Zaddik by David Rosenbaum

Author:David Rosenbaum [Rosenbaum, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9781631940392
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2018-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39 The Seer’s Hoyf

Lublin

Wednesday, October 13

IN THE MARKET square Hirsh Leib, his head throbbing and his body aching, bought a citron and the sheaf of bound palm, myrtle, and willow branches with which one celebrates the holiday of Sukkos. They were expensive—the merchant swore that they came all the way from the Holy Land—but they were perfect: the citron without blemish; the leaves fresh and green. Hirsh Leib brought the willow up to his face, its sweet, earthy odor helping him to clear his head. He sniffed the citron, then placed them all in his saddlebag and rode out of the noisy market toward the Seer’s hoyf.

Last night Hirsh Leib had fallen asleep by the banks of the river. After awakening, he had gone to the public bathhouse on Tanner Street, where he’d washed, put on his tefillin, and prayed. From there, he’d gone to Neshe’s for a glass of tea, some black bread with salt, a slice of onion, and a small glass of sweet brandy. By the time he had left the market, his hands had stopped shaking and the storm in his soul had begun to pass.

Riding down the Old Road, Hirsh Leib told himself that brooding on his sins would only make him their captive. You stir filth, he thought, and what do you get? Stirred filth. Is it not written, “Depart from evil and do good?” You have done wrong, Hirsh Leib? Well, then, balance it by doing right. Is this not the message of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement? The gates of repentance are always open.

At that moment Hirsh Leib saw an elderly Jew with a beard the color of tin sitting in the dust by the side of the road. He was dressed as a peasant in rough clothes, a leather cap, and old, cracked boots. Hirsh Leib reined his horse and called to him.

“Are you all right, Rabbi?”

“If I were all right, would I be sitting here in the dust? I am old, and I am exhausted from my travels,” said the old man.

“Are you going to see the Seer?”

“Are you a melamed?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because like a melamed, like a teacher of idiot children, you ask stupid questions instead of helping.”

“Come, Rabbi, you can ride with me.”

“You call that help? If I could lift myself up to walk, why would I need you?”

Hirsh Leib dismounted, stroked his horse’s neck, told him to stay, and walked over to where the old man sat. He lifted him up by his elbows, feeling the man’s bones beneath the thin material of his black coat and the even thinner material of his flesh.

“You’re hurting me,” the old man whined. “What’s the matter with you? You don’t know your own strength?”

Hirsh Leib apologized, thinking, This is a sour one; look at his eyes. They were so red, it was if he had a fever. The old man took a deep breath, and with the Zaddik of Orlik’s right arm around his waist, he shuffled toward Hirsh Leib’s horse.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.