The Coffee Trader

“However,” Miguel added after a moment, “your resolve makes me curious. Why should a man, whoever he might be, fear to involve himself in the coffee trade?”

But now it was Daniel who wanted to speak no more of it.

They ate the rest of the meal mostly in silence, Daniel staring at his food, Miguel exchanging glances with Ha

One time she had even dared to ask him why he slept in the cellar. When he had first moved in, Daniel had placed him in a small windowless room on the third floor-what the Dutch called the priest room-but Miguel had complained that it was too hot and smoky if he burned peat and too cold if he did not. Ha

So now he lived in the damp cellar, sleeping in a cupboard bed that even the shortest man would have to curl up to fit into. At night, when the tides rose, the canal water spilled through the windows and onto the floor, but he still preferred it to the priest room, at least when he wasn’t creeping up the stairs to A

At the conclusion of the cheerless meal, they were rescued from their misery by a pounding at the door. It turned out to be the parnass, Senhor Parido, who entered the room and bowed in his overly formal way. Like Daniel, Parido dressed like a Portuguese man, and while Ha

He radiated a melancholy that Ha

Parido’s sadness meant nothing to Daniel. Ha

Daniel greeted the parnass in the most elaborate terms imaginable. He nearly fell over, getting up from the table so he could return the bow. He then told Ha

“Perhaps the elder Senhor Lienzo would like to join us,” Parido suggested. He stroked his beard, which he kept fashionably short and slightly pointy, like a painter’s rendition of his namesake.

Miguel looked up from the last of his stewed herring. He had barely responded with a nod to Parido’s bow. Now Miguel continued to stare as if he didn’t understand his Portuguese.

“I’m sure my brother has other things to do with his time,” Daniel suggested.

“It does seem likely,” Miguel agreed.

“Please, why don’t you join us?” Parido suggested again, an unusual softness in his voice. Miguel could not refuse unless he wished to risk utter rudeness.

Instead he nodded sharply, almost as though trying to shake something out of his hair, and the three men disappeared together into the front room.

Ha

Ha

Ha

A

There had been nothing for Ha

Now she could hear Parido’s muffled voice on the inside. “I was hoping I might have a moment to speak with you,” he said.

“You might have taken that moment last night. I surely saw you at the Talmud Torah.”

“Why should he not have been at the Talmud Torah?” Daniel asked. “He is a parnass.”

“Please, Daniel,” Parido said quietly.

A moment of silence and then Parido began again. “Senhor, I have but this to say. Things have been uneasy with us for a long time now. After the business with Antonia, you sent me a note in which you offered an apology, and I was uninterested at the time. I now regret my coolness toward you. Your behavior was foolish and inconsiderate, but not malicious.”

“I will agree with that assessment,” Miguel said, after a moment.

“I don’t expect us to become great friends in an instant, but I would like to see less discomfort between us.”

A brief pause, and sounds like the drinking of wine. Then: “I have felt particular discomfort when you brought me before the Ma’amad.”

Parido barked out a laugh. “Do me justice and acknowledge that I never charged you unfairly, nor have you ever faced serious punishment. My duties as a parnass require that I guide the behavior of the community, and in your case I have tried to show mercy out of affection for your brother rather than be cruel out of resentment toward you.”

“It is strange that it never occurred to me.”

“You see?” Daniel said. “He has no interest in ending animosities.”

Parido seemed to ignore him. “We have been angry with each other these two years. I ca

“I appreciate your words,” Miguel said. “I’d be happy if things could become easy between us.”

“The next time we see each other,” Parido pressed, “we will meet if not as friends then at least as countrymen.”