Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (42 page)

There were still nine days before Passover began, leaving Rivka and Salomon one day to host their newest grandson’s
brit milah
banquet before all leavened foodstuffs would be removed from their house for the festival. But all Miriam could think of was whether she would or wouldn’t be performing her first circumcision on that day.

M
iriam put down the ledger and rubbed her eyes. Once this page was finished, Papa’s wine accounts would be caught up through Passover. That left only Rachel and Alvina’s, but she had until the Hot Fair to do them—that is, unless her sister returned early.

Last year, when Rachel, Eliezer, and their infant son left for Prague, Miriam had volunteered to take care of the “chicken” business for her sister for two months. It wasn’t difficult, and it gave her an excuse to stay home and avoid the vineyard with its springtime memories of Benjamin.

Although Avram decided that Miriam was not sufficiently trained to circumcise Rachel’s son, he allowed her to cut the remaining shreds. Judah knew she was relieved, but for everyone else, Miriam feigned disappointment. Since then she continued doing everything except removing the foreskin. Not that Avram had her do all the parts each time. He needed to keep in practice too.

When Rachel and Eliezer returned to Troyes there was a letter from Eliezer’s mother, instructing him to sell Shemiah’s goods at the Hot Fair, buy new merchandise, and transport it home to Arles. Of course Rachel would not be left behind, so when Alvina returned to Paris in August, Miriam kept servicing their clients. The Cold Fair brought a message that Rachel and Eliezer would spend the winter sailing the Mediterranean and gaining the trust of Shemiah’s old business partners. They’d be back for the Hot Fair.

Miriam had fumed at Rachel’s assumption that she would continue to manage the “chicken” business, but she couldn’t abandon the poor women who needed loans. Especially with so many people desperate for money this winter.

Count Thibault’s oldest son, Étienne-Henri, had stupidly attacked King Philippe and, even more stupidly, gotten himself captured, forcing Thibault to pay an enormous ransom to free him. Taxes reached new heights, yet most households wouldn’t see the bulk of their income until summer.

Miriam looked back at her ledgers and gave a quick prayer of thanksgiving. Luckily Papa had sold his wine at higher prices than this year’s quality deserved. Ever since Moses haCohen cured some rich Norman’s intestinal illness with regular doses of Jewish wine, it seemed as if every nobleman in France wanted some. Still, she enjoyed staying home to deal with her various clients; it gave her the opportunity to teach Yom Tov Torah.

Thinking of him immediately brightened her mood. Yom Tov, her little scholar, was so happy to study with his cousin Shmuel and Isaac haParnas’s grandson, Samson. Shmuel, who preferred the Hebrew version of his name to the French, had protested at being separated from his brother Isaac, who was learning Mishnah from Meir with the older boys.

So Miriam decided to teach the boys Mishnah herself. Written in Hebrew, Mishnah shouldn’t be any harder to read than scripture. That was last autumn, and now the three boys, less than a year apart in age, were inseparable. Teaching them was a labor of love, and sometimes, when Yom Tov easily read a new text, she almost wept with pride.

But she missed not being able to study with her sisters. Rachel was far away, and Joheved was too busy caring for Leah, her newborn daughter. Judah offered to study Talmud with her, but they rarely had time except on Shabbat. Right now Judah sat opposite her at the dining table, quill pen suspended above the
kuntres
in front of him. With Eliezer away, he had decided to turn his attention to Papa’s commentaries rather than look for a new study partner.

“What tractate are you working on?” she asked.

Judah blinked a couple of times and looked up at her. He smiled sheepishly. “Pardon me.”

Miriam smiled back and repeated her question.

“Bava Kamma. Papa plans to teach it this summer.”

Miriam was about to ask Judah to share the section he was preparing, when there was a knock on the door, followed by her father’s voice.

“I saw by the light that you were still awake.” Salomon walked in and pulled out a piece of parchment. “I’d like your opinions about this.”

Judah took the letter and Salomon added, “Don’t tell me what you think until Miriam has read it too.”

