anything was buried there. He left Mama and me standing there to put the shovel back into the shed.
“Let them come and search us now,” he said quietlywhen he came back. “They won’t find anything.”
We went back to the house. I retrieved the kiddush cup and wrapped it in an old petticoat. I lay on my bed, waiting for my parents to fall asleep. When I could bear to wait no longer I tiptoed to Mama’s door. It was silent inside. When I passed Papa’s chamber, all I heard was his snoring. I left the house as quietly as I could and found the shovel again. I had walked this path at night so many times I didn’t need a candle. I began to dig five paces from the hole that my father had made. It took me a long time to dig the hole, for the earth was hard and dry. I became hot and sweaty, but finally my task was done. I was careful to smooth down the earth over the cup, the way I had seen Papa do it. When I was finished, I paused to listen, to feel the sweet spring air. Except for the songs of the crickets, no creature stirred. I made my way back to the house well satisfied with myself.
C HAPTER 11
M ONDAY , J UNE 4, 1492 –
T UESDAY , J UNE 5, 1492
I hadn’t been able to sleep or eat ever since the Inquisition had taken Papa away. I was terrified that Santos and his henchmen would return. And there was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening.
I was also so worried about Yonah. How could I help him? I was helpless. How could I live without seeing him ever again?
One morning, after a particularly sleepless and fretful night, Mama and Papa found me sitting on a bench, weeping in the courtyard.
“Child, what’s wrong? Are you frightened for me?” Papa asked as he sat next to me.
I put my arms around him and laid my head against his chest. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“I’ll do everything I possibly can to keep the Inquisition away from us.”
Mama became emotional again. She, too, had not been herself of late. “Oh, Enrique, I am so frightened for you as well. For all of us! I pray to the almighty day and night to keep us safe.”
“And for Yonah,” I mumbled, “will you pray to God to keep him safe, too?” I was horrified when I realized what I had said – but it was too late to take back the words.
Papa pulled away from our embrace and grasped my shoulders. “What do you mean? Who is Yonah?”
The urge to unburden my heart was too strong, and when I told him, Papa was furious.
“How could you be so foolish?” he bellowed.
I hung my head.
“Papa is right.” Mama shook her head slowly.
I couldn’t look at either of them. “I am sorry.” The words sounded hollow, even to me.
Mama saw my stricken face and patted my back. “Our daughter has grown up.”
Papa’s face turned so red that I feared that he would suffer an attack of apoplexy. “What nonsense are you speaking, wife? Don’t you understand? This boy is a stranger and he holds our lives in his hands. If he betrays us, we will all burn at the stake.”
“Yonah would never betray us!”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Then there’s the matter of Luis. Have you forgotten?”
I was almost relieved that we were back to that old argument. “I told you that I don’t want to marry Luis. The better I know him, the more I loathe him.”
My words agitated Papa even more. “You know our reasons for wanting this marriage!” His voice was becoming louder and louder.
“I hate Luis!”
“We know what’s best for you!” Papa cried.
Mama touched his arm. “Calm down, Enrique. The servants will hear you. Her expression softened. “Don’t be so angry with Isabel. Have you forgotten how we felt when we were young?”
“Foolish woman. Don’t be sentimental, Catarina. Isabel must marry Luis.”
She spoke quickly to tide his protests. “I know that. Yonah would be a most unsuitable match. A silversmith … we want more for you, Isabel.”
“Yonah is a good person,
“Let them come and search us now,” he said quietlywhen he came back. “They won’t find anything.”
We went back to the house. I retrieved the kiddush cup and wrapped it in an old petticoat. I lay on my bed, waiting for my parents to fall asleep. When I could bear to wait no longer I tiptoed to Mama’s door. It was silent inside. When I passed Papa’s chamber, all I heard was his snoring. I left the house as quietly as I could and found the shovel again. I had walked this path at night so many times I didn’t need a candle. I began to dig five paces from the hole that my father had made. It took me a long time to dig the hole, for the earth was hard and dry. I became hot and sweaty, but finally my task was done. I was careful to smooth down the earth over the cup, the way I had seen Papa do it. When I was finished, I paused to listen, to feel the sweet spring air. Except for the songs of the crickets, no creature stirred. I made my way back to the house well satisfied with myself.
C HAPTER 11
M ONDAY , J UNE 4, 1492 –
T UESDAY , J UNE 5, 1492
I hadn’t been able to sleep or eat ever since the Inquisition had taken Papa away. I was terrified that Santos and his henchmen would return. And there was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening.
I was also so worried about Yonah. How could I help him? I was helpless. How could I live without seeing him ever again?
One morning, after a particularly sleepless and fretful night, Mama and Papa found me sitting on a bench, weeping in the courtyard.
“Child, what’s wrong? Are you frightened for me?” Papa asked as he sat next to me.
I put my arms around him and laid my head against his chest. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“I’ll do everything I possibly can to keep the Inquisition away from us.”
Mama became emotional again. She, too, had not been herself of late. “Oh, Enrique, I am so frightened for you as well. For all of us! I pray to the almighty day and night to keep us safe.”
“And for Yonah,” I mumbled, “will you pray to God to keep him safe, too?” I was horrified when I realized what I had said – but it was too late to take back the words.
Papa pulled away from our embrace and grasped my shoulders. “What do you mean? Who is Yonah?”
The urge to unburden my heart was too strong, and when I told him, Papa was furious.
“How could you be so foolish?” he bellowed.
I hung my head.
“Papa is right.” Mama shook her head slowly.
I couldn’t look at either of them. “I am sorry.” The words sounded hollow, even to me.
Mama saw my stricken face and patted my back. “Our daughter has grown up.”
Papa’s face turned so red that I feared that he would suffer an attack of apoplexy. “What nonsense are you speaking, wife? Don’t you understand? This boy is a stranger and he holds our lives in his hands. If he betrays us, we will all burn at the stake.”
“Yonah would never betray us!”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Then there’s the matter of Luis. Have you forgotten?”
I was almost relieved that we were back to that old argument. “I told you that I don’t want to marry Luis. The better I know him, the more I loathe him.”
My words agitated Papa even more. “You know our reasons for wanting this marriage!” His voice was becoming louder and louder.
“I hate Luis!”
“We know what’s best for you!” Papa cried.
Mama touched his arm. “Calm down, Enrique. The servants will hear you. Her expression softened. “Don’t be so angry with Isabel. Have you forgotten how we felt when we were young?”
“Foolish woman. Don’t be sentimental, Catarina. Isabel must marry Luis.”
She spoke quickly to tide his protests. “I know that. Yonah would be a most unsuitable match. A silversmith … we want more for you, Isabel.”
“Yonah is a good person,
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