The Coffee Trader

Still, she knew it was but fantasy. How long could she talk with him? How long before a clever man like Miguel recovered from his stumble and moved into his own house, leaving Ha

“Were you to marry again and have children,” she asked, “would you allow your daughters to learn?”

“I must be honest with you, senhora, and tell you that I have never thought about it. I always assumed your sex cared nothing for learning and was happy to be spared the pains of study, but now that you tell me otherwise I would look at the matter with new eyes.”

“Then you and I are of a mind.”

After moving to Amsterdam, Daniel had been busy with his studies, learning the ancient tongue and the Law, and Ha

“Why have I not been taught the Law, senhor?” she asked.

There was only a vague hastening of his breath.

“I have thought,” she continued, speaking hardly above a whisper, “that I too might learn to read and understand Hebrew. And perhaps I might learn to read Portuguese too.”

“Perhaps you might learn to transform rods into serpents and to part the waters of the sea,” he had answered, rolling away from her.

Ha

“You are a good wife,” he said to her, “but you must not wish for more than what belongs to a wife. Learning is for men.”

“It must be,” she now said to Miguel, “that learning is not forbidden to women, else the Tudescos would not allow it, for they have the same Law, do they not?”

“It is not forbidden,” Miguel explained. “I am told that there have even been great Talmudists among the ladies in times past. Some things belong to Law, and some things belong to custom. It is written that a woman may be called to the Law, but her modesty ought to forbid her from answering. But what is modesty?” he asked, as though puzzling out the question himself. “These Dutch-women know nothing of it, and yet they do not feel immodest.”

A

She waited for A

Miguel opened his mouth in surprise, as though she had spoken of something forbidden, but he also appeared pleased. Perhaps he found her boldness exciting. How bold should she be?

“It is nothing of substance. There were some questions about business partners. Some on the council do not like the people with whom I trade, so they placed me under this cherem for a day as a warning. These are pretty questions from so pretty a woman.”

Ha

“Not at all. I delight in an inquisitive woman.”

“Perhaps,” she suggested, “you delight in an inquisitive woman in the same way you delight in defying the council.”

Miguel smiled warmly. “I think you may be right, senhora. I have never much cared for authority, and I love to see it challenged-be it the authority of a husband or the Ma’amad.”

Ha

He laughed. “Most times,” he said. “If I am to be honest, I must say that I am as prone to grow comfortable in authority as any man. That is no reason why I should not be questioned, however. I might have followed my father’s example and never studied the ways of our race had I not thought this way, for it is what I love best about the teachings of the rabbis. Everything must be questioned and disputed, looked at from all angles, examined and held up to the light. The parnassim and men like-well, like many men I know-forget that. They wish to see things always as they are and never ask how they might be.”

“And is this the reason, your delight in challenge, why you were called before the Ma’amad? My husband tells me you have defiled Holy Law.”

“As I say, senhora, there is law and there is custom, and custom is often little more than a fable. So long as I tell the parnassim what they want to hear, all is well.”

“What they want to hear?” Ha

He laughed. “Only little lies. They do not want to hear important lies.”

“But is it not a sin to lie?”

“You tease me, senhora. I suppose it is a sin, but an insignificant one. A man of business lies all the time. He lies to put trades to his advantage or to construct circumstances just so. A man may lie to make his position look better than it is, or weaker than it is, depending on his goals. None of these are the same as lying in a way that may harm another man. These lies are merely the rules of business, and such rules surely apply when dealing with the Ma’amad.”

“But those rules would not apply to a woman speaking to her husband?” Ha

“It depends on the husband,” Miguel answered pointedly.

Her stomach flipped in fear. She was going too far. “This difference between law and custom is very confusing,” she said quickly, hoping to return the conversation to safer matters.

“The Ma’amad is a political body,” he said. “Among the Tudescos, there are rabbis who give the Law to the politicians, but among us it is the other way. Sometimes they forget the glory of the Holy Torah; they forget why we are here, the miracle of our being living Jews rather than dead ones or living papists.” He took a final sip of his coffee and then set down the bowl. “I thank you for your company,” he told her, “but I must now go. I have an appointment to keep.”

“How can you have appointments while under the ban?”

He smiled warmly. “I am full of secrets,” he said, “just as you are.”

Maybe he knew everything after all-the church, the widow, everything. As she watched him go, she thought she must tell him. Regardless of the consequences, she must tell him. Then she could tell him about the widow too, and her life would be in his hands. As she sipped her drink, she considered that to have her life in his hands would not be so very terrible at all.

The first thing Miguel saw when he walked into the Singing Carp was Alonzo Alferonda, his squat form spread out toadlike on a bench, speaking quietly to a pair of low Dutchmen. He rose upon seeing Miguel and hurried over on his short legs. “Senhor,” he called out eagerly, “I am delighted to hear of your victory.”

Miguel looked around, though he was inclined not to worry about Ma’amad spies on a day when technically he was not a member of the community. “I hardly expected to see you here.”