Judah’s initial expression was one of mild curiosity. But as he read further, his face reddened and he began to scowl. After reading it twice more, he handed Miriam the letter as if it were a rodent carcass.

Odd, there was no addressee, and a quick glance at the letter’s end showed no author’s signature either. The words looked like Hebrew, but after a confusing couple of lines, Miriam realized she was reading Aramaic. Whoever had written this letter had been very careful.

“My dear brother,” the letter began. “I ask you to offer hospitality to a former pupil who will soon be arriving in Troyes. E is an excellent student and his father is a prominent merchant in Worms, but E is unable to continue his studies here. Apparently his relationship with his study partner became carnal in nature. Upon questioning, the study partner repented of his sin and claimed responsibility, admitting that he, the elder, had led his young friend astray. He agreed to leave the yeshiva but begged that E not be expelled on his account. Unfortunately the scandal prevents E from attending another yeshiva in Ashkenaz, but there should be no such difficulty in Troyes. I therefore urge you to take this youth, who speaks no French, under your wing.”

The writer concluded, “Give my regards to my sister and nieces, as well as to your sons, two of my finest students, whom I remember fondly to this day.”

Judah looked like he’d just met a demon. “Rav Isaac is sending us a student who lies with other men! And we are expected to accept him because of his rich father.”

Salomon sighed heavily. “The letter is indeed written by my wife’s brother, but I’m not sure your other conclusion is warranted. We don’t know what sin the boy has committed.”

“But it’s obvious.”

“
Non
, it’s not!” Miriam surprised them with her vehemence. “If there had been witnesses, Uncle Isaac would have said so. The only obvious thing is that E’s study partner cared for him so much that he was willing to accept the entire blame in order to protect him. That doesn’t mean they were . . .” She couldn’t speak the final words.

Miriam met her husband’s eyes, now filled with pain, and silently appealed to him.
Has he forgotten about Daniel and the suffering he’d endured on account of their close friendship?

Apparently not, because he turned to Salomon and said, “I spoke too quickly. We must assume that a scholar acted properly, no matter how sinful his behavior appeared.”

“If E is such a good student, perhaps the others were jealous and accused him falsely,” Miriam said.

Salomon stroked his beard as he looked back and forth between them. “We can probably assume that E and his study partner grew fond of each other, and that someone heard or saw something that appeared to be inappropriate.”

“But to be shamed publicly like that—it’s outrageous,” Judah protested. “Study partners are supposed to be fond of each other, and plenty of them snuggle together under the covers at night if it’s cold.”

“Judah, I’m not saying the boy did anything wrong,” Salomon replied soothingly. “But Isaac didn’t send me that letter just to gossip. It’s a warning.”

“Against what?” Judah asked bitterly. “Are we supposed to keep him away from the other boys, make him sleep separately?”

“If E and his study partner were so close, he’s probably feeling bereft at their separation. Not to mention the shame he’s had to endure,” Miriam said. “We must reach out to him with kindness.”

“The boy’s unhappiness will be compounded by his being away from home and unable to speak our language.” Salomon’s voice was somber. “We must prevent him from becoming too melancholy.”

Judah nodded, recalling his own despair on the bridge above the Rhine that rainy night long ago.

“He could board with us,” Miriam said. “It would give me more opportunity to practice the German Mama taught us when we were little.”

Judah didn’t look happy about her offer, but he agreed. “We could both keep a close watch over him.”

“An excellent idea.” Salomon clasped Judah’s shoulder. “He can study with you until we find him an appropriate study partner.”

Judah’s stomach lurched as his
yetzer tov
sensed the approaching danger, but it was too late. He was committed to helping the boy.

“But we mustn’t separate him from the other students.” Miriam shook her head.

Salomon stroked his beard again. “I suggest that a few of the older boys move in with you as well. Then they can stay up late studying during the Hot Fair without risking a fire in the attic or disturbing the others.”

“Don’t worry, Papa,” Miriam said. “We’ll take good care of our first student from Allemagne.”

Judah forced himself to relax. If his
yetzer hara
grew too unruly, Miriam would save him—again.

