The Missing Madonna, Chapter 20 "Destination Reached"

When I awoke the next morning, I found everyone else was nearly ready. Joseph had fed Joshua some bread and figs and had let me lie, because, he said, “You looked so peaceful there with a big smile on your lips. I hadn’t the heart to wake you, but we need to get moving soon.”

Philip and Dora were already packing their things and Martha came looking for me. I fed Joshua quickly while Martha shared my lap, then we were on our way once more.

“You look radiant this morning,” says Dora looking at me with something that appears to be a tinge of jealousy in her eyes. She winks at me. I’m sure she thinks Joseph has just been the loving husband. Not much room to do that sort of thing in our restricted space, certainly not with Joshua crammed up against us. I suddenly realise that I don’t feel sick. Usually by this time the nausea is welling within me even if I’m not actually physically sick.

I look up at the friendly palms. They are absolutely still this morning. There is not a breath of wind. The horizon inland is already shimmering in the heat. Only the line of the land against the sky toward the sea is clear and distinct. I strain to look in that direction and imagine I can see the sea, hear the waves, but I think it is just my mirage. I must get on and cease my daydreaming. Joshua is making a nuisance of himself getting in the way of Philip who is leading their donkey. I must pull him away from the animal’s legs before he gets kicked.

Dora tries to engage me in conversation as we walk, but I’m only half listening. The euphoria of last night has not yet evaporated and I can’t tell her. I wish I could but Joseph has said no, and I must try to submit to his instructions even if they’re hard. He doesn’t often make demands on me like some men I know. I don’t think Philip is like that either, I haven’t heard him speak a harsh word to Dora or his children since we met them. Dora is telling me about her pregnancy with Simeon and the pleasure of her parents when they found he was a boy. I find myself telling her about my pregnancy now and immediately she shows some excitement and quizzes me about all the telltale signs, when I last had my period, how sick I’ve been and when the baby is due.

She asks me what we are going to call the child although Joseph and I haven’t even discussed that yet. I’ll let Joseph choose – he had no say at all about Joshua’s name because I was so sure that was what we had to call him. It was his idea to use the ‘Joshua’ form of ‘Yahoshua’ though – more common and the boy wouldn’t feel so conspicuous using the less archaic name. It’s all the same anyway so I’m sure it doesn’t matter. When she’s extracted from me everything I know – and more – we walk in silence. She keeps glancing at me as though she now worries about my state and the strenuous marches each day towards the big city. I look back at her and grin. I’m stronger than she thinks. After what I went through with Joshua’s pregnancy and survived, this should cause few problems.

And so we continued our journey together each day. We grew totally accustomed to each other’s presence. It was as if Dora and Philip and their children were part of our family now. Joseph and Philip seemed totally relaxed with each other. They didn’t argue or dispute over anything. Even our children played together without any childish squabbles or tantrums. Both Martha and Joshua were gentle with Simeon and when we stopped, spent ages trying to amuse him by pulling faces and making gurgling sounds at him and tickling him.

“Not too rough,” I would admonish, but my words were really unnecessary for they both had an inherent tenderness when they played with him. Martha would sing and Joshua would try too. I thought once or twice that he’d picked up the tune Martha was singing, then his voice would trail off and he’d laugh and look at Martha or me for approval.

Dora was delighted. It made her job so much easier when the two older children kept Simeon amused and in good temper. Of course we got tired and hot, but we had frequent rests and stopped each day to let the children sleep in the hottest part of the afternoon. We didn’t always find an ideal site and on one occasion we had to put up the tents on a bank beside the road and tolerate the lack of shade but usually we found somewhere more suitable. We took longer than Joseph had predicted. I suppose we were slower as a group as we moved at the pace of the slowest. Dora let Joshua ride on their donkey with Martha sometimes while she carried Simeon. I offered to carry him sometimes but Dora pointed at my belly and laughed. She needn’t be so solicitous for me. If we had been on our own I think Joseph would have been impatient at our rate of progress, but we were frugal with our money and spent just enough each day to meet our minimum food requirements and no more. Philip and Dora were equally careful. I’m sure they had more cash than us but they were careful not to buy loads of things that they knew we could not afford.

