'That's not relevant. Anymore.'
Daoud heard the rabbi sigh. The two men sat in silence for several moments, Roselli motionless, Buchwald swaying slightly, the tips of his woolly beard highlighted by starglow.
'Joseph,' he said finally, 'I have little to offer you. My job is bringing lapsed Jews back into the fold-that's what I'm set up for, not conversion. At best there'll be room and board for you-very basic room and board, a cell.'
'I'm used to that, Rabbi.'
Buchwald chuckled. 'Yes, I'm sure you are. But in addition to the isolation, there'll be hostility. And I won't be there to cushion you, even if I wanted to-which I don't. In fact, my explicit order will be that you stay away from the others.'
Roselli didn't respond.
The rabbi coughed. 'Even if my attitude were different, you'd be an outcast. No one will trust you.'
'That's understandable,' said Roselli. 'Given the realities of history.'
'Then there's the matter of your fallen status, Joseph. As a monk, you've acquired prestige, the image of a learned man. Among us, your learning will be worthless-worse than nothing. You'll start out at the lowest level. Kindergarten children will have things to teach you.'
'None of that is important, Rabbi. I know what I have to do. I felt it the moment I set foot on holy ground, feel more strongly about it than ever before. The core is Jewish. All the rest is extraneous.'
Buchwald snorted. 'Pretty talk-the core, faith, all that intellectual stuff. Now throw it all out-forget about it. You want to be a Jew. Concentrate on what you do. Action talks, Joseph. The rest is?' The rabbi threw up his hands.
'Tell me what to do and I'll do it.'
'Just like that, eh? Simon says.'
Roselli was silent.
'All right, all right,' said Rabbi Buchwald. 'You want to be a Jew, I'll give you a chance. But your sincerity will be tested at every step.' More chuckling. 'Compared to what I have in store for you, the monastery will seem like a vacation.'
'I'm ready.'
'Or think you are.' The rabbi stood. Roselli did likewise.
'One more thing,' said the monk.
'What is it?'
'I've been questioned about the Butcher murders. The first girl who was killed lived at Saint Saviour's for a while. I'm the one who found her wandering, tired and hungry, near the monastery and persuaded Father Bernardo to take her in. A police inspector interrogated me about it, then came around after the second murder to talk again. I can't be sure, but he may consider me a suspect.'
'Why would that be, Joseph?'
'I honestly don't know. I get nervous talking to the police -I guess it comes from the old protest march days. I was arrested a couple of times. The police were nastier than they had to be. I don't like them; it probably shows.'
'Confession is for Catholics,' said Buchwald. 'Why are you telling me about this?'
'I didn't want you, or the yeshiva, to be embarrassed if they come looking for me again.'
'Have you done anything that would embarrass us?'
'God forbid,' said Roselli, voice cracking. 'Taking her in is the extent of my involvement.'
'Then don't worry about it,' said the rabbi. 'Come, it's late. I have things to do yet.'
He began walking. Roselli followed. They passed meters from Daoud's tree. He held his breath until they neared the highway, then got up and followed.
'When will you be moving in?' asked Buchwald.
'I thought Monday-that would give me enough time to tie up loose ends.'
'Tie all you want. Just let me know in time to prepare my boys for our new student.'
'I will, Rabbi.'
They climbed to the edge of the highway, stepped over the ridge, and waited as a solitary delivery truck roared by.
Daoud, crouching nearby, could see their lips moving, but the truck blocked out any sound. They crossed the highway and began the gentle climb up Mount Zion.
Daoud followed at a safe pace, straining his ears.
'I've had nightmares about Fatma-the first victim,' Roselli was saying. 'Wondering if there's something I could have done to save her.'
Rabbi Buchwald put his hand on the monk's shoulder and patted it. 'You have excellent capacity for suffering, Yosef Roselli. We may make a Jew of you yet.'
Daoud trailed them to the door of the yeshiva, where Roselli thanked the rabbi and headed back north, alone. A quick-change under the big tree preceded his reemergence as a monk.
