Street. Back in the van, they drove up Jerusalem Street, past the upper end of the citadel park and parked as close as they could to the guest house. They hurried down a narrow path of the Artists’ Colony and arrived at a wrought iron gate.
They passed the vine-covered stone courtyard of the Bar-El guesthouse and into the hundred and fifty years-old restored house, where they spoke to the owner, who confirmed that there had been a last-minute cancellation for a suite, which had a view of Mount Meron. It would cost $160 a night. Mina winced, so the lady said she could reduce the price if they stayed more than one night. Jack jumped in and said they were staying at least two nights and would take the suite.
She reminded them that it was almost time to light the Chanukah candles. They could of course go to any of the many synagogues of the old town for the lighting, but they would be welcome to join the others here and take care of their luggage later on. Jack and Mina followed her into the darkened dining area. The atmosphere was heavy with mystery. Jack turned to Mina and asked her in a whisper what they were all waiting for.
‘For sunset. When the lights will be lit,’ she whispered.
Mina picked up a
Everyone smiled as the young man sang the blessings in a beautiful baritone voice and when he was finished, they all joined in singing songs, accompanied by a group of klezmer musicians, Eastern European Jewish clarinet players who then performed variations on the traditional songs. Jack and Mina were moved by the atmosphere, and for a while, were able to forget the ordeal of the past few days and the reasons that had brought them to this enigmatic city.
After the meal, Jack and Mina picked up their bags from the van and walked back to the guest house climbing the few steps up to their suite. It was a delightful room, with stone walls, tile floors with Moroccan motifs and the ubiquitous deep blue decorations. While Mina went to the bathroom and ran herself a bath, Jack retrieved his laptop and set up an internet connection. He started reading about the Ari synagogue. The more he read, the more he felt utterly out of his depth. He left one of the pages on the browser for Mina to read later then shrugged off his coat and snowy shoes and stretched out on the bed. He was exhausted.
When Mina came back into the room she found Jack fast asleep. She gazed at her handsome travel companion and wondered how he would react if he woke up and found her naked by his side. Tempted as she was to find out, she knew there was work to be done. She picked up the stone tablet from her bag and worked on it for some time, taking a few notes. She noticed the open laptop on the desk and had a look at what Jack had been up to. She found the page open on the Ari Sephardi synagogue. It dated back to the 16th century and had been named after Rabbi Isaac Luria, also known as the ‘Ari’ or ‘the Lion’ in Hebrew. His name was actually an acronym for Adoneinu Rabbeinu Isaac, one of the greatest kabbalists of all times. He’d arrived in Safed in 1570 and died there in 1572. He was buried west of the city.
The Ari had prayed in this synagogue and was said to have been visited by the Prophet Elijah in a small recess at the back of the building. According to tradition, the two of them discussed the mysteries of the Torah. Today, the tiny room is kept as a shrine, where people light candles during the day. The synagogue was destroyed in an earthquake in 1837, but was rebuilt twenty years later. Mina wondered how much of the Ari’s sacred room had remained intact over the years.
Mina’s attention drifted as she marvelled at the centuries of mysteries surrounding this city. What amazing luck that this Eli they were going to meet was ‘obsessed’ with Tudela. He’d probably have documents to show them, maybe even a small archive. She closed the laptop, picked up a large woollen blanket, and covered Jack with it. She then walked to the other room and opened her suitcase. She pulled out some of the clothes Liat had bought her in Tel Aviv, caressed the fabric and sighed, thinking about her friend. At least she was alive. Mina hoped one day Liat would forgive her for what she had unwittingly put her through. She sat down on the bed as she felt tears welling in her eyes. Pulling herself together, she undressed and slipped under the covers, where she fell asleep almost instantly.
Chapter 18
December 10th, 2004
Jack woke at dawn, still fully clothed. His first thought was for Mina and her safety, so he dashed to the other room and peered through the doorway to be met with a lovely morning sight. Mina’s jet-black hair was strewn about her face as she breathed slowly, deep in sleep. He stared at her for a while and then crossed to the windows and gazed out at Mount Meron. Reassured, he went back to his own room, found a spot in a pool of morning sun, sat down and started stretching.
Mina woke up when she heard Jack taking a shower. She walked up to the bathroom, and took a guilty peep through the open door. Her heart was beating as fast as hell, as she savoured Jack’s toned body. She had already noticed how fit he was back in Mosul but now she noticed the many battle scars in his back. God only knew the things he had done in his life. She probably didn’t want to know. If he’d chosen to leave the army, why should she inquire?
‘Morning Jack… do you always leave the bathroom door open?’ He turned the shower off, and picked up a towel to wrap around his waist.
‘Yes. An old habit; you never know who’s about to come in while you are in a vulnerable position.’
He raised an eyebrow at her. She blushed and wondered if he had known she was there all along.
‘Let’s have breakfast and then go to the Ari synagogue,’ he said.
‘OK. I’ll be ready in a second,’ she replied.
Natasha had already arrived at the Merkazi Central Hotel. She approached the front desk and said that her name was Mina Osman and there was a package waiting for her. The receptionist looked deeply embarrassed and told her that a man had already picked it up. There was nothing here. Natasha was furious. She asked him to check again. He called his colleague at home, who confirmed that a man in his mid-thirties had picked up the package and cancelled Miss Osman’s stay. Natasha stormed out of the hotel and walked back to the car, where three men were patiently waiting for her. She picked up her phone.
‘Sir?’
‘Yes Natasha?’
‘I don’t know how to say this. Someone has already picked up the package. According to the concierge, it was collected yesterday afternoon. The man also cancelled her room reservation.’
‘Damn it! She tricked us. She’d planned for this person to pick up the tablet all along.’
‘Could she still be alive, Sir?’
‘She’s not that resourceful, Natasha. Then again, leave a few men there for a day or two. Give them the girl’s description and tell them to check out the place. Maybe they’ll find out more about that man who picked up the parcel.’
‘Should I stick around?’
‘No, take the first flight back. The trail’s cold.’
