Read The Alchemist's Door Online
Authors: Lisa Goldstein
The Alchemist's Door (4 page)
No. She was fine; nothing had happened to her. Nor ever would, he thought fiercely.
“It seems so,” he said.
T
WO HUNDRED MILES TO THE WEST, IN PRAGUE. Rabbi Judah Loew thought he heard something. He had been having a late supper with his family; his wife Pearl was talking. But over her another, louder voice spoke a sentence in a foreign language, and he heard the word “Prague.”
WO HUNDRED MILES TO THE WEST, IN PRAGUE. Rabbi Judah Loew thought he heard something. He had been having a late supper with his family; his wife Pearl was talking. But over her another, louder voice spoke a sentence in a foreign language, and he heard the word “Prague.”
Another voice answered, this one female, and she also said something about Prague. And somehow Loew understood that these people would be traveling to his city, that he would meet them, that his fate would be entwined with theirs.
Something was about to happen, that much was certain. Those strange signs and portents in his study ⦠He looked at Pearl, wanting for perhaps the hundredth time to tell her what he suspected, and for the hundredth time being unable to.
The voices had fallen silent. “Judah?” Pearl said, looking concerned. She was a small woman, her figure rounded from childbearing. Over the years her hair had gone from a lustrous brown to iron-gray and had become coarser, almost wiry; she wore it, like all modest women, tucked up under a kerchief. Her eyes were a deep gray-greenâlike the sea, Loew had thought when he had first seen her. “Judah, did you hear anything I said?”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he said. He gazed out over the table, seeing the three of his six daughters who had come for supper, his son, their spouses and children. The small room
had not been enough to contain them all; some of the younger children sat at a makeshift table in the tiny hallway. The tables bowed under the weight of the dishes; the candles shone over the faces of his loved ones, their cheeks shiny with grease after the large meal. Up until two months ago he had thought himself the most fortunate man in the world. But God, apparently, wanted more from him.
had not been enough to contain them all; some of the younger children sat at a makeshift table in the tiny hallway. The tables bowed under the weight of the dishes; the candles shone over the faces of his loved ones, their cheeks shiny with grease after the large meal. Up until two months ago he had thought himself the most fortunate man in the world. But God, apparently, wanted more from him.
Two months ago he had looked at the four books on his desk and had noticed that they were all open to page thirty-six. Engrossed in his studies, he had shrugged this off as coincidence and pulled another book from his shelf. The book had opened, almost of its own volition, to page thirty-six.
Since then he saw the number everywhere he turned. He would be invited somewhere; the address would be thirty-six. He would buy a new book or some trinket for Pearl; it would cost thirty-six pennies, or he would get that amount in change.
In all his studies he had come across only one meaning for the number thirty-six. An old Jewish tradition said that there were thirty-six righteous men who upheld the world. According to the tradition if any of these men should die, or stray from the path of righteousness, the world would come to an end. They were called the
la'med vavniks,
from the Hebrew letters that corresponded to thirty-six.
la'med vavniks,
from the Hebrew letters that corresponded to thirty-six.
Was he one of these men? He had far too many faults, he knew that; his anger flared out too easily, he coveted the post of Chief Rabbi of Prague, he wanted to know and understand more than was perhaps lawful for a mere man. And how could he take on such a vast responsibility? How could he carry the weight of the world on his shoulders?
“Judah?” Pearl said again. “Are you listening to me? I said Izak wants to talk to you after supper.”
He forced his attention back to his family. The conversation turned to his audience with Emperor Rudolf, set for two days hence. Another heavy responsibility, Loew thought.
“Why do you suppose the emperor wants to see you?” his daughter Leah asked.
“I don't know,” Loew said. “It's said that Rudolf studies Kabbalah. I'm perfectly willing to discuss this with him, if that's what he wants. My worry is that he summoned me to talk about something else.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how precarious our situation here is,” Loew said. Leah shook her head, and Loew had to remind himself that his children had lived here in safety all their lives. “It was only forty years ago that King Ferdinand of Bohemia expelled all the Jews from Prague.”
