Chapter 40
Esther could not contain herself. She complained, she grumbled, she even wept. Day after day went by, the boat lay idle on the beach, the nets swung in the wind and no one mended them. Meanwhile everyone else was hard at work and there were boats all over the lake. What would it come to if things went on like this? Who was going to do the fishing? Who would take fish to market and to Taricheis? The flour was running short, there was hardly any oil left. They were going to be the sort of people that couldn’t light the lamp at night. Did Shimon want his young wife and her old mother to go begging at the city gate? To sit among the halt and the lame and the lepers outside the beth-haknesseth? Did he want to turn his whole family into homeless vagabonds?
“My girl, I’m too old now to go fishing as well as do all the housework, and make a fool of myself! I tell you, by your father’s soul, if he could see this he’d be turning in his grave! Oy, the Sun went out of my life when he died and the stars set when we laid him to rest. Oy vey, I thought Shimon was a decent man, but now I can see that he just wanted you for your youth, for the flower of your virginity. As soon as you’d conceived he turned away from you. There never was such behaviour! The ancestors never saw such a thing! Shame, shame and disgrace! Why ever did Shimon come anywhere near you?”
So Esther moaned and groaned, and said a lot more besides in similar vein. Martha, however, did her best to hear as little as possible, because the reproaches, complaints and accusations were levelled not at Shimon but at the Master. She believed in him, admired him, and loved him with a love that was not of this world.
At first she defended the Master and scolded her mother, but Esther took exception to that. She had said nothing about the Master or theKingdomofHeaven, only Shimon. If the name of Yeshuah was mentioned she praised him fulsomely; Shimon, on the other hand, she criticised. It was no good Martha pointing out that Shimon was in fact with the Master, proclaiming theKingdomofGod. Her mother began straight away:
“There’s no kingdom that would want people not to go fishing, not see to the garden, not take care of the family, just leave them to take what comees, drive them to beggary! A kingdom like that wouldn’t be from Heaven, it’d be from Hell! The earth would be full of misery and lies, curses and troubles, people would eat each other up. Things are bad enough as it is. If Shimon were to say one word to the Master about his family being in need, surely he’d tell him ‘My friend, I can’t think for you. Why do you come with me? See to your affairs first, then come. Or don’t come. Someone else will take your place that can find the time.’ That’s what the Master would say, my dear girl, because he’s a wonderful man. He’d send Shimon home at least, if not Andreas as well. Of course, Zabiyah’s sons can go knocking about, their father’s well off, he employs workers, sends fish all over the place with no trouble, his customers get everything like they always have. But the man that lives by the work of his own hands, my girl, can’t allow himself the luxury. What do you think? Has Adonai, blessed be his name for ever, been waiting for Shimon and no one else? Can’t he bring his kingdom into being without him? Either it’ll happen without him or it won’t happen, and then no one’ll be able to bring it down to Earth.”
Esther would not have dared to say all this to Shimon, but she constantly irritated her daughter with it.
Martha did her best to work in place of the others, but she could not go on the water. She wept silently to herself and worked hard, if only to avoid her mother. If she was alone she thought of the child. Now she had given birth in her imagination, was suckling it, rocking it in her arms, whispering fond words to it, calling it Yeshu, hearing its thin little voice. But as her mother began to sigh, then to complain angrily, she grew bitter and so unhappy that she would have liked to die. She passionately wanted Shimon to be with her, wanted to look at the lake and see the boat with the two half-naked men aboard in the dim light of the Moon or the rising Sun, wanted to hear the pebbles crunching under their feet, their laconic words and the splashing of the fish in the boat. But she also wanted the Master to be there, to be able to talk to him, wash his feet, listen to what he said, see his big eyes and the ancient scar on his finger. The Master would be able to make everything as it had been before, and theKingdomofHeavenwould still come! The Master could do whatever he wanted!
Hanna too appeared constantly. Now she was scarcely ever at home but running irresponsibly all over the place, for ever looking for someone. She walked towards the house obstinately, determinedly, like a tax-collector. Her face was grim, her grey hair blew in the wind. She gave no greeting, only looked around with gleaming, enquiring eye and exclaimed:
“Not here this time either?”
