The Kabbalist (8 page)

E
itan Barak was Yossi
Luria’s business partner. They met during their military service. Eitan was
Luria’s deputy in an elite commando company, and replaced him when Luria retired
from the army. After leaving the military, Eitan worked for a few years in the
state service, performing certain discreet tasks. When he got tired of being
told what to do, he decided to quit. At about the same time, Luria’s police
career was over, and he was looking for something to do, so the two friends
decided to open their own private investigations office. With their knowledge,
skill and connections, they managed to set up a reasonably successful business.

The two were now
sitting in Luria’s office.

“Well, you want me to
take over the Porat case, so you can have time to allocate to the French girl,”
summarized Eitan. “I do not blame you. Noga keeps telling me wonders about that
chick of yours.”

“This is pure nonsense,"
said Luria patiently. “While I do need time for this new case, the point is
that Porat now knows I am on his tail. I told you he had threatened me. He is
going to be extremely cautious now, and I need somebody else to tail him.”

“But why tail him,”
wondered Eitan, “when you have already nailed him?”

“I am pretty sure he
has another lover; at least one.”

Eitan contemplated
this. “Suppose he has, so what? Will his wife pay us by the lover?”

“Just don’t worry about
it, OK? She will pay whatever I have agreed with her. It was a piece of cake anyway.
I got the bastard in two days. I just want to do a professional job with no
loose ends.”

Eitan looked at him
amused. “Luria… it is not like we have met today for the first time...”

Luria was not amused.
“This is not what you are thinking.”

“And what
am
I
thinking?”

“Eitan, I
do
have a personal score to balance with this asshole, but this is not about
revenge now. I have good reasons for keeping him under surveillance. I want to
know what he is up to. The man threatened me, and you know who his friends
are.”

Eitan looked at him
dubiously. “Are you afraid of Srur?” he asked. “This is not like you. And by
the way, Srur is abroad. He left this morning to visit his casino in Prague and
will be away for a week.”

“This is neither about
Srur nor about fear. This is simply about being ready and staying one step
ahead.”

“And what else?”

“Isn’t this enough? My
stomach tells me that tailing Porat will pay off.”

“You have already said
he knows you are on his tail.” Eitan still had his doubts. “He must be a
perfect idiot to meet his lovers right now. Yigal Porat is a scum and many
other things, but he is no idiot. I believe that in the coming few weeks he
will conduct himself like a monk.”

“You may be right.”

“So what do you want me
to do?” wondered Eitan.

“Porat’s wife is
leaving for London on vacation tomorrow. If he does have a lover, then his
lover will expect him to seize the opportunity and devote some attention to
her. Am I making sense?”

“I am listening.”

“In this case, either
he will call her to explain why he is not coming over, or she will call him to
find out why he is not coming. Probably, both will happen.”

“You expect me to bug
him? You know what big favors I will need to ask for that and how much it may
cost. Besides, bugging a lawyer? He will tear us to pieces if he finds out!”

“If you do it right,
there is no reason he will.”

Eitan smiled. “I was
just joking. You know I love this stuff. And besides, I loathe the little shit
no less than you do.”

The phone rang. Luria
picked it up. “What is it, Noga?”

“Your guest has
arrived.”

“Thank you, I will see
him in a minute.” He put the receiver down, looked at Eitan and stood up. “So,
are we in agreement?”

Eitan rose from his
chair as well. “Yes sir. I am with you, even though you are not telling me
everything. Good luck with the Frenchwoman.”

“Please, Eitan, enough
of this nonsense.” Luria escorted his friend to the door and opened it. Eitan
crossed the lobby and disappeared into his office.

Luria stepped out. In
the lobby sat a Hassidic Jew of about forty, dressed in a black robe, with a
beard and side locks framing his face. Having seen Luria, he rose to his feet, grinning.
“Peace be upon you
,
Rabbi Yossi.”

Luria did not hide his
joy. “Aryeh,” he called, “it is so good to see you.”