“Did he?” one of the grandchildren asked. “But then why are we here?”
“The next emperor, Maximilian, reversed the order.”
“So everything worked out well, then,” the grandchild said, taking a last bite of chicken.
Loew smiled. “Yes, but you see, our lives depend on the whim of whoever is in power. And Rudolf, they say, is mad. I will have to be very careful.”
“Mad?” Leah looked at him with consternation. “What do you mean? Mad how?”
Now he had frightened the children, and some of the grandchildren as well. “Oh, nothing too strange,” he said, trying to sound unconcerned. “He collects thingsâit's said his castle is filled with paintings and statues and scientific instruments. And he has fits of temper, and banishes his counselors when they displease him.”
“That doesn't sound so terrible,” Leah said.
“No, as you say,” Loew said. “I'm certain I'll be fine.” But he caught Pearl's eye and saw that she shared his worry. One misstep on his part, and they might all be exiled again.
Someone knocked at the door. “That will be Izak,” Pearl said, rising. “Should I tell him you'll see him in your study?”
Loew nodded. He took one of the candles and headed back into the house. It was only as he opened the door to his study that he realized he hadn't asked Pearl which Izak had come to see him: there must be dozens in the quarter.
As he lit a lamp he noticed that the book on his desk was open to page thirty-six. He closed it angrily and sat behind the desk.
A young man came into the study. His face was thin and bony, with a protuberant chin, and he had curly, sandy-colored hair. Now Loew remembered him from the school; he had been a good student, though not a brilliant one. What was his father's name? Izak son of ⦠He shook his head at his absentmindedness.
To Loew's surprise a young beautiful woman stepped in after him. “This is Sarah,” Izak said. “We want to be married, and we want you to perform the ceremony.”
Now Loew remembered what he had forgotten earlier, and a great sadness came over him. “Sit down, please,” he told the couple. He looked from one of them to the other. “I'm afraid I cannot marry you.”
“Why not?” Izak said.
“Because you're illegitimate,” Loew said to him. “I'd give anything not to have to say this, but the law does not allow you to marry.”
“What! What do you mean?”
“Just as I say. The law forbids illegitimate children to marry.”
“Butâbut I want to get married. Sarah and I want to get married. She knows I'm illegitimate, and she doesn't mind.”
“Unless you can tell me that your mother married your fatherâ”
“Of course she didn't! He's probably that peddler who comes to the Quarter every few weeksâhe has a child in every town, or so I've heard.”
“Then I'm sorry,” Loew said.
Sarah looked stricken. Izak stood and began to pace in a tight circle.
“Well, the hell with you, then!” Izak said. He went to the door and opened it.
“Where are you going?” Loew asked.
“To find someone who will marry us.”
“Everyone you talk to will tell you the same thing.”
Izak left without saying anything more. Sarah hurried after him. The door closed behind them.
Loew sighed. One more problem, he thought, though not as serious as King Rudolf's summons. Serious to Izak, though. He stood and headed back to his family.
IZAK RAN OUT INTO THE NIGHT AIR, LEAVING SARAH BEHIND. His mind whirled. What would happen to him if he couldn't marry? A long sterile life and an unhappy one, with no wife, no children, no comforts â¦
He was so occupied with his thoughts that he nearly knocked someone down. He smelled a terrible odor, the stench of a person who hadn't washed in years, and he reached out and grabbed what felt like a bundle of rags. The rags shouted; he saw now that he had hold of an old woman. He steadied her and she grinned, showing three or four rotten teeth. He had never seen her in the Quarter before.
“Whoa!” she said. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Nowhere,” he said.
“Well, you haven't reached nowhere yet,” she said. “You're still somewhere.”