He was not. They did not know where he was – or were keeping it a secret. Shimon had not appeared, nor Andreas or the others. Then Esther spoke differently. Who could bring a man to his responsibilities, who could enquire into his ways? A wife served her husband without a word. Haha! It’s easy for you two! Shimon and his brother had had some sense and joined the Master. Hanna’s husband, though, was so gormless and feeble that he hadn’t even gone near that other nabi, but if he had joined him now he too would have been near the Master all the time. Those that envied him, those wicked, wicked people, wouldn’t be able to block the Master’s way. According to Hanna the Master was surrounded by nothing but wicked, envious men who sought only their own interests. He himself, however, did nothing but talk. The wicked, wicked world couldn’t be changed by wandering about, chattering, deluding people and magic. Anyone that could do something (like the Master), however, kept it to themselves, hid it from people. Haha! The question was, could he really do anything? Because if he could he’d have cured her.
If that woman appeared at Shimon’s work stopped and time spread over the world like a boundless swamp. In that swamp seethed frogs, snakes, leeches and poisonous spiders, weeds filled the bottom, and anyone that stepped in sank neck-deep. Every time that she came into view on the winding road they decided to hear her out without saying a word, but she wheedled out their sympathy and as soon as she done that there immediately followed the flood of accusations. Or she drove them to contradict, whereupon she blurted out accusations against them, innocent though they were. She was inexhaustible and always deathly tired, and as she could not stop her extravagant onslaught, in her anxiety she found fault with those that were less anxious than her – her husband, her daughter, the shopher, the religious council, the Pharisees, the rich, the poor, the king, the Romans, the wise, the foolish, strangers and good friends . . . The Master too. Now she accused him openly of avoiding her, never being accessible, not wanting to cure her, because he was afraid of her sincerity . . . The Master hated her, she shrieked desperately, and laughed aloud. Of course he did. He couldn’t answer her questions. The Pharisees were right – what was true in what he taught wasn’t new, and what was new was untrue. He gave out some preposterous blasphemies. He performed his miracles by the power of Satan, to bamboozzle the ignorant and make them believe in him. He associated with riffraff, didn’t keep the fasts . . . Oh yes, the Pharisees were right! Hanna had known all along, that was what she’d thought the first time she set eyes on him.
Since the Master and his friends had gone Salome too, mother of the sons of Zabiyah, had called at the house almost every day. She was woman of a sternly moral nature, ambitious and dogmatic, who had ‘made her husband what he was’. She had even given him the name of Zabiyah, because she felt that Beniream was demeaning – nobody was going to call her an antelope! She was not satisfied with Zabiyah becoming a man of consequence, and wanted to make her sons greater men still. And so she had not minded their going to theJordan, nor did it upset her that they were now going round with the Master. It was her finest dream to see Yakob and Yokhanan beside the Liberator’s golden throne, in great glory and power. She wanted to the mother of a dynasty, and in her imagination an endless line of descendants followed her sons and grandsons till the end of the world, each greater, more famous and more powerful than the next. All of them were pillars of theKingdomofHeaven.
“The Master’s going to make my sons great in the Kingdom,” she would say as she sat beside Esther, and they would talk for hours about events in the world. “Yakob and Yokhanan were close to the Baptist, and they joined Yeshuah bar Yosif the moment he called them. I said at the time that Baptist’d get himself executed and the future belonged to the other, but then . . . oy, then hardly anybody paid any attention! But I can see from what people are saying that he’s the real one! But all the same my sons have taken a great risk. The Master will tell the Liberator how valuable they are. Yakob’ll be on his right in the Palace and Yokhanan on his left, because he’s the younger.”