The two embraced.
Behind her desk, Noga looked in astonishment at the odd couple. “Can I get you something?”
she asked.

“Noga, please meet
Aryeh, my cousin. I will thank you for my regular coffee, and it will be muddy
black with no sugar whatsoever for Aryeh,” said Luria.

The bearded man smiled
and shook his head in appreciation, his side locks dancing around his face.
“Well done, Yossi. You remembered.”

“That I should not
remember how my cousin likes his coffee…” laughed Luria. “This is one of those
things that do not change. It goes back to the times you used to be a sinner
like me. New costume does not change old habits.”

Aryeh burst into
laughter and slapped his cousin’s shoulder. “You misguided lamb... this costume
is already ten years old, but you still call it new… OK, have it your way.”

Luria hugged his guest’s
shoulder with his arm, and the two stepped into the office. Luria led his
cousin to the small round table in the corner, which he used for informal
meetings, and the two sat down on opposite sides. They were silent for a
moment, looking at each other affectionately.

*    *    *

Aryeh was five years older
than Yossi. As a boy, the strong and bold Aryeh was a role model for his
younger cousin. The families were close and lived in the same Safedi neighborhood,
so the kids got to spend a lot of time together. Occasionally, Aryeh would let
Yossi take part in the adventures of the gang of kids he led.

In time, Aryeh joined
an elite crack unit in the
IDF
[xvii]
and soon
found himself in commanding roles. Yossi naturally followed him there and trod
a similar path, becoming a company commander. In the year Yossi joined the
army, Aryeh returned from a long journey around the world and started studying
history at the University of Haifa. Two years later, during a visit to his
parents in Safed, he met by pure chance Esther, his future wife. She was a girl
from a Hassidic family, and his whole world turned upside down. Yossi Luria
never forgot the shock he suffered upon finding out that his beloved cousin had
crossed the lines into an alien world. The Hassidic wedding he was invited to,
while joyful and lively, was for him a nightmarish farewell party from his
cousin, commemorating his departure from the sane world. The dancing Hassidim,
the women watching from afar, his Aryeh being carried on the shoulders of the
moving, dark human mass… it all seemed a
strange,
weird ritual. The whirling black circles of dancing men were like a carousel
tossing Aryeh away from reality into delirious realms.

Eventually, Yossi learned
to live with his loss. He had to acknowledge that it was, after all, Aryeh’s
choice to make. He knew their relationship would never fully recover from this
blow, and did his best to preserve something of the old bond they had once
shared. But it was becoming harder. Aryeh, always the leader type, became a
pillar of his Safedi community. He was constantly busy with one public activity
or the other. They saw each other much less frequently than they used to, but
they did try to keep in touch, however forced it felt. Yossi was invited to the
Brith
– the circumcision ceremony of each of Aryeh’s sons, who seemed to
emerge into the world at regular intervals of about a year, but the vast
distance between their worlds proved a considerable barrier. Luria was never at
ease with Esther, Aryeh’s wife. Although not admitting this to himself, he could
not forgive her for hijacking the soul and friendship of his beloved cousin and
best friend. She, on the other hand, was not keen on a relationship with
someone she considered a malignant remnant of her husband’s previous life, which
she abhorred and preferred to ignore and forget altogether.

*    *    *

“It’s a nice place you have
here,” said Aryeh. “I am glad you invited me. It was about time I visited your
office.”

Luria smiled. “Thanks. I
am really happy you could come. I have a case where I can use your help, and I
wanted to discuss it with you. Anyway, what’s new in Safed? How is the family?”

“Thank god, everybody’s
healthy. Esther is pregnant.”

“With the sixth one?”

“It’s the seventh, actually.”

“Is that so? Well,
nobody can blame you for not obeying
‘be fruitful, and multiply’
…”

“It’s a big
Mitzvah
[xviii]
,”
beamed Aryeh. “And what about you, cousin? Still hovering among the flowers?
Isn’t it time for you to build a home?”

“
’To every thing
there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven’
[xix]
,”
quoted Luria. “My time will come. I am still waiting for the woman of my
dreams.”

