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Until, at last, they fell to earth
exhausted.

‘I love you.’

And she smiled at him and Jake knew that
nothing could go wrong ever again.

They lay there like that, relaxing.  It
could have been forever for all Jake cared but no.  He had a mission.  He had
to go.  There was Mitch.  He could return at any moment.  For now he was free
of the En Sof.  It was not an advantage he should waste.

He looked at Cherry.

‘We’ve got to go,’ he told her.

‘But…?’

‘No, we can’t wait.  I’m sorry.’

They dressed and held each other again.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I have to find the remaining five
crystals.  The next three are in the world called the Arka.  To reach it I must
leave this place and cross the Ha’aravah.  That should be easy but going
through the Arka, I don’t know.  It is where the demons live and also the
spirits of the dead who have no place in either this world or the World to
Come.  I don’t like the thought of you coming with me but I’ve no choice.  I
know of no way to send you home without the power of the crystals at my
disposal.

‘Come.  We should make a move.’

‘But, Jake.  Wait.’

‘What is it?’

‘I think I can help you.’

‘Help me?  How?’

‘I can take us direct to the Arka.  I
learnt how when I was with Mitch.’

‘But how?’

She laughed, ‘Hush, let me try.’

‘Okay.  Why not?’  (What was there to
lose?)

And she muttered some words that Jake
could barely hear.  They seemed to work immediately.  The world began to spin. 
Faster and faster it whirled, and he held on to his woman for support.  How was
it possible?  How did she know?

But it was no use speculating.  At once,
everything slowed down and they came to rest.

They were in a different world entirely. 
This place was grey.  It was dank and dismal.  There could be no doubt where
they were.

 It was the Arka.  His quest could begin
in earnest.

‘You should not be afraid.  You are
doing well.’

‘But, that is easy for you to say.  You
haven’t seen what happened.’

‘Shmueli, listen to my voice.  Hear my
words.  I am your Guardian Angel.  I would not allow any harm to come to you.’

‘But...Rabbi Tashlich.’

‘Is dead, I know.  I helped you leave
before you succumbed to his madness.  It is all the doing of the evil one
called Benjamin Tiferet.  He is your enemy; remember that.’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’

‘Good.  Then, argue no longer.  Do all
that I tell you.’

…………………………………………

‘Tell your father; will you.’

What?

‘Sam, hey, Sam.  Snap out of it.’

Shmueli opened his eyes and reoriented. 
He was sitting in the back of his parents’ car.  Of course.

‘Sorry Mum.  I was dozing.  What is it?’

‘Tell your father that he looks better
when he shaves.’

 ‘What would he know?  Sam hasn’t shaved
since he became a
frummer
, have you?’

‘Well, I do trim my beard.’

‘That’s better than some of your lot, at
least.  Now leave me alone to concentrate on my driving.  Getting me up in the
middle of the night and ordering me to take Sam to Manchester and then having
the
chutzpah
to have a go at me about shaving.  You’re a bloody slave
driver, woman.’

‘Oh, David.  Don’t be ridiculous.  Slave
driver...me.  Sam’s in trouble.  The least we can do is help.  It’s
just...Well, you know.  When you haven’t shaved, your face’s all scratchy.  It’s
not nice to K.I.S.S.’

Shmueli smiled at his parents’ good
natured and somewhat naive banter, but they’d always been like that.  Trust Mum
to have a go at Dad about his shaving.  Poor fellow but, all told, they were
pretty marvellous parents.  Some of the others who had become
baalei
teshuvot
^[21]
with him had been completely alienated from their families because of their
decision to become more religious.  But not his parents.  They had stuck by him
even when it reached a stage where he kept such a strictly kosher diet that he
would no longer eat their food.  Now, again, they had accepted what he had told
them and asked no questions.

They had been the only ones he could turn
to.  As soon as he’d got home they had made frantic phone calls and had found
accommodation in the Marlborough a large traditional hotel in the village of
Topham just outside Manchester.

He did not dare tell them the truth of
what he had seen.  They would never have believed him.  He shuddered as he
remembered.  It was as if an age had passed since he saw what had happened to
Rabbi Tashlich and his poor wife.  They had gone quite mad.  It was obscene
what they had done to each other.  Oh yes, Tiferet would pay for that.  Somehow
Shmueli would make him pay.

It would not be long now.  Soon they would
be at the hotel and he would be able to relax for the first time in days. 
Relaxation; it was the panacea he needed desperately.  If it had not been for
the soothing ministrations of his guardian angel he would have suffered a
breakdown by now, he was certain of it.

By early afternoon they arrived in the
picturesque village and were checking into the hotel.

Shmueli’s room adjoined that given to his
parents.  Both were pleasant with en-suite bathrooms and decorated in a
tasteful cream.  It went without saying that they were immaculately presented.

