Alex Mitchell - The 13th Tablet

‘We should be getting quite close to Safed now,’ Jack said eventually. ‘I hope the sky will clear. I’ve visited the north a few years ago with a friend. I’m sure that from the top of this hill you can see the Golan Heights to the East and Mount Hermon to the North — you know people ski there, but it would probably be cheaper for Israelis to fly to Switzerland.’

‘I didn’t know about Mount Hermon. Around here, what you can see for sure is Mount Meron, the burial place of Shimon Bar Yochai, the author of the Zohar , the mystical book of the Jews.’

‘The what? I thought their sacred book was the Bible? The Torah?’

‘The Zohar is a mystical book and central to the study of Kabbalah. It is said that people who aren’t trained long enough in the study of the Torah and try to read and understand the Zohar , will lose their mind in the process. It’s a dangerous book.’

‘Come on, Mina. We’re grown ups. That’s a bedtime story.’

‘I’m not joking. This is what I’ve read. I don’t know much about Kabbalah but it seems that this saintly man, Bar Yochai, was fleeing the Romans in the 1st century C.E. He hid himself in a cave. He eventually emerged enlightened and wrote this magical book. Well, that’s the story anyway. Some scholars think Bar Yochai was a bit like Homer with the Iliad and the Odyssey ; you know, a sort of mythical writer ascribed to a book that is actually multi-layered and written over a long period of time by many authors.’

‘I’m sorry, I’ve heard this magical stuff all over the planet; India, South America and even back home with the Mormons and their golden plates. I simply don’t buy it.’

‘Well, you’d better buy it fast because we’re almost in Safed, kingdom of Kabbalah. And it isn’t popstar Kabbalah either. It’s the real deal.’

After twenty more minutes of driving, they finally saw Safed’s hill. As they approached, they were gradually entranced by the calm atmosphere of this ‘magic’ mountain. How better to describe a place which rises almost 3,000 feet above sea level, surrounded by forests and the purest of air, so conducive to meditation and clear thinking? By this time, the entire city was covered in a white mantle of snow. Mina thought of the kabbalists’ belief that the Schechina or the Manifest Presence of God rested above the city. With so little water in the Promised Land, this vision of purity must have felt to some like a divine presence. After all, did not certain sages believe that the Messiah would appear first in Safed before travelling to Jerusalem?

December 9th, 2004. Safed

While Mina waited in the van on Jerusalem Street, Jack picked up the stone tablet from the Merkazi Central Hotel and cancelled Mina’s reservation. He walked back to the van with the package, which Mina tore open. She breathed a long sigh of relief when she found the stone tablet, unscathed. Jack drove them through the Old Town. Mina expressed surprise at the large number of art galleries they were passing on the way and Jack explained that Safed had been at the forefront of contemporary Israeli and Jewish art for many years. The Old Town was not only home to some of the oldest of the seventy synagogues scattered around Safed but it was also famous for its so-called Artist’s Colony. New galleries appeared like mushrooms throughout the cobbled streets. Jack parked the van outside a small internet cafe.

As they walked into the cafe, Mina to Jack, ‘I remember reading about a nice guest house not too far from here, Bar-El. We could stay there.’

‘Frankly, I think we should get the hell out of here.’

‘Come on Jack. I have nothing to fear with you by my side.’

‘Mina, we’ve got the tablet, we’re safe. But Wheatley will find out today or tomorrow that you’re still alive and that you have the tablet. We should be on the other side of the planet right now.’

‘Give me two days to complete my research on Safed and then we can leave. I haven’t been through hell and back to return home empty-handed.’

‘I don’t like this. But if you must, here are my conditions: no sightseeing and we need to be as discreet as possible.’ Mina batted her eyelashes in agreement and smiled sweetly at him.

‘Women! I don’t know why I fall for this.’

‘You can’t help it. And anyway, there is no reason why Oberon would stick around if the tablet isn’t here any more.’

‘And you do still have his money…’ They both burst out laughing.

