CHAPTER 12

1948, ISRAEL

Nadir entered the house. Oh Allah, guide my steps. Bless my deception.

The young couple chatted joyfully with the people who entered before him. The smells of a plethora of food greeted his nostrils, and he breathed in. Not only do I get the relic but delicious food as well. I am favored already.

It was his third visit. He was pleased. They liked him. He must exercise caution for he didn’t want them to like him so much they remembered him. The people were nice, for Jews. The food was marvelous. He would try to teach Bashra a few of the recipes.

The stone walls had paintings on them reflecting the landscapes of Israel, and a braided rug graced the floor. Mismatched chairs sat about the room. Wonderful smells wafted in from the kitchen. The house was small yet spacious. And Samuel and Sophie Orbin made all feel welcome.

Sophie approached Nadir. “Oh, hello. Benjamin, is it? Forgive me, I try to remember everyone’s names, but I do get a few mixed up.”

“That is correct. You remember very nicely.” Nadir was pleased that he had given a Jewish sounding name far from his. No way to trace him.

“Oh my, this is it.” A man in an officer’s uniform stood in the doorway staring at the mantel where the bottle was displayed. He walked directly to it. “Oh my.” He turned, looking at Sophie and Nadir. “May I touch it?”

“Certainly.” Sophie walked over. “I am Sophie Orbin. My husband Samuel and I, with my father, brought the tassel back to Israel. Please pick it up, sir.”

The officer turned back and gingerly picked it up. “Oh, blessed be God. This is so wonderful to hold. So many years, so many generations, so many blessings.”

He carefully set it back on the mantel after kissing the bottle. Then he seemed to wake up. “Oh, forgive me. I have forgotten my manners. Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be here. I am Rupert Winkelman. I am in the lineage of Christopher Columbus, so I must be related to you, Mrs. Orbin.”

Samuel entered the small living room. “Sir, I am Samuel Orbin. I’m delighted to meet a family member. We carry a wonderful heritage. Oh, I see you have brought Benjamin with you.”

“Oh no, we came separately, but I’m pleased to meet you.” Mr. Winkelman held out his hand to shake Nadir’s hand. “Benjamin, I am from the United States. Where are you from?”

Nadir backed up. This was a little too close, too personal. He wanted to only blend in, not stand out. These Americans, so direct, so rude. “I have recently returned to Eretz-Israel. It is a blessing of God, to be here, and see the bottle.”

Nadir walked quickly over to the bottle, to avoid more conversation and possible exposure. The man and the couple talked animatedly. They were all Americans, Jews, and related. Nadir wanted to spit. He knew he needed to get the relic soon. He wanted to get it tonight. Would it be possible?

More people arrived, and Nadir was able to blend in more. He managed to avoid any more conversation with the American officer. Nadir heard him say he served in the American Air Force and had been stationed in Italy. He was the center of attention, which was just fine with Nadir. However, would this man be able to solve the mystery of the missing bottle if he absconded with it tonight?

Nadir put off his plans when the food was served. He bowed his head and mumbled so anyone standing near him would think he was doing the shema with them. I must strengthen myself for the task. Bashra is a beautiful wife, but her cooking . . . well, it could be better. I will enjoy this food.

All the people helped clean up. Nadir considered it below him. This was woman’s work, but he would follow. Let them all think he was a Jew. Just the thought made him want to spit. But, no, he was chosen by Allah and sent by the Mahdi. He would complete his mission, and he and Bashra would be honored for years to come.

He looked up. The American officer was leaving. He went to the window to be sure. Indeed, he climbed into a vehicle and drove away. Would he come back? Was this the time?

“Benjamin.” There was a tap on his shoulder. He jumped.

“Oh, Benjamin, I am so sorry.” Sophie backed up. “I didn’t mean to startle you. We are going outside for a time of prayer and thanksgiving to God. Tomorrow is Passover and we are so excited. Samuel built a fire in back. Please join us.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Orbin. I would be honored to do that.” Nadir followed her out and considered his options. I am blessed. This will be easy. I will remain in the back while they bow their heads and close their eyes, and I will slip back in the house when it is dark. They will not notice. And because we are going out before it is very dark, they will not have light on in the house. Allah has blessed my work.

Nadir sat on the ground near the back. He moved a couple times, so he wouldn’t be noticed as leaving. The people sang songs that thanked their God. They were quite nice songs. We should consider songs to bless Allah. I think that would be a good thing.

Then the Jews prayed. That was not nice. They prayed protection from the Arabs, from the Mahdi. They prayed that they would increase. It was almost more than Nadir could take. He had never been exposed to such prayers before. Nausea churned in his stomach. He should leave before he gave himself away. He looked around. Everyone had their heads bowed and eyes closed as they mumbled along with the prayer being offered at the time.