Gratefully Shmueli lay on the bed and
permitted himself the luxury of a doze.  He put all thoughts of the past behind
him.  Now, all he wanted to do was relax and forget everything.

It was not to be.  Almost as soon as he
shut his eyes there was a knock on the door.  It was his mother.  He invited
her in and looked at her with mild annoyance.

‘Oh, Sam, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right, Mum.  What?’

‘Isn’t it time you told me what this is
all about?’

‘I can’t.’

‘But why not?  It can’t be all that bad,
can it?’

‘Please.  I don’t want to discuss it.’

‘But, Sam.’

He shook his head.  How could he even
begin to tell her the things that had happened to him?

‘I’m sorry, Mum.  I can’t; believe me.  I
would if I could, honestly.’

‘It’s to do with that reporter, isn’t it? 
That Mitch Mitchell I warned you about.’

Mitch Mitchell?  That name seemed
familiar.  Who was he?

A sudden cloud passed across his mind.  A
dark thought and then a soothing gesture.

‘Forget.  There is nothing to fear.’

‘Sam.  You’re drifting off again.  You are
in a bad way, aren’t you?’

‘Sorry.  What were you saying?’

‘I’m going to call Professor Tiferet. 
He’ll know what to do.’

‘No!’

His heart was racing.

‘Why ever not?’

‘He’s...’  But there was nothing he could
say.

‘Sam.  You’re getting ridiculous.  What is
the matter with you?  You’re behaving really strangely.’

He clenched his teeth, ‘I don’t want you
to talk to Tiferet.  Understand?’

‘Hey.  You’re beginning to frighten me. 
Sam!’

‘Do you hear me?  Do not contact Tiferet
or else I’ll...’

‘You’ll what?  Just remember who you’re
talking to.’

They stared at each other for a few
seconds until Elizabeth Isaacson turned away.

‘All right.  I’ve had enough of this.  I
really have.’

She stood up and walked towards the door.

‘We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down a bit.

‘Oh,’ she said as she made to leave, ‘And,
by the way.  I’ve spoken to the manager about your dinner.  They’ll do you a
strictly vegetarian meal.  If that’s not kosher enough for you you’re welcome
to check the kitchen.

‘I’ll see you later.’

Shmueli watched her leave.  He tried to
control the mounting anger within him.  Tiferet.  How could she think of
talking to Tiferet?  He was so evil...evil.

‘Do not worry.  They will not contact
the Bent Ferret.’

‘But, how can you be sure?’

‘Trust me.  I will see to it.  I will
see to it.  Now rest.’

Shmueli’s eyes closed as the gentle
ministrations of his guardian angel soothed his tortured mind and he drifted
off to a light sleep.

His mother, however, was still agitated. 
Something was wrong with Sam.  He was such a mild mannered boy.  Why this
aggressive stance at the mention of Professor Tiferet?  His behaviour was quite
out of character.

She continued to fret as she returned to
her room.  David would have to do something.  She looked down at him, lying
there on the bed with his hands behind his head as if he did not have a care in
the world.  His face was covered in grey bristles.  He looked awful.

‘David!’

‘What?’

‘I thought you were going to shave whilst
I was in with Sam.’

‘Oh, Liz.  Stop driving me
meshugga
.’

‘But this is a good quality hotel.  You
can’t appear a
shloch.
’

David Isaacson shook his head and laughed,
‘You do worry about the most ridiculous things.  It’s only one day’s growth,
it’s hardly noticeable.’

‘Well it is to me.’

‘All right.  I’ll shave before we go down
to dinner.  And, talking of dinner, how’s our resident
frummer
?’

‘Well, I told him he could check the
kitchen.’

‘And...?’

‘I don’t think he was listening.  There’s
something very wrong with him.  You know what I mean.’

‘What’re you talking about?  He’s done
something silly and needs to get away from it all to forget about it.’

‘Done something silly, but what?  Why
can’t he tell us?  What can he have done?  Murdered someone?’

‘Oh don’t be so bloody melodramatic. 
Knowing Sam, it’s something petty that he’s blown out of all proportion.  You
know what he’s like.’

‘I know, but to get us to drive away from
London.  He didn’t even want to turn to his friends.  You saw the state he was
in when he arrived home.  I think he really is in trouble.  With the police
even.’

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous.  What could Sam
do that would involve the police?  Oh, all right, I’ll talk to him, if that’s
what you want.’

‘Thanks.  But I’ve tried.  It didn’t do any
good.’

‘Well, I’m his father.  Sometimes it needs
a man to sort these things out.’

He made to get up but Elizabeth restrained
him.

