Hunting Midnight by Richard Zimler Read Free Book Online Page B

door. Her puffy eye was bruised blue and yellow and had nearly closed. She walked with a limp. Two of her ribs had been broken and she breathed with noticeable pain as well. Remaining in the doorway, she thanked Daniel for coming to her rescue. He received her thanks with a downcast gaze, worried that his knowledge of their kinship might overwhelm him should he look her directly in the eye.
    He would later tell me, “My heart was thumping so hard I could hardly hear a thing. But you’d have been proud of me, John, I didn’t make a single peep. And I didn’t ask her for nothing. What would have been the good of asking, anyway? Things’ll always be like they are.”
    When Senhora Beatriz left, he started carving again, using his knife with such force that he made a deep gouge in his woodpecker’s tail.
    *
    At home I discovered my mother and grandmother embroidering in our sitting room. Grandmother Rosa smothered me in her perfumed bosom, then asked after my new friend’s father, plainly intending to evaluate his station in life. Mama gave me a sidelong glance to say, Let me handle this. I begged her permission to leave, then ran to my room.
    From many such experiences of my childhood, I learned that Mama wished to keep me away from her mother. In addition, I almost never saw her two elder brothers, though they lived only thirty miles away in Aveiro.
    When she came to kiss me good night, I asked her to stay for a moment and to close the door. “Grandmother is still here and has fine hearing,” I whispered.
    Mama covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. After easing the door closed, she sat by me and placed her hand on my chest.
    My agitation banished all possibility of tact. “Are we Jews, Mama?”
    “Goodness! Where did that little cannonball come from?”
    “Something happened today.”
    “What? Tell me, John.”
    “There was a man preaching in New Square. He came to talk to Daniel and me. And he said that … that we were Jews.”
    “You and Daniel? He said you and Daniel were Jews? How odd!”
    “No, you, Papa, and I. Mama, he knew our names.”
    She gasped. “Who was he? Did you find out his name?”
    “Lourenço. He did not tell me his family name. I saw him once before. Then he had long oily hair and wore a horrid cape. But this time he was changed. He wore expensive clothes. And his hair was brushed. I think he’s a magician. Or a necromancer. He did tricks.”
    “John, he didn’t hurt you or Daniel, did he?” she asked anxiously.
    “No, but he said you ought to take me away from here – to Scotland.”
    “How perfectly odd. And what did you say?”
    “I said I was Portuguese – and that I was born here.”
    “Good for you. And then?”
    I sat up. “And then Daniel told him to leave, but he wouldn’t go. He said we would be burnt. He even held out a lighted candle to us.”
    She sprang up and clasped her cheeks, closing her eyes. “Goodness, oh, my goodness …”
    “And, Mama, he put a tiny finch in his mouth. He was going to bite its head off.”
    Taking out her silk scarf, she reached out to the wall, then dabbed at her forehead. I rushed to her and led her back to my bed. After a time, she regained her composure and caressed my hair.
    “Mama, we’re not going to be burnt, are we?”
    “No, of course not.” She frowned and shook her head. “He was a silly man. He was trying to frighten you. Some men like scaring children. They are wobbly in the head.” She took my hand. “So what’s this about a bird in his mouth?”
    “He must have bought it at the market. And he put it in his mouth when we weren’t looking. He was going to bite its head off, but then he let it fly away.”
    “Yes, well, it just proves that such men will do anything to frighten a child. Please, John, think no more of this. Let me do the worrying for us both. And if you see him again, you must run directly home, just as your father has told you. Do not dawdle or linger – not for anything. Now come, get back