Nadir put his feet underneath him, positioning himself into a crouch. He saw no one looking his way so he hurried toward a bush near the privy. He waited a few minutes and then realized it was dark enough that he could not even detect the forms of the people at the outside of the circle. Only those very close to the fire were visible.

He glanced at the house. It was dark, except for a dim light in the kitchen area. Nadir almost laughed aloud. He walked carefully around the house to the door into the living room where the bottle stood.

He walked in. No one was there. Only the bottle, the relic of antiquity, the bottle with protection properties. He grabbed it and placed it in an inner pocket and quickly removed himself from the premises.

It was all he could do not to run. He walked briskly. He had a three mile walk home in the dark. He could do it. It would be all right.

Headlights. A car coming his way. He lay down next to the road and rolled toward a ditch. The car drove by.

Nadir breathed. It continued past the Orbin home. Yes. It will not be returning. Bless Allah they were not picking up Jewish people from the home. Nadir picked himself up and ran until he could run no longer. Walking the rest of the way home with the light of a full moon, he considered singing a song of praise to Allah.

Undetected he entered his home and sat down on the rickety chair and laughed. Bashra snored lightly in the bedroom. Soon they would have a fine home with rugs and pillows, even couches. Bashra could take cooking lessons and feed him like a king. Better yet, they would hire a cook, and they would take walks and go horseback riding on their own beautiful stallions. He had the bottle, and soon he would place it in the hands of the Mahdi. What a glorious day that would be. He, Nadir, would have money and honor.

Nadir jolted awake. The relic! Where was it? Had he forgotten to go to the Orbins’? Then he saw the bottle in his hand. He laughed out loud. Bashra snored and turned over in the bed in the other room. Nadir sighed as he looked at the bottle. What wealth would soon be theirs! He stood and walked to the window, wondering if he could go back to sleep.

The sky was not right. He distinctly remembered a full moon as he walked and ran home with the relic. But now the moon was half gone, and the missing part was red. It wasn’t normal. A heavy foreboding came over him and he stood watching the red completely engulf the moon over the next hour. He shook and sat down again, hoping that all would still be well.

He slept again and dreamed of great honor bestowed by the Mahdi. He awoke once more and looked out the window. The moon was normal again. Nadir relaxed and fell asleep once more.

Bashra found him asleep on the chair clutching the bottle with the tassel.

“Set it down, dear husband, and let me spit on it. Is this what you have risked our lives for?”

Nadir opened his eyes. Bashra stood with her hands on her hips and derision on her lips. A slow grin crossed his face. “Nay, nay, Little Mare, this is our path to wealth and fame.” He stood and embraced his wife. Picking her up and swinging her around, he whispered, “Oh wife, we are so blessed. We will have everything we want and need. You need to rejoice.”

“We shall see. Shall I prepare you a meal?”

“First I must hide this magic relic according to the Mahdi’s instructions. Then I will inform our great leader of my blessed success to obtain it.”

He hid the bottle deep within the narrow cave in the hiding place that he and Bashra thought of as their own. Nadir arrived at the Mahdi’s palace with great anticipation and attempted great humility when given audience. “Oh, great Mahdi, Allah has blessed me, and I have taken the relic bottle from the terrible Jews. It now belongs to you and will add to your already magnificent powers. I thank you for letting me be of such great service to you.”

“Yes, yes, where have you hidden it?” Mahdi did not look up from writing at his ornate wooden desk, piled with papers, books, and foods.

Nadir bowed. “It’s in a favorite hiding place about a mile from here, a wonderful unnoticed place. There is an outcropping of rocks enclosing a narrow cave. Back in the cave there is a small cavern covered by a rock or two. The bottle sits there wrapped in a cloth to protect it from breaking.”

“Thank you . . . your name again, young man?”

Nadir’s shoulder slumped. He remembers not my name? “Nadir Mehmet, sir.”

“Thank you, Nadir. That is all.”

Nadir walked home with his head hung low. Perhaps I should move it. Perhaps I should take it and run. I could probably sell it. Does he not know what great risk I suffered? Does he not know what great powers it has? He will still honor me, I know.

Bashra stood at the window as he walked toward the house. As he came through the door. Bashra spat. “He did not care? Is that right?”

“No, no, he was very excited.”

“You lie. I know you better than that. I have prepared food. Sit and eat. I must go to market.”

Nadir sat and looked at the food. His appetite was gone. But then, Bashra’s cooking did not ever help his appetite or attitude.

Nadir looked up. He had fallen asleep again. Bashra stood before him. “I have praised you in the market place, my dear husband.”

