The Orchard by Yochi Brandes

Author:Yochi Brandes
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Gefen Publishing House
Published: 2018-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

1

It has been three years since I began my life of seclusion in this cave. I have stayed alive only so that I could write this book. In two weeks, I will deposit it into Miriam’s steadfast hands. I have not summoned her before now. When she gave birth I turned away, for I could not bear to look upon the child.

The smell of the loose dirt coils around my neck. I try to scream. The howl that bursts from my throat is swallowed up by the knocking sounds of the grave diggers at work. Hannah collapses onto the muddy ground, her hands grasping the wooden coffin. Her face wears no expression, the well of her tears having dried up during the days of your illness. But Beruriah and Berahia have been weeping for two days already, ever since the doctor closed your eyes and slipped out of the house. Sarah hugs their shoulders and glares resentfully at the handful of neighbors standing to the side. Only a very few have come to accompany you on your final journey. You were alone while you lived, and you are alone in your death.

The gravediggers bend over the coffin. Hannah loosens her grip. They place you inside the grave. My feet are dragged forward, step after step, but before I can get to you, I hear thunder behind me, and the sound of a roar. A huge mob surges toward me – a great and mighty throng of people, uncountable, more than the sand which is upon the seashore. We’ll be trampled by them.

The sea of humanity divides down the middle, as if an invisible hand has raised the staff of God over it. Two living walls stand opposite your grave in long columns going so far back that their ends cannot be seen. One is on your right, and one is on your left, and in the space between the two of them a large carriage approaches.

A figure can be seen through the window. A blue mitre, a brown cloak, a grey beard. The carriage stops. The door opens. He climbs down and turns his face to me.

The wrinkles have etched themselves more deeply across his forehead. His heavy palms poke out from the cloak.

I turn my back on him and continue walking toward you.

Dozens of men race toward me from out of the human walls. They shove me angrily, scream reprimands at me. “Stand aside, woman! Make way!”

I hear his voice from behind me, quiet and restrained.

“Leave her be.”

The mob grows silent all once.

I fall on my face and kiss the clods of your dirt.

“O my son Simeon, my son, my son, Simeon! would God I had died for thee, O Simeon, my son, my son!”

2

My clothes are torn. Ash covers my head. Kalba Savua enters the room, shaking and wailing. “Rachel, my daughter, I have sinned, I have committed iniquity, I have transgressed. I didn’t see what you saw. Rabbi Akiva, my son-in-law, it is my wish that you annul my vow.

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