Chapter 1 (continued)

iii.

Joshua pushed the door and reached his arm up to his right absent-mindedly. He walked through the door, as if for the first time. His new clothing and his new status making him feel as a new person.

He would take it slower here. He was beginning to feel desparate. It was that desparation which had caused him to come on too strong before. He wouldn't make that mistake this time. He couldn't afford to make that mistake with the Jews. They may be his last hope.

A part of his mind still gnawed at his soul. What if? What if they had had it after all? What if he hadn't found it simply because of his approach?

He had to take a minute and push these doubts to the shelves where he stored the memories of each of his previous lives. Each time, the questions came back. And each time the questions were louder. It was like the person searching for the one lost key who, after returning the cushions to the couch, becomes consumed with the possibility that maybe he didn't search hard enough in all of the couche's crevices. But the more he gives in to this consumption, the more he allows his doubts to rule his destiny, the less likely he is to actually find what he seeks.

Joshua pledged to move forward and look in this spot until all possibility was exhausted. And then what? What if they didn't have it? What if the Jews had no more clue than the Jesuits? What did Columbus do when he realized that all of his life's work had never brought him to the place he sought?

Each dead end, each wrong turn had its cost. Joshua vowed never to accept a turn from which there were no further choices. He had given up too much, lost too much to end his search. Even if, in the end, it took his life too. He had to justify all of the other sacrifices.

But he had to pull his mind together. It was this sort of questioning that had lead him to ask too much of the Jesuits--to ask the questions before he had established the basis and the support. Now he had to form his network. He had to be a Jew first. Finding out what they knew could wait.

And Joshua sat on the right side of the temporary wall and waited for the voice of the man in black to begin the chanting. The chanting with that familiar but evasive melody and haunting tune, evocative of the generations of struggle, which Joshua thought a fitting symbol of the years of his own struggle.

And after the chanting, the wine and the dinner. That was the key. To find out what they knew, he merely needed to sit with the Jews and eat on a late Friday night or perhaps a Passover. After the wine, and a little more wine, and the meal seemingly without end, and yet just a little more wine, who knows? But not tonight. For tonight, focus on being, for the first time, Jewish.

Chapter 1 (continued)

II.

You can change your clothes and you can change your soul. Both take effort, but differ in the approach. When you change your clothes, the world can take notice. When you change your soul, it is possible that none will notice.

If you claim to have changed your clothes, many can see and verify. But when you claim to have changed your soul, you can hide the truth from almost everyone.

This wasn't the first time that Joshua claimed to change his soul. And each time it was an overwhelming decision--one in which he was consumed entirely by the change. But what he sought was not an elemental change in the substance of his soul or even his heart. Joshua sought a change in his association.

It is well-known that your associations hold the key to who you are. Surround yourself with great people and you, yourself, can be great. Surround yourself with evil and you are the same.

And now Joshua surrounded himself with Jews. And not just Jews, but the most religious, most observant Jews he could find.

Joshua had shed the clothing of his previous associations. And he wore the new, not with pride, but with hope. It wasn't a new way of life. It was a password, a link, the key to his future associations. He merely peeled off the one set of clothing, left the priesthood behind, a put on the clothing of a Chassidic Jew.

Chapter 1

I.

His nose broke through the surface first, followed by his face and head. The water dripping back from his shoulder length hair into the pool echoed through the small chamber. He could see little in the low light, but he knew the man was there. His tutor of sorts. In a black robe covering a black suit and dominated by his wide-brimmed black hat turned down almost over his eyes. He was almost amused at the thought. The student, naked, with black hair down to his shoulders. The teacher, impeccably dressed with a white beard down to his navel.

And the two men stared at each other. The one so certain as to who he was. The other so certain as to what he wanted.

The man in black spoke two words "Mazel Tov" and it was done. Joshua Allkent was now a Jew. He didn't feel differeny. But "them" had now become "us."

And what could be a more appropriate time then on a Friday morning. Tonight he would experience Shabbat for the first as an insider. He would truly be a part of the congregation. If it were not for his complete lack of facial hair, they might not even know him from the rest. And he would dress the part. And only the best would do. His suit, robe, and hat were not imported from the distant lands of New York, but directly from Jerusalem. Every limb of his body would be covered in authentic Judaism. But what he truly desired was something more.