Nadir jumped up, his eyes big. “What do you mean?” His voice was too loud.

Bashra spat. “You yell? I have honored you where the Mahdi did not. I have told how you were given great assignment with great success in stealing a relic from the Jews, giving you great approval from Allah, and hopefully great wealth from the Mahdi.”

“We must run. Now, Bashra. We must leave.” He wanted to strike her but could not bring himself to do such things. “This was to be a great secret. They will come after us.”

In tears, Nadir’s wife began to gather their meager belongings. Nadir paced back and forth in their little house trying to formulate a getaway plan. The hardest part was letting go of his earlier certainty of great wealth. Now he prayed for their lives to be spared.

“Nadir, look. A car from the Mahdi. Perhaps they come to honor you?”

“I fear they will no longer honor me, my Little Mare. Hurry, you go hide. I must go with them. Perhaps my fears are unnecessary. You should hide until I return. I love you, sweet Bashra.”

Bashra’s tears increased and she clung to him. “Nadir, I did not mean to dishonor you. I . . . ”

“You must go quickly, Bashra. I will find you. Do not fear.”

Nadir shook all the way to the palace. The driver and the bodyguard said not a word. Upon arriving, he was not ushered into the Mahdi’s chambers. Instead they took him down stairs. He felt he was descending into water and the waves were washing over him. He gasped for breath. The cold embraced him within and without. Not a word was said. The guards simply placed him in a cell and left.

That morning he’d been confident of great reward, convinced he’d be the recipient of great treasures he could lavish upon his wife, the one person he loved more than himself. Now cold and hungry, he sat in a dungeon, wondering where his wife was and if she would survive.

The questions were short-lived. He heard the door clanking and familiar cries. Slaps and screams came closer and closer.

The guard who shoved Bashra in with Nadir, laughed. “Stupid man. Hide the relic and tell his wife to hide there as well.”

Nadir’s face fell into his hands. He looked up at his wife. Her face was tear-stained and red with welts from being slapped. He stood and embraced her.

“I did not know, Nadir. I did not know. They knew our hiding place.”

Nadir began to sob. “I did not think I would need a hiding place anymore. I was so sure we’d be honored and rewarded. And I did not think that you would go there.” He looked sadly at his wife. “I know. I should have thought of that. Perhaps there will be mercy given.”

“The Mahdi is not known for mercy, dear husband.”

The two sat, hungry and slumped over, for three days. The smell was worse than they thought possible and fear ate at their every fiber.

The clang of guards entering the dungeon sent Bashra into screams and writhing on the floor. Nadir could only shake his head and acknowledge that his wife’s boasting had eclipsed their lives. He would not hate her for he truly loved his Little Mare.

The sunlight burned his eyes as they were dragged into the courtyard.

“You are being shot for deceiving the Mahdi.”

“That cannot be.” Nadir turned to the guard. He was met with a whip across the face. Nadir pulled himself up from the ground trying to resist the pain that seared his face. “Are we not being punished for bragging about stealing the bottle from the Jews?”

Bashra, even in her fear and depleted energy, managed to spit when her husband mentioned the Jews.

The guard sneered. “The bottle was not there. After they deposited you in the dungeon, they searched your home for the relic and then checked the site you named a second time. Your wife, only, was found. And she is not what the Mahdi was interested in.”

“No, no, I told him exactly where to look. It must still be there. I gave him direct instructions.”

“The Mahdi does not like lies.”

Gunshots echoed.

A young boy skipped into a small house. “Look, Father, I have found buried treasure.” He extended his hand.

“Hmmm, what have you found? A bottle? You think it is treasure?”

“I saw a man go into a cave where we like to play. After he left, I went in there and found another tiny cave I had not seen before and the bottle was in there.”

“Avram, do you think it is anything? Son, did the man put it there, or was it already there?”

“I do not know, Mama, but it looks important. It looks like the strings at the bottom of the rabbi’s shawls.”

Avram’s wife examined the bottle. “Why it does, and it looks well sealed. Should we give it to the Jews down the street?”

Avram rose from his seat. “Let us wait. Perhaps we will hear something in the marketplace. Perhaps we could sell it if, indeed, it has value.”

“Can I play with it, Father? Can I take it apart?”

“No, son, I think we need to hide it for now and not say anything. Let us only listen. Do you understand, son? We don’t want there to be trouble because of this.”

The boy wrinkled his nose and lips. “Maybe I can find more treasure in that cave.”

“No.” His mother placed her hands on his shoulder. “Stay away from there for a few weeks.”

The boy blew out air. “I have other places to play. Maybe I can find something that is of value somewhere else.” He turned and ran out of the house to play.