‘Let him rest for the moment.  He seemed
very tired.  Give him an hour.  I’m going to call that Israeli Professor.’

‘What?  Tiferet, you mean?  Why?’

‘Well, I can’t help feeling that this has
got something to do with what he was warning us about.  You know the crystal in
the
becha. 
You remember.’

‘Of course I do.  But that was all so
crazy.  What can that bloke know about this?’

‘But, he said that Sam was in danger. 
Well, maybe that’s what’s happening.’

‘Oh come on.  Danger? Sam?  I never took
that seriously when you first told me.’

She gave him a look.  She did not need to
back it up with words...and waited.

For a few seconds he wavered and then,
‘Oh, all right.  If that’s what you want.  Call Tiferet.  Fat lot of good
that’ll do, but, if it makes you happy...’

She dialled the number she had been
given.  There was no reply at first and then a woman’s voice answered.

‘Can I speak with Professor Tiferet?’

‘Sorry, love, but he’s moved out.  He gave
me a number where you can leave a message, though.’

Elizabeth took a note of the number and
called it.  She left a message.

It was at that moment that an icy wind
seemed to whoosh through the bedroom.  She could not help shivering.

‘You’d better talk to the management. 
There’s a nasty draught in here.’

David, however, did not reply.  There was
a strange faraway look in his eyes.

‘Hey, David.’

He shook his head.

‘Wh...what?’

‘Not you also.  What is it with the
menfolk of this family?  Can’t either of you keep awake?’

‘Sorry,’ as if he did not have a clue what
she was speaking about.

‘Oh, never mind.  Let’s go out for a
walk.  You can talk to Sam when we get back.’

‘Okay, give me a second.  I need the lav.’

She waited as her husband headed for the
en-suite bathroom to do whatever it was he needed..................and was
suddenly surprised by her shoulders being shaken.  She blinked and saw David. 
But how?  She had not seen him come out.

‘Liz, you okay?’

‘Yes, I think so.  What happened?’

‘It was like you were in a trance or
something.  Come on.  I think we could both do with the fresh air.’

He was right.  What was happening to
them?  First Sam, then David and finally her.  It was almost as if they were
all being hypnotised.

……………………………………………

Whilst they were out Shmueli decided to
take the Hotel up on its offer to allow him to visit the kitchens.  Normally he
would never eat anywhere other than in a supervised kosher restaurant but he was
forced by circumstances to stay here and he supposed that he would have to find
something to eat if he were not to starve.  The alternative was to take a cab
to either Prestwich or Salford.  He remembered being told by one of his friends
that that was where Manchester’s surviving kosher eateries were located and
there was the obvious last resort; Hillel, the Jewish student house on the
University campus.  Assuming it would be open at this time of year.  At least
if it was the grub would be cheap.

Still, it might be possible to have a
salad from the kitchen if he checked its preparation.  If they had some tinned
tuna that could also be okay.  He headed down to the basement and found his way
to the kitchen.  He was confronted by a room full of the most wondrous sights
and smells, a place where tasty English and Continental food was prepared in a
traditional manner, where oil sizzled and stock boiled and the hiss of steam
escaping at high pressure awoke all his senses.

A young, ginger and freckled chef broke
away from his work and approached him.

‘Yes?’ he said in broad Mancunian.

Which left Shmueli wondering how he should
ask.  He was hopeless at this kind of thing.

‘Well, its, you see...’

At which moment a tall and gaunt looking
figure wearing a dinner suit appeared from the shadows.

‘Ah, you must be the young Mr Isaacson,’
he said in immaculate tones, ‘I was told to expect your visit.’

Shmueli realised that his beard and
scull-cap must have identified him.  Gratefully he turned to the newcomer.

‘Let me show you our facilities.  We do
provide a strictly vegetarian alternative to our standard menu but if that is
still not satisfactory I can arrange a meal to order.’

‘Thanks, but it’s not just that.  It’s
very difficult to explain.’

‘No, no,’ the Maître d’ laughed, ‘I have
had some experience with catering for orthodox Jewish people.  I understand
your difficulties.  Come, let me show you what we have.’

He led the way and Shmueli followed on
gladly.  Maybe this would be all right after all.

The smells coming from the feverish
activity of the staff were divine.  Juicy lamb roasting, onions being fried; it
had to be absolutely delicious.  There was a chicken being covered in honey and
sweetmeats.  How wondrous.  Shmueli, for one brief moment, even considered what
it would be like to eat the fare being provided but he knew that it was not to
be.  None of it was in the slightest bit kosher.

A whiff of strong cheese assailed his
nostrils; brie or stilton, and there was someone cutting into a block of
parmesan with an old fashioned cheese wire.  His mouth was really watering and
all to no avail.  Sometimes he really regretted his decision to become more
religious.