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More than anyone knew.
Still—
“Your grandfather kept a great secret,” Zachariah said to her. “One important to all of us.”
“But opening his coffin? Is that the only way?”
“What lies with him is vital, Alle. He was the Levite. Not of the house of Levi, but chosen for a duty and called a Levite. One of only a few men since the time of Columbus who knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
She’d listened to what he had to say, and finally agreed that opening the grave was the only way.
“Jews around the world will sing your praise,” Zachariah said. “What has lain hidden for nearly two thousand years will once again see the light of day. Our prophecies will be fulfilled. And all thanks to you.”
She’d never dreamed that she would be in such a unique position. Her new religion, her adopted heritage—those meant something to her, as they had to her grandfather. To help that, in any way, would be important.
“His grave must be opened,” she told Brian.
He shook his head. “You’re a foolish woman. And you speak of your father as a problem. He’s an unwilling participant. You’re not.”
“And who are you? Why does any of this matter?”
“Unlike you, I actually have a grip on reality. Zachariah Simon is an extremist. And those are a problem to us all.”
Her gaze drifted past Brian, toward the café’s front door.
Rócha and Midnight burst inside.
Brian caught sight of them, too, and stood from the table. “Time for me to go.”
Zachariah’s men marched over.
Brian brushed past them.
Rócha grabbed Brian’s jacket. Two men at one of the other tables immediately stood, obviously with Brian. Rócha seemed to assess the situation and released his grip.
“Smart move,” Brian said to him, and he and his two compatriots left.
“Who was that?” she asked Rócha.
“You tell me. You are the one eating with him.”
“He forced himself on me. Called himself Brian.”
“You must stay away from him.”
That drew her interest. “Why?”
Irritation swept across Rócha’s tanned face. “We must go.”
“I’m staying.”
He grasped her arm. Hard. Lifting her from the chair.
“Get your hand off me or I’ll scream.”
“We have to go,” he said, his voice softening. “It’s for your own safety.”
He was serious, she could see.
“Who was that guy?” she asked again.
“A problem. One Mr. Simon must know about immediately.”
———
TOM LAY ON HIS BED, FULLY CLOTHED. THIS MORNING HE’D DECIDED to die. Now, tomorrow, he would see a body.
Quite a reversal.
“He’ll come around,” Michele said to him. “He’s your father. He loves you. He’ll eventually understand that you have to make your own choices, even when it comes to religion.”
“You don’t know Abiram. He’s made his choice. It’s my call now. I have to make the next move.”
“Why do you call him by his first name? He’s your father.”
“It started in college, when we began to drift apart. It gives me … some distance.”
“He’s still your father.”
He shrugged. “He’s only Abiram to me.”
She hugged him. “I don’t agree with how this has evolved, but I love you for doing this. Giving up your faith is a big deal.”
“If this makes you happy, then I’m happy.”
She kissed him.
They’d been married for less than a year.
“I have some news,” she said.
He stared into her eyes.
“You’re going to be a father, too.”
Eight months later Alle was born. What a beautiful child. For the first few years of her life she’d meant the world to him, then the world began to mean more. His time away grew longer until he was gone far more than he was there. Temptations started presenting themselves and he’d succumbed. What had he been thinking? That’s just it. He hadn’t thought.
And Abiram. A Levite?
He remembered Deuteronomy, Moses’ blessing to the Israelites.
About Levi, he said of his father and mother, “I have no regard for them.” He did not recognize his brothers or acknowledge his own children, but he watched over your word and guarded your covenant. He teaches your precepts to Jacob and your law to Israel. He offers incense before you and whole burnt offerings on your altar.
Amazing he still remembered the words, but Abiram had been relentless in his teachings. He also recalled that, after the sin of the Golden Calf, when the Israelites wrongly worshiped a false idol, Levites, who’d abstained from that act, were chosen to serve the Temple.
But how did any of that relate to Abiram?
Never had anyone in his family ever mentioned that their Jewish roots came from the Levites.
Until Tom reached high school he and Abiram had been close. Being an only child came with the advantage—and disadvantage—of constant parental attention. During his teenage years they began to drift apart. The gap widened in college. Meeting Michele and falling in love finally confirmed what he already knew.
He was not a Jew.
No matter his birth, heritage, custom, or duty.
None of it meant anything to him.
His mother had tried to persuade him otherwise. Perhaps she knew what her husband would do. But Tom had not been convinced. So he renounced his birthright and, to please his new wife, became a Christian. For a few years he, Michele, and Alle attended Episcopal services. That happened less and less as he traveled more and more. Eventually, he realized Christianity meant nothing to him, either. He just wasn’t spiritual.
Chalk that up as another failure.
“Patch things up with your father,” Michele said to him.
“It’s too late for that.”
“I’m out of the picture. We’re divorced. He should be happy with that.”
“It’s not that simple with Abiram.”
“He never cared for me, Tom. We both know that. He resented that you were baptized and blamed me. He only cares for Alle. That’s all.”
Maybe not, he thought.
He may have cared for something no one ever realized.
Son, I kept a great deal to myself.
Things that would surprise you.
Now I take those secrets with me to my grave.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ZACHARIAH WAS READY FOR REST. TOMORROW COULD BE THE day he’d been waiting for all of his life. Had he found the Levite? The keeper of the secret? Finally, after five hundred years?
Columbus had been a clever one, that he’d give him.
In 1504 the admiral returned to Spain from his fourth and final voyage, spending the next two years trying to force Ferdinand and Isabella to honor their promises. In 1506 he died and his sons assumed the cause. When they died, it remained for one of their widows to finally make a deal with the Crown, one that gave the Columbus family total control over Jamaica for the next 150 years.
Luis de Torres, Columbus’ Hebrew interpreter on the first voyage, never returned to Europe.
He stayed.
And for good reason.
