Page 6 of In Just a Year
CHAPTER3
Ben and all the Klonimuses were invited to a lavish celebration dinner at the Pearlers’ grand house near St. James Palace. Ben had been there countless times but it was the first time since he’d returned from university in Edinburgh and gone to France. Ben stood next to his brother Gideon on one side of the buffet; Fave and Arnold stood on the other side. Gideon put his arm around his beautiful wife, Rosie, who wore a dark purple dress sparkling in the glow of the chandeliers like an amethyst. Gideon had changed since he’d become her husband. He’d grown up in every respect; he was more muscular, and his voice sounded deeper. But something about his eyes and how his gaze softened when Rosie was in the room tugged at Ben’s heart. That’s what he wanted. Not with Rosie, of course. Someone else had been in his mind and heart for as long as he could remember. Through the corner of his eye, Ben saw her.
Esther Solomon was Hannah’s little sister and thus, Arnold’s sister-in-law. The Rabbi’s third-eldest daughter, she was off-limits, yet the most tantalizing dream. Beyond conventional beauty, Esther’s combination of charm and appeal left Ben spellbound. She dominated his dreams at night and his thoughts during the day. Surrounded by her siblings, standing in the Pearler’s elegant dining room next to a crystal wall sconce in her light pink dress with white tulle and a dark brown sash around her waist, she took Ben’s breath away. He imagined untying the sash and seeing her with her hair down. The look of her made him hard. Again. And there were no cliffs to climb in London to exhaust himself. There was no deep water to jump into to distract his body from the relentless thoughts circling his mind. Ben had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Esther. And nothing had ever been so close and yet so far out of reach.
“How is it possible it didn’t rust?” Rosie woke Ben from his stupor. The subject of her interest was still what Gideon had brought back from France, the mysteriously folding dreidel.
“Silver doesn’t rust. It can tarnish or become discolored, but it doesn’t corrode or degrade like less noble metals such as iron or copper,” Arnold explained. He turned to Fave. “Where are the stories grandfather spoke about? If it’s the Dreidel of Destiny, shouldn’t there be the wealth leaves?”
“What are you talking about?” Ben asked.
“You were too little, so you probably don’t remember, but our grandfather always told us about the wealth leaves that open like petals when the Dreidel of Destiny is unlocked. Each leaf leads to a world of wealth.”
“Each one to a different world? As in a different country?” Gideon asked.
Fave nodded. “In the heart of Jerusalem, an ancient artifact was said to exist—a dreidel unlike any other. This dreidel, crafted by the revered elders was believed to possess mystical qualities. The dreidel was made from silver, and on its four sides were inscribed the traditional Hebrew letters:Nun, Gimel, Hei, andShin. When spun just right, it would open like a blooming lotus flower, revealing an exquisite relief inside.”
“I didn’t even need to spin it. The key just slipped into place,” Arnold said.
“Grandfather must have altered it,” Fave said.
“What does the relief show?” Rosie had seemingly forgiven Fave for ruining her dough by casting an impression of the petals.
“It displayed symbols of the twelve tribes of Israel, encapsulating the unique spirit and essence of each tribe,” Arnold said. “From the courageous lion representing Judah to the swift deer for Naphtali, every tribe was honored.”
“But there’s more in the images,” Ben added. His mind was like a painter’s canvas, capturing details with the precision of a master artist; every sight and sound meticulously etched into his memory and yet the image before him seemed incomplete.
“Klonimus?” a voice thundered from the hall. “Klonimus?”
“I’m so sorry, he refused to leave a calling card.” James, the Pearler’s butler of several decades, followed the short, scruffy Richard Nagy, self-appointed Bailiff to the Prince Regent into the room.
Nagy’s sole mission, it appeared, was to relieve the British monarch of theJudenproblem, the “Jew problem.” When word had spread to Austria-Hungary that the new crown jewelers in England were the Jewish Pearlers and Klonimuses, Nagy had been sent to resolve this “problem.” Their existence bothered Nagy as much as their success and wealth. Nobody had asked about their work, the competition they’d won to establish themselves as the best jewelers in England, nor the exquisite designs they’d already delivered and continued to deliver to St. James. Prinny had awarded the Klonimuses and Pearlers the status as crown jewelers because they were English first, Jewish second, and they were the best. But it seemed Nagy wanted to prove that Jews shouldn’t have citizenship, as in several countries on the continent. Though the antisemitic bigot hadn’t swayed the Regent yet, Nagy had a foot in court and the backing of Hungarian, Austrian, Prussian, and several other monarchies that could exert pressure on Prinny to distance himself from the Jews should the slightest doubt in their integrity arise. He was effectively threatening the position the Pearlers and the Klonimuses had been working toward for three generations. It was in his power to destroy their wealth and their safety, and then they couldn’t remain in England. Perhaps Izaac’s fears or distrust in humanity were nothing but far-sighted caution.
“Klonimus, you’re back!” Nagy spat. Dandruff fell onto his black coat like poisoned snow.
“Mr. Nagy, have we agreed to meet today?” Fave asked as he and Arnold stepped forward to shield the rest of their families.
Ben turned and met his father’s eyes. Pavel remained seated with Gustav, Fave’s father, and Rosie’s father in the burgundy settees in the back of the room.
Nagy coughed a forced laugh. “No, I like to surprise you, Pearler.”
“You won’t.”
“I’d be willing to bet that I’ll do something so terrible that you’d never see it coming.” Nagy gave a self-indulgent smile as if hurting the Jews merited applause. None came.
“And yet, I expect the worst from you, so I won’t be surprised.” Fave used a haughty tone worthy of a Peer of the realm as only a Pearler could muster, for most other Jews had not grown up among the aristocracy.
When Fave slipped Arnold the dreidel, Arnold elbowed Fave in the side as he brought his hands to his back and folded them. “Stop provoking him. Do you want him to finish us off like he did with the Jewish family in Paris?”
Ben overheard their whispers. He’d heard about the family of jewelers in Florence, friends of his father, and former suppliers. It wasn’t quite clear what Nagy had done, but their shop had been burned down and plundered in a matter of an hour. Papa had called it an organized hate crime, but he hadn’t heard back from them. Something terrible had happened, and Nagy had boasted about the tragedy is if it were a feather in his cap.
“I’m here for the oldest Klonimus.” Nagy surveyed the elegant room with disdain as if he had no respect for the riches and luxuries because they belonged to Jews. “So many Jews.” He spat on the elegant parquet as if he’d nearly choked on a fish bone.
A chill tremored through Ben’s insides like when he dove off the cliffs in Scotland and hit the icy water sooner than expected. He hated people who disrespected his family or, by extension, the Pearlers.
Pavel rose from the settee, signaled behind his back for Gustav to stay seated, and came to Arnold’s side. “I’m the oldest Klonimus alive, Mr. Nagy.” He patted Arnold on the back.
Ben noticed his father’s hand brushing along Arnold’s back to his hands. Ah! His father took the silver dreidel from Arnold.
