Uri still had good eyesight when Gaius Lucius urged his father to go into silk and muslin, and being a precocious child he was not surprised when his father let him in on his doubts. Who else would he share them with if not his only son? Joseph had been uneasy yet sober in his assessment. He knew nothing about the details of the silk trade as up till then he had been concerned with quite different sorts of merchandise, but he assumed that with silk, as was generally the case with other articles from far away, there would be at least two big outfits engaged in it, with one of them being almost certainly Arab. He also assumed that the Jewish and Arab mafias would have come to an agreement some time, and that agreement was periodically renewed because there was no break in the supply of silk and muslin to Rome, although the amounts that were made available were fairly modest in spite of the huge demand — no doubt deliberately to hold the price up. That alone was indicative of some sort of gang involvement. It went without saying that he would choose the Jewish bunch, but that had the disadvantage that he, being an anonymous merchant among the Roman freedmen, carried no prestige among the Jews, and as silk was such a massive business you could be quite sure that leaders in Parthia, Syria, Judaea, and Alexandria were up to their neck in it, and those were people who would never have the time of day for the likes of him.
The Arab tribes were a different matter. Presumably, the Jews of Antioch and Alexandria had contact with these non-Jewish tribes, but the Greeks of Antioch and Alexandria would also have a cut of the business, by virtue of the fierce Greco-Judaic commercial rivalry. So what if it was somehow possible to become a link in the non-Jewish chain? How else than with money?
That was Joseph’s other big idea after the unbreakable glass vase of painful memory. He methodically haunted the premises of Greek, Syrian, Abyssinian, and Arab traders in Rome, strolling with his son over the bridge and wandering with him around the city, because it was not so easy to track anyone down given that streets had no names and houses were not numbered.
Joseph would offer immediate cash in return for a negligible and, initially, almost certainly loss-making stake in the silk business. Some, having a sound capital base, rejected the idea out of hand, but some were takers because they happened to be short on money, or maybe they were inherently greedy. There were any number of strange homes that Uri visited with his father, coming across peculiar modes of life and odd customs, and that was when the conviction grew in him that it paid to speak with everyone in his own tongue. Uri knew only Aramaic and Greek at that time, like his father, though it would not have hurt to know Arabic and Egyptian as well. A deal would be done not just for profit — Uri appreciated that even as a child — but at least as much, if not more, for the fun of it and for the sake of camaraderie.
In the course of those visits he became acquainted with the use of an abacus, those frames with several rows above each other in which would be placed pebbles; by sliding them one could make incredibly swift calculations. Uri was quicker than his father to arrive at the principle by which it worked, with the lowest row being used for single units, the next for tens, the one above that for hundreds, and so on, and this made it possible to add, subtract, multiply, and divide very speedily, without looking. Being based on the decimal system, the abacus represented local values, though that was not quite how it was put at the time. Back home Uri traced his own abacus on the ground; pebbles and twigs could always be found, and he was proud that sometimes his father, when he got tired of calculating, would trudge out into the yard and ask him to work some calculation or other. The Jews incidentally would also use letters of the Greek alphabet for making calculations, with alpha as one, beta as two, gamma as three, delta as four, and so on, so it was far from easy to perform addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, squaring or extracting the square root with the long strings of letters this involved. Uri wanted to explain the exceedingly simple principle on which the device worked to the other children and their teacher, but they did not so much as listen: the abacus was not a Jewish custom.
His father would negotiate anxiously, doggedly, with determination, his counterparts chattering in leisurely fashion, relishing the chance to talk, whether they were inclined to reach agreement or not. They would willingly pass time with idle gossip, dismissing the serious details of a business deal with a flamboyant sweep of the hand, regaling Joseph and his son countless items of Roman tittle-tattle with quiet snickering, a gleeful giggling, or glorious guffawing, slapping their knee, marveling at life’s oddities. They would be plied with food and drink, which his father would usually decline but they would insist Uri had to drink; as a child it was not unusual for him to stagger drunkenly out of the tenements, private palaces, and shacks.
In the end it cost Joseph close to one hundred thousand sesterces to get into the silk business.
That was a staggeringly large sum of money if one considers that the annual income for a prefect running a province would be just two and a half times that, or that with a fortune of four times that a person could procure a knighthood. The one hundred thousand sesterces was not Joseph’s own money, as he never had a significant amount of working capital, the family scraping by on a few coppers and the sportula before Uri got the tessera. Part of the money was loaned at forty-percent interest by Roman-Jewish bankers (usurious rates like that were strictly forbidden, of course, under both Roman and Jewish law), and partly obtained from Gaius Lucius at an annual interest of no more than ten percent, which was two percent less than the official Roman bank rate.
Joseph lost weight, the furrows around his eyes sank and turned blue, he did not sleep for nights on end, just paced around in the yard and prayed to the Lord that the winds would favor him and his ships not sink (the ships themselves were insured, it was true, the shipping companies being rich, but in general the cargoes were not, with the merchants taking the risk), and he also prayed that the Arabs and the Egyptians and Greeks of Alexandria, the whole treacherous bunch, would stick to their agreements, to say nothing of those far-off tribes, their very names unknown to him, who would transport the goods along the sides of great mountains and desert country somewhere in Tibet, between China and India, and also that the Jewish mafia would not pay him any mind and spare him the curses of the Jewish Elders of Rome. There were attempts to do so, it later turned out, but because a fair number of the Jewish Elders of Rome had close links with Jewish bankers, indeed more than a few were themselves bankers, it was not in their interests to ruin Joseph, so they smoothed things over in anticipation of that forty-percent interest.