The Missing Madonna, Chapter 21/1 "Life in Alexandria"

I’m sitting in the doorway of our little house rocking James in my arms. He’ll be a year old next week. Time seems to have flown so quickly yet so much has happened – it seems an age since we lived in Bethlehem and my life in Nazareth seems worlds away. Joshua has gone with Dora and Martha into the market and Simeon is playing quietly in the roadway in front of me where I can keep an eye on him. Baby Sarah is asleep in her cradle – Dora has left her with me while she is in the city.

My mind is wandering as I laze here in the shadow of my home. Simeon is quite safe, this alleyway is too narrow for much through traffic and I can see clearly in both directions for all the streets and alleys in this city are dead straight. The boy will get dirty playing in the street, but Dora and I have given up trying to keep them clean each day. We are resigned to the constant need to wash their clothes to remove the stains from the dust and filth that this city seems to exude everywhere. No-one seems to clean up the muck from the animals and slops although I try to keep the area in front of my own house as clean as possible.

I say my own house – it’s not really ours, we rent it from the synagogue for the rabbis there administer a large number of dwellings whose profits help to maintain the buildings and the rituals and I’m sure pay the rabbis themselves, as they do not seem to want for much. When we first came here they forced a couple of families to move in together so that Philip’s family and we could find somewhere jointly to live. It was very crowded and I felt bad about the other two families who had to move to make room for us, but we were pretty desperate and the rabbis were insistent.

I quickly learned that the decisions of the rabbis counted for everything in the Jewish community here and little happened without their permission and support. Joseph told me that there is a council of elders for most important decisions affecting our race, but decisions about things like housing seems to rest with the rabbis of our local synagogue. The big synagogue is the other side of Canopic Street – I think the council must meet there, but we don’t have anything to do with them. The richest Jews seem to go there.

We have our own place now, it used to belong to a couple but the husband was killed in an accident in the royal harbour and the widow was persuaded by the rabbis to move in with one of her sons and his family. The rabbi Malthus, who was the one which met us on our first day here, seems to have had a soft spot for us and has fallen over backwards to give us every opportunity to prosper. He found work for both Philip and Joseph together in the construction of new villas in the Rhakotis area for Roman officers and officials on the far side of the city. It takes them a long time each day – it’s nearly an hour’s walk to the site of their labour. They work long hours as they’re under pressure to finish their work and move on to the next villa. Apparently there are Romans queuing up for transfer from Rome to this city for they find the trade here so profitable and that part of the city near the sea and the royal palace is very pleasant.

Dora lives in the next street to us, still in the small house we were allocated at first. When this slightly larger house became available, I argued that it was only fair for Dora and Philip to have it as they had two children already and a third on the way, but the rabbi had decided we should move and that was that. This is a better house, I’ll admit that, and there is more room, but I feel guilty sometimes that we should be so favoured. I’m surprised Dora and Philip aren’t jealous or resentful, but they seem unaffected and count us still as their best friends although we’ve both extended our contacts and acquaintances to many families in the neighbourhood.

We all go to the synagogue every Sabbath and Dora and I stay with the children in the Women’s Court, just like we do back at home, but most of the priests here seem to gabble through the rituals as though their heart is not in it and they want to finish as quickly as possible. Afterwards, though, everyone hangs around for a long time and gossips – it seems more of a social occasion. Only when Malthus teaches do I feel that he is believing what he says – for the others it seems just words. Sometimes I hardly recognise the faith I was taught back in Nazareth. They use a lot of Greek words and seem keen to emphasise how similar our religion is to that believed by the Greek philosophers. It seems odd to me and Joseph shakes his head sometimes but we do keep all the Jewish festivals.

However, several times recently Malthus has talked about the coming of the promised Messiah. He almost appears to be courting danger by being outspoken, for he prophesies the end of both Egyptian and Roman rule. I hope he checks that there are no spies in our gathering, for what he says must be considered provocative in this city. Anyway he’s got away with it so far. He still makes a point of seeking us out afterwards and giving Joshua his blessing. Other people stare at us then and wonder what our connection is with the rabbi. I’ve been asked several times if we’re related.

I nearly blurted out the truth once for I’ve become increasingly certain that Malthus has guessed our secret. Dora hasn’t usually said anything about his apparent favouritism, but one day after the Sabbath meeting when Malthus had taken the scrolls and interpreted from the writings of the prophet Isaiah, she commented that the rabbi seemed to be staring at us while he was saying that the prophet was describing the character of the Messiah to come. Joshua had pushed himself to the front and was peering through the grill, so Malthus could see him and suddenly the rabbi almost shouted that the time was coming soon. Everyone started from their reveries and some looked quite shocked and Dora asked me if I knew why he seemed so certain. I almost told her then everything that had been promised to us and just stopped myself in time. Surely Malthus can’t know anything, can he? He just seems to like Joshua and think him special.

Well, even though I say so myself, he is special. Even if you were unaware of all the promises and miracles we’ve experienced so far, you’d notice Joshua was an exceptional little boy. His vocabulary for a three year old is remarkable – he seems at least as fluent as the five year old Martha to whom he is very attached. And Malthus has even begun to teach him a few Greek words when we see him and more remarkably, Joshua remembers them. I’ve noticed too how all the other children seem to flock round Joshua and laugh at his antics. Some of the older ones seem to enjoy asking him lots of questions. I thought they were teasing him at first, but he always gives them answers and sometimes the other children break into roars of laughter and other times I can see that they’re astonished at his replies. I do find him very demanding – he exhausts me sometimes. It’s not his physical energy – he’s just the same as any other little boy of his age. It’s just that he’s so inquisitive, his mind never seems to let up for a minute. I can’t ever switch off and relax except when he’s asleep or off with Dora and Martha, as he is now.