One evening, after we’d pitched camp and I’d returned with water for both families while Dora looked after all the children, Joseph looked animated and when I placed the pitcher on the ground, he spoke.

“We’re nearly there, Mari. We met some merchants coming from Alexandria who paused here for a short while to adjust the loads on their beasts and they said that the outer gate of the city is but a half day’s march away. We should be in the city by tomorrow evening.”

A moment of uncertainty and even fear overtook me for a moment. I’d got used to the daily routine of travelling. We were with friends. We felt safe. We felt in control. What awaited us in Alexandria? Would we be disappointed? Would we find the things that we anticipated were wrong? Would we find ourselves in slums rejected by the city inhabitants as we’d experienced in Pelusium? Why am I always asking so many questions, I ask myself. Why, I’m even asking a question then! I must trust God. Each night I’ve slipped out of the tent to share time with God. I’ve not had that feeling of exuberance again, but I’ve felt an inner peace and gone back to sleep dreamlessly. I’ve not felt sick any more. If Philip and Joseph are nervous about what lies ahead of us, they are not showing it. So I stay quiet and say nothing.

We haven’t seen any sign of the city yet when we stop for our midday rest. It is hotter than ever, as each day brings us nearer to the zenith of the summer. Philip and Joseph chide us to move on after our shortest break yet, they want to be in the city with plenty of daylight still left. It is another couple of hours though before we spy the ramparts in the distance. There are villages and roadside shacks lining the highway almost continuously now and some men have stalls of fruit or cloth and bid us buy, but we don’t heed them. It is becoming clear that we will not reach the main gate until it is nearly dark and Philip and Joseph confer and tell us that we should try to find a secure resting place and enter the city first thing in the morning to give ourselves all day to find our way around and fix a temporary dwelling place.

In view of our experience in the approach to Pelusium which I know Joseph has shared with Philip, they are insistent that we find as safe a place as possible. I don’t think they trust some of the traders and other people we’ve seen hanging about the highway now. There are soldiers about, I don’t think anyone would attempt a major robbery but I could imagine we might lose some belongings while we slept. Then we find a small lake on the marine side of the road and see a number of tents set up around its edge. I expect they’re people who’ve had the same concerns as us and are waiting for the morning before entry. By joining them I feel at least that we have some sense of security and are unlikely to be singled out for attention by people intent on harming us.

That night I see Joseph counting the money we have left. We haven’t much, I think he’s concerned in case the officials at the gate charge us more tax than we can afford. Philip apparently has said that they only charge tax on goods being brought in for sale or barter and not for our own use, but you never can be sure. Tomorrow is going to be a big day and I’m restless and can’t get to sleep quickly for once. Joseph keeps turning over also and in the confined space keeps bringing me back to a state of alertness when I was beginning to feel drowsy. I suspect he’s not sleeping properly either although he doesn’t let on. Joshua however has no cares and sleeps well now going through the night quite often without waking hungry. I’m both excited and nervous. I suppose I eventually sleep but I dream a lot although I’ve already forgotten the substance being left with a vague sense of unease.

We are just one of the many groups making our way in the morning towards the imposing Canopic Gate (I didn’t know that is what it was called then, but of course I found out later). It is the only gate facing east to which the Roman highway comes directly. On our right after the small lake is a grove of trees that lies outside the city walls and a large crowd is assembling around the Gate itself seeking entrance to the city. The walls are high and obscure most of the buildings inside, but there is one staggering edifice that towers over the city, its white surface glinting in the morning sun, its topmost point glowing a dull red. It’s huge even though it must be some distance away and I’m awestruck. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even the Temple in Jerusalem.

“What’s that building?” I cry out pointing. “Look Joshua, look at that. What is it, Joseph?”

Joseph is as astonished as I am and Philip comes to our rescue.

“It’s the famous lighthouse, the ‘Pharos’, the tallest building in the world. You can see the light at the top. Its purpose is to guide ships into the harbour, large ships that come from Rome and all its colonies.”

I hold Joshua up to see, although I don’t think he’s as impressed as I am, as he’s much more interested in the crowds of animals congregating round the gateway, especially the number of camels that are being forced to kneel so that their masters can dismount.

“We’ll go and see it one day, Joshua. It seems to go right up to the sky. This must be a very rich city to have something like that.”