 

Much to Miriam’s relief, Rachel and Eliezer arrived in Troyes the same week as the mysterious E and his rich father. Miriam gratefully gave up the “chicken” business and turned her attention to the task of making her new boarder comfortable.

E, that is Elisha, was small for his age, with a baby face and large brown eyes that looked like they might fill with tears at any moment. It was difficult to gauge his intellect because he cringed and fell silent as soon as his father even glanced in his direction.

Papa must have noticed this, because after a few days he took the man aside. “I appreciate you honoring my table, but I realize that you are here in Troyes for business, much of which is conducted when merchants dine together, and I’d hate for you to neglect your livelihood on my account. I’d be pleased, however, if you could join us on Shabbat.”

“Papa was so diplomatic,” Judah said later that night. “Now maybe we can hear more of what the boy has to say.”

“What do you think of Elisha? Is he really that good a student or was Uncle Isaac just trying to get rid of him?”

“He seems to follow the discussions, and the few questions he’s asked have been intelligent.”

Miriam sighed. “He’s not what I expected. He seems fragile somehow.”

“Don’t worry.” Judah patted her hand. “We won’t let anything happen to him.”

“We will make him such a great scholar that people in Mayence will feel ashamed for treating him so badly.”

Judah warmed at the determination in his wife’s voice. Eight years ago he’d left Mayence in disgrace, and then the Holy One had blessed him. Now he would show his gratitude by seeing that Elisha prospered in Troyes, just as he had.

“
Bonne nuit
.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Starting tomorrow morning I’ll be getting up early to study with the scholars from Byzantium.”

Miriam nudged his shoulder. “Why don’t you take Elisha with you? The servants say that he’s usually up before dawn.”

“Good idea.” Judah wasn’t sure if that was his
yetzer tov
or his
yetzer hara
talking. “And over breakfast afterward, we’ll tell you what we learned.”

 

Two months later, with the Hot Fair drawing to a close, Miriam had trained herself to get up when Judah did. She said her
selichot
prayers and then took Shimson into bed with her to nurse. Once he woke, her son was impatient to start the day, but before dawn, when he was still drowsy, she could coax him into a morning feeding in addition to one at bedtime.

As usual, the sun was rising over the courtyard walls when she heard Judah and Elisha coming through the gate, and she held Shimson up to the window to wave at them. The two were deep in conversation, Judah’s arm around Elisha’s shoulder and their heads inclined together as they walked.

Brimming with satisfaction, Miriam changed her son’s swaddling and went downstairs to greet them. But Elisha was uncharacteristically silent at breakfast, allowing Judah to explain what they had learned that morning. And he was so subdued when they walked to synagogue that Miriam had to ask what was bothering him.

“I hope you’re not coming down with something,” she said with a frown.

“I’m fine,” he said in German. “Perfectly fine.”

Now Miriam was sure something was wrong. Elisha usually preferred French, only resorting to German when he was tired or frustrated.

“Judah, all this studying is keeping Elisha from getting enough sleep.” She was half-teasing and half-serious. “It’s a good thing he’s going home where he can get some rest.”

“Don’t blame Judah—I wish I could study even more.” Elisha sounded close to tears.

Miriam stopped and faced the youth. “What’s the matter, Elisha? You can tell me.”

Judah gently put his arm around Elisha. “Our new pupil isn’t very happy about going home.”

Of course not, Miriam thought. Not back to all that gossip and slander. “But surely you want to see your mother and sisters again.”

“I do, but . . . not all the others.”

“Elisha, you mustn’t let their evil words bother you.” Her voice rose with indignation. “Anyone who continues to tell lies about you so close to Yom Kippur should be ashamed of himself.”

Behind Elisha’s back, Judah put his finger to his lips and Miriam forced herself to keep still.
How could I be so tactless as to mention Elisha’s troubles in front of him? Now I have one more sin to repent for.

After services Elisha walked so slowly that Judah was sure they’d be late to
disner
. When they reached Salomon’s street, Elisha halted.

“Judah, I have to talk with you before I leave,” he said, staring down at the cobblestones.