Last week he asked me who God was. He must have heard the rabbi talking about God in his address and he kept asking me. I tried to think how I could explain to him, how I could make him understand. I told him God made everything and he promptly spent the next two days pointing to every object that came into his view and asking, “Did God make that?” The stars and sky were easy but he pointed to our house and wanted to know if God built it and when I said that a builder had made the bricks and put them together, he asked me again that if God made everything, didn’t our house count? I replied that God gave men the skills that enabled houses to be built and he said no more then – I’m not sure if he bought that argument. The river was easy but when he pointed to the canal, I said that men had dug the banks but God had put the water in it. When he pointed to the drainage ditch that ran along our alleyway with its sludge and waste, I felt on unsure grounds as I couldn’t really ascribe to God the creation of such filth and disgusting excreta of men and animals.

Then one day, he asked “Did God make me?” and I answered yes, but with a little help from your mama too. “And Papa? “ he asked. Surely he’s not been hearing the other children talking about the way babies are made? We’ll have to watch our words carefully if he’s around because he seems to pick up everything and absorbs it into his mind for brooding over.

I haven’t said, have I, that there are periods when he seems to just stare fixedly at something as though his mind is far away. Sometimes it can go on for several minutes – it’s quite disturbing really. The first time it happened, I thought he’d had a fit and I got really alarmed. I waved my hands in front of his face and he didn’t appear to even notice. I picked him up and touched his face and still he was lost in thought. Then, just as I was panicking and determined to seek out Dora and ask for her help, he suddenly clicked out of his seeming trance and carried on as if nothing had happened. Dora doesn’t seem to notice. I think she’s just too busy all the time trying to keep an eye on her children to worry overmuch about mine. She’s just got Martha with her now, I wonder what Joshua will get up to in the market.

James has woken up. He’ll be wanting a feed soon. At least he seems a perfectly normal little boy. He doesn’t walk or talk yet although I think he’s trying to say ‘papa’. His dad dotes on him, well I suppose that’s natural because he is fully the father this time. The boy really gets excited when his father returns home each evening and they spend time together playing while Joshua pretends he’s helping me cook the evening meal. Sometimes though Joshua goes and handles his father’s tools while Joseph is messing around with James. I’m worried that Joshua will hurt himself. Some of the tools are very sharp – Joseph has a good set now, he’s been able to get really good ones with the wages from the Roman building works. Joseph seems relaxed though. He points out how careful Joshua is, he seems to love just feeling them and pretending to use them. Some of them are quite heavy, but he must be a strong lad for the weight doesn’t seem to bother him.

I wondered how Joshua would regard James. At first I worried that he’d be jealous and might harm the baby, so I watched him carefully. I soon realised he was quite safe but I was a little puzzled. He seemed to accept James without any special question, it was just natural. He didn’t pay him any more attention than he paid to Simeon or baby Sarah. It was as if all children were of the same value to him. He paid just as much attention to the children of our neighbours or those whom we see each week at the synagogue. His only special friend is Martha. A year ago she was his heroine, he followed her about and learned much from her. Now despite their age differences, they seem to be equals. It’s odd. I can just imagine Dora now – the two children will be entirely absorbed in each other, she needn’t worry about them, yet they’ll notice everything and ply us with questions hours later about what they’ve seen.

I hope Dora will be home soon as Sarah’s woken up and will be hungry. She’s crying now and that’s disturbing both Simeon and James. Simeon tries to drag me to his sister and I pick her up and now have a child in each arm. Sarah quietens a little but I can see her little mouth is searching and she’ll soon be screaming again. I’m relieved when a few minutes later I see Dora turning into our alley with Martha and Joshua, hand in hand, trailing behind her.

“Sorry to be so long,” she says breathlessly. “I’ve been hurrying as best I can, but these two want to stop every few yards to go and look at something or try to tell me all about what they’re looking at. I thought I’d never get home.”

“You’re too indulgent with them,” I venture, smiling, “you should keep them moving.”

“I tried, but you must know how difficult that is. They’re both so curious. We had to look at everything on the stalls and they quizzed me until I was exhausted mentally. Then we were just about to leave the market square when a fight broke out between two men. I wanted to leave quickly but a crowd soon developed to watch and I found we were hemmed in. Both the children wanted to know why the men were fighting, and I told them they both wanted the same thing from the market stall – that they were being silly squabbling like little children.

The real reason seemed to be racial though, I heard them swearing at each other and the Greek-speaking Arab was insulting the Jew who got angry and tried to hit the other who then retaliated. It was quite nasty and some of the crowd began to takes sides. As Jews, we were definitely in the minority and I got worried in case it turned into a wider skirmish in which the Arabs in the crowd would round on any of us that were Jews. I tried to find a way out, then Joshua and Martha escaped my clutches and wriggled their way to the front. Then, just as the fight was getting vicious, Joshua suddenly planted a smacking kiss on Martha’s cheek and the crowd fell about laughing and the fighting stopped and everyone drifted away just like that. It was most peculiar. It was almost as though Joshua had done it single-handed, casting a spell on them!”

I told Joseph about this incident later, because of how Joshua had acted, but Joseph became quite agitated and said that he could sense a growing antagonism between the Jews and especially the Greek-speaking Egyptians. It seemed to spring from the increasing prosperity of many Jews – not us unfortunately – who were taking quite influential roles in the city government, although everyone in the end had to obey the Roman governor. I hoped that it would not lead to Joseph being thrown out of his job as had happened in Pelusium, but Joseph said that most of the craftsmen working on the villas for Romans who worked in the Brucheum area were Jews and the Romans would not allow these tensions to delay the completion of the building work.