We cling to each other in the throng, fearful of losing our children in the crush of those waiting to enter the Gate, being knocked and barged out of the way by men and beasts coming out. It’s a big muddle and the only way forward seems to push and shove like everyone else. Then a couple of Roman soldiers emerge and try to create some sort of order and I grab Joshua before he can escape again. Martha is frightened and is clinging to her mother’s hem and Simeon is whimpering. At last we are at the Gate itself and find ourselves being questioned by a couple of very officious looking men in some sort of uniform.

I don’t understand what they’re saying at first. I recognize some Greek and then they realise that we’re Jews and revert to our language. I’m beginning to wish they hadn’t for what they’re saying to us is not very nice. One oath follows another and I wish I could stop Joshua’s ears as I don’t want him being curious about some of those words. They’re cursing the Jews and I catch the gist. They don’t want us here, they obviously believe they have too many Jews already.

“Why do you want to come here? What’s your business?”

Joseph and Philip explain that they’re skilled artisans come to help with construction work in the city, but the officials ask them who they will work for and which building they are contracted to, and of course they can’t answer that. They ask to see the men’s tools but Joseph has nothing to show because they were stolen in Pelusium, however Philip still has his equipment and he manages to unpack some carpentry tools from the bags on the donkey’s back and the official grunts.

“How many women and children?”

They peer at Dora and me and Martha tries to hide behind her mother. Joshua is unabashed and gives them a beautiful smile, oblivious of the contempt they seem to feel for us. In the end they seem to give up, one of them even gives Joshua a playful tug and we are waved forward.

“Stay in the Jewish quarter of the city unless you are an approved contracted worker. Have you lodgings?”

Philip says that we will stay with friends. I’m sure that’s a lie, he hasn’t said he knows anyone here previously. He later explains that if we can’t demonstrate where we will stay there’s a risk we would not be allowed in. It was all a bit unpleasant and a rude shock after things had been going so well, but at least we’re now through the Gate and they made no attempt to try to charge us anything. The highway widens out into a broad avenue with a watercourse running beside the road and stretches as far as the eye can see. Dominating the view to the north west of the city is the lighthouse which seems even larger now the bottom of the structure is not obscured by the city wall. Both sides of the highway are narrow streets leading off at right angles, all dead straight and all looking exactly the same.

“I think this is the Jewish area,” says Philip. “I was told that it’s in eastern part of the city and that the Jewish houses are around a series of roads that criss-cross each other. We’d better look for the synagogue and see if anyone there can give us advice.”

I couldn’t see any building that looked like a synagogue. I’d imagined the Jewish quarter to be a small settlement that we’d soon be able to find our way around, but if this is all the Jewish area, it’s huge, stretching as far as I can see in all directions. What do we do now?

Philip and Joseph are asking the way from various bystanders and I can see arms waved in the general direction of the south. We’d been walking slowly towards the centre of the city – at least following the main avenue – and we came to a canal which passed under the roadway. It looked sluggish and oily and smelt unpleasant, I guess much sewage finds its way there. The city odours are strong but not as bad as in the area we inhabited in Pelusium.

“Down here I think he said,” opines Philip to anyone who is listening and we follow him into one of the narrow streets lined with simple houses, where many women are busying themselves emptying slops into the drainage ditch that follows the contour of the street.

“Is this the way to the synagogue?” he calls out to a group of women and they point in the direction that we are going, confirming that we have got it right. It seems very crowded. It doesn’t look to me like the prosperous community I’d been led to expect. We continue down the roadway and keep passing intersecting alleyways narrower even than the road we are in. The city must be huge for we’ve been walking now for nearly half an hour. We eventually see a white walled building at the end of a row of dwellings, larger and grander than those we’ve passed. It must be the synagogue.

We halt outside. It is shut up. The men walk round looking for an open entrance. Dora and I and the children sit on the steps and wait. People are passing to and fro, but none are taking any notice of us. They all seem to be Jews, I hear the odd snatch of conversation, but some must be Greek-speaking despite their appearance. I do catch odd words of Aramaic but the accent seems harsh and I only understand the occasional word. Joseph and Philip come back, shaking their heads. They confirm that the synagogue is closed, something I find unusual and worrying, as by this time in Bethlehem the synagogue would be a hive of activity with boys streaming in for their schooling. Perhaps it is earlier than I thought.