“But you already had
her!” exclaimed Aryeh. “Every man would have been blessed with a woman like
your Ella. Intelligent, sharp, beautiful too… How the hell did you let her go?”

He noticed the pain in
his cousin’s face and got hold of himself. “Well, never mind,” he sighed. “But
don’t you wait too long. Meanwhile, why don’t you come with me today to Safed,
stay the Sabbath with us and grow stronger in your faith? You can take a lesson
in the Talmud, or warm yourself in the light of Kabbalah on the Rashbi’s tomb.
There is a lesson for beginners with the famous Rabbi Goren on Sunday – a
tremendous experience.”

If there was something
Luria could not stand in the new incarnation of his cousin, it was his
incessant attempts at saving his soul. “Perhaps we will do that one day,” he said
quickly, “but not in the coming few weeks. I am very busy these days.”

Aryeh grimaced. “Ah,
you are busy… but not with the things that really matter. I used to be like you
until ten years ago, but I returned to my roots, and God be praised, I also
discovered the light of Kabbalah. It is important we remember that our family
name stands for something.”

The Holy Ari (Hebrew
acronym for the “
Devine Rabbi Yitzhak
”), or in his full name Rabbi
Yitzhak Ben Shlomo Luria Askenazi, lived in the 16
^th
century. He was
the head and inspiration of the Safedi Kabbalist community and the founder of a
new method in Kabbalah that carried his name – Lurianic Kabbalah.

“And what other
business brings you to Haifa,” Luria tried desperately to change the subject.

“I have some community
business to take care of and some shopping I have been postponing for some
time. So when you called, I decided that meeting my young cousin is a great
excuse for doing all those things, which I have been delaying for weeks now.
After all, having already mentioned the name, you are a Luria too.”

Yossi Luria groaned
inside. His diversion failed.

“You know,” said Aryeh.
“My Bar Mitzvah assignment, back in the old days, was the construction of our
family tree. My research then got me four generations back. Well, lately I have
been seized by a passion to resume this research, and I now have some new tools
at my disposal. A few years ago, I met this old man in Safed. He must be over a
hundred, yet his memory is sound and sharp as if he was forty, and he also has
a lot of documents in his possession. The man is a living encyclopedia of the
history of Safed, I am telling you, and with his help, I have been collecting
new pieces of information. I believe we are descended from the Holy Ari, and I
will soon complete our family tree and prove it.”

“Just a moment.” Luria
seized the opportunity to lead the conversation to where he wanted it. “Talking
about Safedi history, there is this subject I wanted to discuss with you. I
need your help, Aryeh.”

The door opened, and
Noga entered with two cups of coffee. She placed them on the table and left.
The two men sipped their coffee, enjoying the hot, bitter liquid for a while.
Aryeh fixed his questioning eyes on his cousin over the brim of his cup. “I am
listening.”

During the following
fifteen minutes or so, Luria told his cousin all he knew about the Jewish girl from
Safed of more than 200 years ago. Aryeh listened intently, occasionally
interrupting with questions, which his cousin did his best to answer, until at
last Aryeh was satisfied. “So you want to know who this mysterious Rivka was.”

“I do. Indeed.”

“Forgive me for asking,
but why does it matter to anybody, who this girl, whom some gentile officer
fancied over 200 years ago, was?”

“That’s a good
question,” admitted Luria. "I asked my client the very same one. She
claims that she is investigating her family history, and that it may also
somehow contribute to her thesis.”

“And what do
you
think?”

“What she says is not
totally unreasonable. She might well be telling the truth. Yet, she is a woman,
and a Frenchwoman at that, and I do not presume to understand her way of
thinking.”

“And might she not be
telling the truth?”

“I think she
is
telling the truth, but I am not sure she is telling the
whole
truth. You
will be surprised to know how many clients hide information from the
investigator they have hired. They think they can control it, but usually when
you start illuminating the darkest corners with a floodlight, all the demons
come out screaming. So we’ll wait and see.”