank you, Rabbi.” I bowed deeply.

“Natan,” he said, taking my hand in his and looking earnestly at my face, “you must understand that the future of our people rests upon your shoulders.”

I nodded. “I'll strive somehow to make the Ammeister listen to me, I promise. But first, I must go to my parents and convince them that I'm still among
the living. Can you come with me? They're more likely to listen to you.”

“I'll go with you to see your parents, Natan, but you must accept that you aren't among the living. Not really.” A deep sadness suffused Rabbi Weltner's face.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Elena's shoulders slump. I turned to her and said, “You must come too. You give me great courage.”

She smiled sweetly, pulled the hood of her cloak low over her face and followed us into the street.

Mama's eyes grew larger as Rabbi Weltner patiently explained that I had become an
ibbur
. My father's face turned scarlet, and I feared that he would suffer an attack of apoplexy.

“Do you take us for fools, Rabbi?” he roared. “Do you expect us to believe that our son's spirit took over this Christian?” He pointed an angry finger at me.

“I too find it most strange that Natan occupied the body of a person who isn't one of us. The only explanation I can offer is that Hans must number Jews among his ancestors, perhaps unbeknownst even to himself.”

“Please listen to our rabbi, Papa!” I pleaded.

“Don't call me ‘Papa'!” he raged.

I took a step toward him and lowered my voice. “It's me,” I began. “It's your son talking to you—the
son who learns with you every Shabbos, who folds the clothes you buy and loads them into your cart to sell. The son who found you broken and beaten in the alley. Who stayed by your bedside for three days with Mama, cooling your feverish brow and applying poultices to your wounded skin.”

My father turned his head away, but my mother drew closer. She ran her fingers over my face like a blind woman. I stood very still, afraid even to breathe.

“Could it possibly be?” she whispered. “Simon, what if Hans and the rabbi are telling the truth?” She grasped my father's hand and put it against my face. “Don't you understand what this means? Our Natan is still alive!”

But Papa tore his fingers away as if bitten by a rabid dog. “Don't be foolish, woman!” he cried.

“No! No!” the rabbi said. “You misunderstood my words, mistress. I never said that your son lives. It's only his soul that has moved into the body of another.”

I began to entreat them again. “Please, Mama. Please, Papa. You know your own son!”

“Listen, Hans, do you think my brain is addled?” my father growled. “You don't look like my son. You don't sound like my son. You're
not
my son! Stop this nonsense and let my poor Natan rest in peace.”

“But it's me, Papa,” I insisted. “It's another me!” But I knew my pleas were to no avail.

“Out with you, you spawn of the devil!” my father cried, pointing to the doorway. “You might have fooled the rabbi with your wily tricks, but you can't fool me. You have your nerve coming to my house with your lies and bringing this foolish young girl with you. Get out of here! All of you!”

Elena took my hand and squeezed my fingers.

“You father is so full of grief that he doesn't know what he is saying,” she murmured. “You must forgive him.”

“He's usually such a kind man,” the rabbi observed.

“Please, Simon,” Mama implored, her eyes brimming with tears. “They might be telling the truth! If they are, we still have our Natan with us!” She looked at me with sad eyes. “Or at least part of him.”

“Don't be foolish, woman!” my father snapped. “In another few hours our Natan will be in the ground for eternity, and we will never see him again.”

Pain and grief tore at my heart. I wanted to howl, to cry, to tear my hair, but I remained silent.

Papa sank down to the bench by the table and dropped his head into his arms. “Get out of my house,” he repeated in a muffled tone.

“You'd better do as he asks,” my mother said. “He is stubborn as a mule. He won't listen to you once he has made up his mind.”

“Do you believe me, Mama?”

She fixed her eyes on the rushes covering the floor and moved them about with the toe of her slipper to stall for time. She would not meet my gaze. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, before finally whispering, “I don't know what to believe.”

I couldn't help sighing—a sigh that shattered the silence more than any words possibly could. My feet felt fixed to the floor, but somehow I followed Elena and the rabbi out of the house.

Shmuli was out front, drawing circles in the dirt with a twig. I stooped down beside him and lifted his chin, then pressed a sweetmeat into his hand.

“Thank thee,” he mumbled, staring at me through red-rimmed eyes. “Who are you?”

The pain in my heart sealed my lips.

“Nobody you'd know,” I was finally able to mutter.

Elena and I stood concealed behind a large tree in the Jewish cemetery. Her warmth against my body comforted me. It was so cold that the tears running down her cheeks became shining crystals on her face. I wanted to cry too, but all my tears had dried up.

We peeked around the trunk of the tree as the plain wooden coffin holding my body was lowered into the grave. My heart was beating so fast that I could hardly
breathe. I was standing next to my beloved and being lowered into my grave at the same time. What would happen to me?

The thought of my body lying in the cold earth was too dreadful to contemplate. Every shovelful of dirt hitting the casket was like a fist to my belly. As I watched my father and our neighbors filling the grave with soil, I thought back to the question Rabbi Weltner had refused to answer. I ran my fingers over my squat frame. The soft creature I had become was all that was left. He had forever replaced the Natan I had once been. Again I thought of Hans. Where did he go? Would he ever come back? And if he did, what would happen to me?

My mother had to be held back by two strong men to prevent her from jumping into the grave after me, but finally it was over. My body had disappeared under a mound of cold earth. I rubbed my eyes with Hans's fingers and wiped the drip from my nose with the back of Hans's hand. Mama and Papa left the cemetery shrouded in grief. The other mourners followed behind. Finally, there were only the two of us left. We decided to go home. There was nothing else for us to do.

Elena once again visited me in my dreams that night. She was standing across from me, with only the mortal
hole and the mound of earth next to it separating us. She was weeping, unchecked tears rolling down her cheeks and her eyes fixed on my grave.