the hearing.
“In the end, the court found Father blameless, completely innocent,” he concluded. “When Herod Archelaus received the ruling from the Sanhedrin, he ordered that the soldier responsible for Father’s death should suffer further punishment and declared Father’s honor fully restored.
“So that’s the report,” said Chuza, draining his fifth cup of wine. “It’s safe for you to stay in this city, thanks to me. Our family has no ties to any rebels. But to associate with one could mean death to all of us. You understand that now, Danya?”
I nodded. Chuza’s chin dropped to his chest, and he fell asleep. Dodi darted for the crumbs that dropped from his lap.
“Please understand that your brother does care for you,” said Joanna. “Your father’s responsibilities have suddenly fallen to him, and he’s inexperienced in caring for other people.” She paused and pried the empty cup from Chuza’s hand. “He’s doing what he thinks is best, though we may not agree with all of his decisions.”
Having slept so much over the course of the last three days, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. So much had happened over the course of the last month. So many complicated, confusing, terrible things had happened. So much I couldn’t understand. Once again, I wandered sleeplessly through the house until I stood before Chuza’s writing cabinet. Perhaps someday if I had a record of the events of the last month, I would be able to sort it out and make sense of it. I took a pen, ink, and some sheets of papyrus from the cabinet, brought them to my room, dipped the pen into the inkwell, and began my account with the night of the raid.
My first sensation upon awakening that night was an unusual silence, the absence of my brother Lev’s restless sleep-breathing. His empty mat signaled that the moment had finally arrived: the raid on Sepphoris, the Roman capital city of Galilee, would take place tonight. But Lev had snuck off to join the rebels without me! I tightened the combs in my braided hair and donned the clothing I’d hidden under my mat. Disguised in the head covering and tunic of a young man, I crept by my father, sleeping in the other room, and slipped out the door. I was a swift runner; I would catch up to Lev and participate in this holy adventure with him.
I wrote all night, words tumbling out faster than I could form their shapes. Once the sheets had dried, I hid them under my sleeping platform. Feeling like I had broken a fever, I slept soundly.
* * *
I awoke late the next morning, roused finally by my anxiety about Lev. He should know that Father had died. And, if he was in Jerusalem, he needed to leave because he was putting all of us in danger. Herod Archalaus had spies everywhere, Chuza said.
Judah ben Hezekiah had said that Lev had gone to the Essenes. Perhaps Joanna knew something about them or even knew some of them. Maybe she would help me search for Lev.
I found her in the dining room, counting the soup bowls in a storage cabinet. I told her only that Lev, as far as we knew, had recently joined an Essene sect somewhere. And that I longed to see him.
“I know it would be a great consolation for you to see him, Danya. And Lev should know his father has died, but Chuza has decided not to seek him out right now.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks it would bring Lev to Jerusalem, and that Chuza’s enemies would try to link Lev to Judah ben Hezekiah, as they did with your father. Chuza would have to fight all over again, this time to prove his brother’s innocence. What if he failed?”
He probably would fail, I thought. “But if Lev is with the Essenes in Jerusalem, he would flee the city once he knew this. Then all of us would be safer,” I reasoned. “Let me look for him, please! Tell me how to find the Essenes.”
“I see what you mean. And a son should know that his father has died. There is an Essene quarter not far from here.” Joanna put the bowls back and closed the cabinet door. She explained that I couldn’t roam the streets and alleys of Jerusalem unaccompanied. That might be dangerous, and, anyway, Chuza wouldn’t permit it. But I felt that she was wavering and that I might yet persuade her when we heard heavy footsteps in the hallway outside the dining room.
“Here he is now,” said Joanna, and she began straightening the sleeves of my tunic as Chuza entered the room. “Your sister needs some clothing that fits her better and is appropriate to her station in life here,” she said. “You don’t want her looking like the poor relative from Galilee in front of our friends, do you?”
I was the poor relative from Galilee, and, though Joanna was joking, it stung a little to hear this said aloud. Chuza frowned, but Joanna persisted. “My things are too small for her, and hers are wearing out.”
“All right,” Chuza sighed. “Off to your father’s shop, but I don’t have time to accompany you. Take one of the male servants with you.”
“The servants are already overburdened with preparations for tonight’s dinner. Better not to tie one up waiting around for us. Father’s shop is close, and we’ll be safe with him.”
While Chuza considered this, Joanna shifted from one foot to the other. “Just see that the old crook doesn’t overcharge me like he usually does,” said Chuza finally.
She gave him a quick kiss. “Of course, husband. Thank you.”
After he left, I said, “Should you be doing this for me? What if Chuza finds out?
“Even if he does, which is unlikely, he’ll eventually see the propriety of it. A son should know when his father has died. Chuza believes this, but he’s not himself right now. He’s anxious because so much has changed in Jerusalem of late. Staying in favor becomes harder every day.”
Before we set out, Joanna gave detailed instructions to her servants about the dinner preparations. I admired her air of confidence as she did this. When she wasn’t with Chuza, she seemed so competent. Though she was small-boned and delicate in her mannerisms, she carried herself with authority.
Joanna knew her way around Jerusalem. Because Efron had no sons, he had schooled Joanna in his business. Before she was married, she often accompanied him on his business affairs around the city. The Essene quarter was close to her father’s shop though Joanna had rarely gone there because Essenes do not wear silk. But she assured me that they were pious, righteous people, so we would be safe among them.
A stairway at the southern edge of the Upper City brought us down to some twisting alleys and into the Essene quarter. The houses here, with their tiled roofs and plastered stone walls, were smaller but still elegant by my standards. We knocked on doors, intending to ask if anyone knew of a Lev ben Micah from Nazareth. But, in house after house, no one answered our knocking. The aroma of baking bread and grilled vegetables drew us to a long building, which turned out to be a dining hall where most of the quarter’s residents were enjoying a meal together. Men, women, and children, all dressed in white linen, stood and sang a hymn of thanks. “Thou hast redeemed my soul from the Pit, and Thou hast raised me up to everlasting height. I walk on limitless level ground . . .”
When the singing ended, the servers brought food to their tables, and all eyes turned to us. Joanna stated our business to one of their leaders. He went from table to table asking if anyone had heard of a new member named Lev, from Nazareth. But, even in this large group, no one had heard of him. They suggested we try the monastery in Qumran, whose ranks grew daily with young men from all over the country. But Qumran was more than a half day’s walk from Jerusalem, and it would be impossible for us to go there. Another of their leaders suggested we write