“Who are you?” he asked, studying her by the light of a nearby lamp. The colorful layers of clothing she wore hid her shape; she could have been fat or thin or anywhere in-between. Her face was narrow and almost bronze from the sun; she had dark brown eyes and a long pointed nose, almost a beak. Her
ears were pointed as well, and several thick wiry hairs grew from them. She seemed to have no lips. “You don't live here.”
ears were pointed as well, and several thick wiry hairs grew from them. She seemed to have no lips. “You don't live here.”
“Anyone can walk through the streets, can't they? Or run through them, in your case.”
She had stopped grinning; she looked almost concerned. “I just found out I can't get married,” he found himself saying. Well, why not? He would never see her again in his life. “Apparently bastards can't marry.”
“That's too bad.”
“I should have lied to him. I should have told him that horrible peddler married my mother. And why didn't he, anyway? Why should I be punished for something he did? I'll kill him if I ever get my hands on him, I swear I will.”
“Slow down. Lied to who?”
“Rabbi Loew.”
“Ah, Rabbi Loew. He's a great magician, isn't he?”
He stared at her. “Where did you hear that?”
“Everyone knows it. Magicians are flocking to Prague, now that Emperor Rudolf is here. There's another great one coming from England ⦠.”
He barely heard her. “Well, he can't help me,” he said bitterly.
“Don't give up hope just yet. You asked me who I amâmy name's Magdalena. What's yours?”
He had no intention of giving her his name, but to his surprise he said, “Izak. Izak, son of no one.”
“Good evening, Izak son of no one. Maybe we'll meet again.”
She moved away, melting into the shadows of the twisting streets, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
TWO DAYS LATER LOEW STOOD IN HIS TINY FRONT ROOM. Getting ready for his meeting with Rudolf. Half the men in town
seemed to be crowded in with him, all of them offering advice and clothing. He studied a coat from one, a pair of trousers from another; both were brown, though of different shades. Still, they would probably pass muster. They had to; they were the newest things anyone owned.
seemed to be crowded in with him, all of them offering advice and clothing. He studied a coat from one, a pair of trousers from another; both were brown, though of different shades. Still, they would probably pass muster. They had to; they were the newest things anyone owned.
The town barber forced him into a chair and began to trim his unruly beard. “Whatever you do, don't mention King Ferdinand,” someone behind him said.
“Why not?” This was another man, from another part of the room.
“He's the one who expelled the Jews. You don't want to remind him of that, don't want to have him start thinking that's a good idea.”
“But they're proud of their families, these kings and emperors.”
“That's true. You'll have to flatter him, flatter all of them. Tell him how magnificent he is. Magnificent, that's a good word. And his father and grandfather, and anyone else he's related to, no matter what they've done to us.”
“I hear he hates his brother Matthias.”
“Yes, that's true. Don't mention Matthias. Everyone else, thoughâeveryone else is magnificent.”
“Why does he hate his brother?”
“Who knows? Just don't mention him, that's all.”
“Do you say âYour Highness' or âYour Majesty'?”
“âYour Magnificenceâ'”
The barber had finished and was holding a mirror up to Loew's face. Loew studied himself, noting the graying brown hair and beard, the level brown eyes behind his spectacles. His face would match the clothing, at least, he thought wryly. Was he ready? Was this a face Rudolf would trust?
He was as ready as he ever would be. “Listen, people,” he said. “I need to be alone to think. Everyone outside. Now,” he added to a few people who seemed inclined to stay behind.
He put on the town's clothes and took one last look in the mirror the barber had left. There were heavy lines on his forehead, cut there like rivers scoured deeply into the earth. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and set out for the castle.
He returned five hours later, tired, footsore and humiliated. Some of the men of the town had gathered in front of his house, waiting to hear what had happened.
“How did it go?” one of them asked.
“It didn't,” Loew said.
“What do you mean?”
“As I said. He didn't see me.”
“Why not?”
“I don't know. I waited in a room for hours. There were other people there, all of them waiting for an audience, but no one was called. One of them told me it was the fifth time he had been summoned, but that so far he had never seen the emperor. Another said that if I wanted to see the emperor I should talk to the man who grooms his horses.”
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