Philip stops one of the pedestrians, a man walking purposefully towards the city centre and comes back to say that the synagogue staff will not come until later as the school is closed today for it is some Egyptian festival and the Jews respect the customs of the native Egyptians – apparently they do not want to cause offence to the citizens of their host country. I’ve always been taught that we Jews do not bow to the religions of other races – it’s a theme that comes through the writings of the prophets that I learned from Joel in the synagogue in Nazareth. The Jews here must be very nervous of the Egyptians or else they’ve been corrupted and seduced into the ways of the Gentiles – I can just imagine what Uncle Eli would have to say about that.

So we have to wait. We can’t think of what else to do. We’ve got no contacts here. There is no obvious place to start looking for a way to begin our life here, apart from in this building. The children are getting bored. They’d run round for a while, chasing each other, then Martha had tripped and cried and Joshua had come back, climbed on my lap and needed a cuddle. They’d got a new burst of energy for a while, but the sun was now high and the shade given by the building had all but disappeared. They were hot and fractious and I wondered how much longer we’d have to wait. I began to fear that perhaps the synagogue would stay closed all day, then what would we do?

Eventually our patience is rewarded. A rabbi wanders up, gives us a fleeting glance and unlocks the heavy doors to the small courtyard and we follow him in. Joseph immediately asks if we can speak with him, but he tells us to wait and disappears into the main edifice of the synagogue. Another rabbi appears soon afterwards and follows him in, giving us just a surreptitious glance as he passes us. Our waiting continues, until eventually the second rabbi reappears and comes up to us and asks us what we want. Before we can answer, he looks at the children and suddenly scoops Joshua up and stares at him. I think Joshua is a bit frightened at first at the sudden movement of the man who is staring fixedly into Joshua’s eyes. Then Joshua relaxes and chuckles at the rabbi, whose face softens and returns Joshua’s grin.

“Well, you’ve a bonny lad there, a bit special, I think. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

Philip and Joseph tell him of our predicament. He questions us for a long time. He wants to know where we are from. When Joseph says we are from Bethlehem – he seems more ready to admit that now – the rabbi seems to increase his interest and asks us to calculate when we left that village. Then he starts talking about King Herod and the politics and I’m beginning to worry that perhaps after all Joseph was unwise to say where we had come from. The rabbi just keeps nodding as Joseph and Philip talk and all the time he is watching Joshua who is back in my arms. He seems to ignore Dora’s two children. She must be feeling a little hurt that he is so taken with Joshua and is ignoring her own children. I put Joshua down and draw little Martha to me and give her a cuddle and look to see if the rabbi will redirect his attention to us, but his eyes are following Joshua’s movements all the time he is listening to our husbands.

He finally holds up his hand to interrupt the continuing saga that the men are expounding, and says:

“I think I can help you. It will not be all that easy for you, but if you are skilled craftsmen as you claim, you will find work, but you’ll need to seek support among the Gentiles here. There is a lot of new building work for which labour is in short supply, but it’s mainly at the instigation of the Roman occupying force. I trust you will not find that unacceptable. We Jews have to adapt to the ways here if we want to survive and prosper. We have our own community and you will find that we can treasure our customs and culture in this Jewish city enclave but we are dependent for our prosperity on the goodwill and opportunities allowed us by the Greeks and Arabs and especially the Romans who’ve been in charge here this last generation. You’ll find some of the works where you might find employment strange to Jewish eyes and not what you think we should be doing. However, you have young children to nurture and their future and wellbeing must come first. Accept what is necessary even if sometimes it might offend your consciences. Abide your time – we Jews are good at waiting. The day will come…”

The rabbi suddenly looks hard at Joshua again. It gives me a funny feeling, a tingling in my spine. I shudder involuntarily. I think of what some of those men said when Joshua was born and the strange visit of the rich sheiks from Babylon. I know of course, I’ve always known, but has this rabbi suspected something? He is looking at me now as if he knows my secret.

“Now,” he says, “let’s see what we can do for this family of yours!” And he gives the boy a playful shove and a big wink…