They knew that Salome called so often because she wanted ‘a word’ with the Master about her sons. She wanted his patronage for them. It was a good idea to make sure of their places in the Palace in advance. So she took account of all the signs – never stepped on a doorstep, never got out of bed left foot first, looked to see what kinds of birds flew up first thing in the morning from left and right, behind her and in front, looked over all the rubbish carefully in case there were evil spirits lurking. She knew all the mysteries of sheep’s livers and chicken’s entrails. She could look into oil. If she spoke of something good happening she would spit under a wooden piece of furniture, and if one of her chickens made a sound that resembled crowing as it cackled she would slaughter it at once.
But all that was not enough for her. She offered all the old jewellery in her chest and the money that she kept hidden (from her husband) to the nabi’s cause, in case he needed it. Esther was afraid for her, hated her ambition and calculating pushiness.
“Of course, my dear, of course,” she would say ambiguously, “the Master’s a fair man, he doesn’t forget. He’ll remember who was the first to join him when nobody knew about him, or looked down on him, if they even did that much. He knows what they’ve given up, how much they put up with, what they go without . . . how much flour and oil people have got . . . like that poor woman whose oil Elisha increased, blessed be the memory of him.”
Salome, however, never listened to anyone else. She just went on with what she herself had to say. She dreaded Hanna. If they met in the house she would listen in silence to her outpourings, and when she had gone, say:
“She runs after the Master as well. But if he could hear what she says he’d turn every woman out of theKingdomofHeaven.”
Esther became more and more impatient, Martha more taciturn and gloomy. Her mother’s complaints, Hanna’s peevish criticisms and Salome’s inflated plans and superstitious ways made her head spin. When she looked out over the sunlit landscape from the garden, from her father’s tomb, and could not see the boat and the men she lowered her gaze, her arms hung down, she bowed her head submissively and listened to the quiet messages of the life growing in her womb. Only she could understand those messages, for the child was not yet a child, just a tiny dividing scrap, but peace came to her heart and a tear fell from her eye to her swelling young breast, a smile came to her lips and she whispered with a happy sigh:
“Who could take theKingdomofHeavenfrom me? I give thanks to you, Lord, that you have had regard to your little handmaid and blessed her!”
And she plied her hoe vigorously among the cabbages, onions, cucumbers and beetroots. From the stony hillside the stone that sealed her father’s tomb shone white, and in the bushes above it mating birds chirped and fluttered.
The news of the Master, however, was increasingly depressing. The Pharisees had soon felt the effect of his learned, pious activity. They were even stopping people in the street and arguing with them if they suspected that they were adherents of the Master or of some kind of pagan belief. They stood on street corners, bobbing their heads and praying aloud, giving alms and adding that any who did not keep the Law, the customs and the traditions would meet a dreadful fate from the Lord’s retribution. They gave good advice to the sick, consoled the sorrowful, and encouraged happy and unhappy alike with theKingdomofHeaven, but the Kingdom of the Liberator, not that of the deceiver. It would be they who, in good time, would announce where the Liberator was and what his name was. The nabi’s miracles were false, his master was Baal-Zebub, a foul pagan spirit. This was evident from the fact that he took no account of what was kosher and what was frivolous, disregarded the rules of cleanliness, befriended vile people, gorged himself and drank, encouraged his followers to abandon their old parents, helpless children and poor relations. He praised the Samaritans, with whom it was not lawful to sit at table. Oy, it was the Pharisees’ duty in every way to protect gullible people from lying dreams and filth. Indeed, what was worse still: from rebellion and the horrors of the ensuing reprisals.
The people supported willy-nilly the enlightening work of the Pharisees and Herodians. The pious Pharisees and scribes were in any case held in high esteem. Thus the fickle, who flocked to the nabi only in the excited expectation of miracles or because they hoped for some reward, were as easily dissuaded as they had lightly joined him. As soon as they heard of the miraculous cures that they were performed by the power of Baal-Zebub and not of the Lord they were overcome by terror. What if blows more dreadful than sickness fell upon them? Instead of a headache leprosy, instead of calm hellish poverty? There were two things especially that frightened people: sickness and poverty. Sickness stole the light of the Sun and deprived us of the greatest pleasures, made us a burden to others and ourselves, while poverty destroyed our dignity, reduced us to an abject condition, was fatal to our self-confidence. The rich man exposed himself to the attacks of thieves, but to resist them there were locks and weapons. Were they to run after the nabi to lose even what they had? That certain little illness, that certain slight poverty, that certain faint hope?