Jack felt as if he were looking at Mina for the first time. They were slowly warming up, drinking green tea in the brightly decorated internet cafe. Mina seemed full of life now and she had some of the sparkle back in her eyes. Jack could not deny it; she was stunningly beautiful, even with her wounded lip and bruised cheek. For a moment he wondered if, back in Iraq, he had ever believed she was a national threat, or if the real reason he’d followed her to Israel was simply because she was the hottest and most intriguing woman he’d met in a long time.

‘Jack, we’ve chosen the worst time of the year to come to Safed.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Well, for one thing it’s the Chanukah holiday and tomorrow evening is Shabbat. I hope all the guest houses won’t be booked up. Maybe we should leave Safed and return in a few days?’

‘No. Let’s manage with the time we have.’

‘OK. One more thing — I think you and I should pretend to be Jewish. I’m worried people might not answer my questions openly if they realise I’m half-Iraqi.’

‘I don’t think we’ll fool anyone, Mina.’

‘You’d be amazed how welcoming orthodox Jews are, especially during festivals. They’re always trying to bring their non-religious brethren into the fold. They call it doing a mitzvah , a good deed. Listen, just go with the flow, be yourself and don’t engage too much with anyone. I’ll do the talking. I’ll be Miriam and you… Josh, both from New York.’

‘Are you sure you’re not a spy? You’re devious. I’m in, Miriam.’

They were silent for a time, then Jack said:

‘Mina? May I ask you a personal question?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your father is Muslim and your mother’s Christian. Right?’

‘Not much of question, but yes.’

‘So how come you know so damn much about Jewish customs and culture?’

Mina looked a little embarrassed. She took a deep breath and said:

‘You’ve obviously never lived in New York for a long period of time. There are so many Jewish communities there.’

‘So? One of my best friends lives near Chinatown in San Francisco, it doesn’t make him almost Chinese.’

‘OK. My ex-boyfriend is Jewish. His family in New York practically adopted me for a time. I became fascinated by Jewish culture.’

‘Right… sorry I brought it up.’

Now Jack felt embarrassed.

‘It’s fine, really. I broke up with him a while ago.’

She noticed Jack’s smile from the corner of her eye and continued, ‘besides, I’ve been researching the life and works of Benjamin of Tudela for years for my PhD, as well as other Jewish travellers of his time. So I’ve done some extensive background reading on many aspects of Judaism.’

They moved to one of the computer terminals and looked up information on Safed. Mina thought she should start her investigations with the oldest synagogue; it was the one most likely to have information about Benjamin of Tudela. It seemed that the Abuhav shul , the Yiddish word often used for synagogue, was the oldest.

After printing out a map of central Safed and a few other documents, they made their way to the Abuhav shul . They walked through charming meandering streets covered in snow, with colourful posters on the walls, old women opening window shutters, young Jews walking to shul . People were preparing for Chanukah everywhere around them. What Mina enjoyed most though, were her own muffled footsteps. It felt like she was walking in a dream, where no-one could hear her arriving nor leaving, except for the occasional crunch in the frosty snow. Looking up, she noticed many houses had domed roofs, the shape of which was emphasised by the weight of fallen snow. Having passed the main square, they arrived at an open courtyard. They walked through a narrow lane, framed on either side with tall walls and finally arrived at the entrance of the synagogue. They were surprised at the height of the building; it was at least four storeys tall. As they passed through the entrance, out of the silent courtyard and into the warmth of this place of learning, they felt blood rushing through their bodies again. It was like walking through a small orchard of stone trees, with beautiful cupolas and finely carved pillars dividing the internal spaces of the building. At the centre of the mosaic floor was a platform from which the Torah scroll was read. Mina’s trained eye immediately noticed the unusual elements of their surroundings; the ceilings were painted blue, to remind the visitors of the celestial vision; there were three holy arks instead of one. Mina picked up a crumpled leaflet at the entrance that gave a few explanations to visitors. One of the arks enshrined a sefer Torah, a Torah scroll that was over five hundred years old, brought back by Rabbi Isaac Abuhav from his native Portugal.