“Benjamin, you are absolutely sure that my father knew that my mother and Midnight had … had been together?”
“Yes. It made him insane with anger and grief, and he fell into evil. Later, as these letters indicate, he was consumed by regret. John, your father could not live with what he had done. He was utterly lost, dear boy.”
Benjamin looked wholly beaten. I poured some wine into his empty teacup. I swigged mine directly from the bottle, fully intending to get drunk.
“Your father loved no one so much as you,” he said. “I think I ought to remind you of that.”
I laughed bitterly. “That means nothing when compared to such a betrayal.”
“You are wrong, John. You must remember that he was devoted to you.”
“Not so devoted as to prevent his selling Midnight.”
“That was his fatal error. But it did not prevent his wishing the best for you.”
I laughed again and took another long swig. “When exactly was it that he confided in you?”
“Just before he was killed.”
“He gave you the letters then?”
“Yes, just as he gave you his pipe and his watch. It is what men do before they end their own lives. They make gifts of what they possess.”
“What are you saying?” I was suddenly trembling with rage again.
“John, your father … Lost men sometimes seek out the Angel of Death. He hoped, I think, that sacrificing himself would compensate for what he had done. And so he remained behind and fought in a hopeless battle. That, dear boy, is why he gave you his things.”
This made unbearable sense. I recalled the moral of the fable “Mouse, Frog, and Eagle,” the tale I had read in Senhor David’s bookshop when I was seven:
After I’d taken several more healthy gulps of wine, Benjamin slapped my hand playfully and took the bottle from me, placing it on the mantelpiece. Seeing nothing but fond affection for me in him, I knew then that he had intended all along to tell me these things tonight, as he might need to stay far from Porto for a long time. He had feigned his accidental revelation on hearing that Violeta was now living in New York, then acted his befuddlement. He may even have regarded her being in America as a sign.
I didn’t begrudge him his pretense. I was grateful that he told me in any way he could. “Thank you,” I said.
“For what?”
“For everything. You have shown nothing but kindness to me these past years.”
“I am the one to give thanks.” He beckoned me to sit by him. It was then that he told me how Midnight had helped him rid the world of Lourenco Reis, the hateful preacher. My suspicions that Benjamin was responsible for the murder were finally confirmed, though he would give me no details. He didn’t want me to ever be able to reveal the truth if I were taken prisoner by the Church or the Crown.
Thinking of both this secret and the ones related to my family, I said, “You wanted to tell me about my father and mother for many years, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I was stronger when I was younger and could carry these secrets alone. Now I am old, dear boy. I needed to rid myself of them to be able to move forward and help Cyrus. But listen, John, secrets are not like mortal men — they can remain dangerous twenty, fifty, even a hundred years after they are conceived. So be careful. And forgive me.”
“I do, Benjamin. You can be sure of it. And I shall be careful. If nothing else, I have learned that these past years. You know, Father could have journeyed to the United States to find Midnight. He might have tried, at least.”
“He was given to believe it was hopeless.”
“And what do you believe?”
His shoulders sagged. “It’s been so many years — nearly two decades.”
“Midnight could not have been more than thirty or thirty-five when I knew him. He would be in his late forties or early fifties if alive.” I tried in vain to picture him with gray hair. “Do you remember when he saved me from Hyena?”
“I know what you are thinking, dear boy —
I spoke then of the dream I’d had in which I found myself reduced to a flame and then nothingness. I was now of the opinion that it was a reminder of how lost I’d become since Midnight’s death.
Benjamin smiled. “On the contrary, John, unless I am greatly mistaken, you can at this very moment see your road ahead clearly. For the great mystery of your dream is this: You yourself will light the way. The heart of the Lord, which is your own, is where the very last flame resides, and it will illuminate your path.”
His encouragement only served to irritate me, since I did not wish to talk in metaphors.
“The fall and rise of the sun, the phases of the moon — these are events that also occur inside ourselves,” he continued.
I sighed impatiently.
“No, you must listen to this, John — it’s important. The rise of the sun occurs inside each of us, or else we could not even dream of it. This, as I have told you many times, is the essential reciprocity of movement that marks the boundary between each person and the world. All that you do in your life affects all that is done here on earth and in all the other realms. This is one of the greatest mysteries of all. No, I cannot tell you whether you ought to go, but I will tell you this: If you succeed in freeing Midnight, then you will not only set an entire universe free, as the Torah tells us, but in so doing you will also be helping to repair all that has been broken since the very beginning of time.”
“Benjamin, even if I find him, I might not be able to buy him back.”
The apothecary laughed. “Tell me where in the Torah it says that Moses asked permission of Pharaoh before leading the Hebrews from slavery! Robbery, John, may be the holiest of acts in certain circumstances.”
“If only Daniel were here to help me.”
“Daniel? Have you not heard a single word I’ve said? Though he is long dead, he lives inside you, dear boy. You will summon him to the fore when he is needed. Of that I am certain.”
“And my daughters — what shall I do with them in my absence?”
“Leave them with your mother and your aunt Fiona. They will flourish together. And they will love you all the more for trusting them.”
I shook my head, for I considered myself unequal to the task. I was afraid that the girls would resent my absence. They were too young to be without at least one of their parents.
“John,” he said, “it is only natural that you are unsure. You have just discovered these things now. You will go to England and speak with your mother. Only then will you decide. Do you remember what Midnight always said upon parting?”
“Go slow.”
“Precisely. Scorpions may be hiding under every rock. There is no crime in waiting a few days to decide how you will proceed.”
Quoting a proverb of Solomon, I said, “
“Ah,” he laughed. “But that’s where you have an advantage being a Jew. You shall bring bread with you on board your ship and make all the world into your
“That’s absurd, Benjamin.”
“Indeed so. But a man who wishes to save a world makes recourse to absurd tricks.”
“There may not be time to wait. What if Midnight is in danger?”
Benjamin’s countenance turned grave. “Make no mistake, if Midnight is alive, then he is most definitely in danger. That is the nature of slavery. I shall tell you another thing: As long as one man or woman remains a slave, then the Messiah will not come. For we shall make our own paradise or not have it at all.”
Benjamin must have guessed that I would want to go to America after reading the letters, for he now took out of his cloak pocket the child’s rattle that Midnight had used to fight Hyena. Father had apparently saved it and