Those who were constant followers of the Master spread the rumours about him as they countered them. They denied them, disputed them. Steadfast men debated furiously all over the country, all the way down toJudeaand up to Gaulitis, with the timid, the stupid and those inclined to be hostile. Rumours good and bad alike about Yeshuah were carried by itinerant merchants and craftsmen, sailors and caravan drivers, and arguments broke out here, there and everywhere. Angry women would run from one house to another or chat on the lakeside as they washed laundry or scaled fish. The Pharisees had really worked on what they said, embellished it, exaggerated it. Their words were poison through and through. The women defended the Master, found fault with his opponents and each other. Why were the Pharisees constantly washing their hands? Because they were dirty. Why did they slander the Master, saying that he cured people by the power of Baal-Zebub? Because they themselves couldn’t do it even by the power of the Lord, they had no such ability. They wanted to prevent the coming at last of the day of justice and great requital. The day when all sin would be revealed.
But yet many believers that debated heatedly were afraid that the Master would suddenly change into something like a tree, a fish, a wolf or a bird. This was the work of Satan in their hearts.
One day Hanna rushed into Esther’s house even more excitedly than usual. She did not offer a greeting, but they did not even expect one. She flung herself onto a couch and tore with her fingers at her hair, which hung out from under her loose kerchief. She was out of breath and could scarcely speak, whereas at other times words poured from her like water from a broken pot.
What had happened? Had someone died? Had someone been arrested, perhaps several families? Had fire broken out in the town? Had the Zealots attacked, were they killing the wealthy and the Herodians in droves?
“Ahh,” she waved a hand dismissively and laughed coldly as if she had stepped on a snake. “Distinguished, famous, learned Pharisees have arrived fromJerusalem!”
“That’s a great honour, but what’s special about it?” Esther wondered.
Hanna laughed again.
“Don’t you see? You don’t see, then?” she shrieked, beside herself. “They’ve come to investigate the affair of Yeshuah bar Yosif! They’ve come to summon people to them, interrogate them, place them under a curse in the beth-haknesseth! Do you see? Do you see? They want to outlaw him and his friends as well . . . everybody! That’s why they’re here!”
“Adonai, help us! Blessed be thy name for ever! Most holy, have mercy!”
Esther sank onto a little low chair, her mighty bosom quivering. Martha turned pale and all but dropped a basket full of eggs. The gold ring in her nose trembled, and she pressed her right hand with the charm-ring on its little finger to her stomach. Her eyes opened wide as if she could see the Master’s injured finger, but not the healed scar but the fresh, bleeding cut.
“What are you staring at?” exclaimed Hanna testily, like a bird swooping. ‘Do you think I tell lies as well? No, no, every word’s the truth. I heard it from Judith, and she got it from her husband, and he heard from the shopher. In fact, I actually saw a scribe fromJerusalem this morning.”
Now she was gabbling, shrieking, laughing and crowing without pause.
“There, you see, that’s the Master. The miracle-worker, the healer, the proclaimer of the Good News. He couldn’t cure me. He didn’t even take any notice of me. He hated me. Despised me. He revelled in my suffering, my wretchedness. Let me change the world! I’ll make the Kingdom of Heaven into hell myself! Hahaha! Well, he was fond of you all. He’s been here eating and drinking, singing, even dancing, they say. He cured you . . . if you were sick. He looked at your daughter as if she were an Ashera who’d just come out of a tree. He even gave you an amulet so that your fishing would be successful . . . so your men don’t have to go fishing. You’ve got no trouble. But me? What about me? Oy, hahaha! And now they’re going to outlaw him.”
Esther and her daughter did not even hear Hanna’s terrible words. They just looked at her and the blood froze in their veins.
Janos Kodolanyi: I AM 