“She and two of our sons went to visit her family in Khazaria that she had not seen since she got married to me. That was in early spring. It was a long and hard trip, and I was against it, but she wanted it so much. She insisted, and I could not say no. She missed her family, the siblings. What could go wrong? That was our land, after all. She wanted to see the family and to show her sons. That was so natural. I would do the same. I could not really say no, but I made sure that the protection was adequate, and the caravan was supplied well. She had everything she may need and more. The travel would take a few months, and anything could happen. Deserts, wild animals, climate, weather, bandits, sicknesses, bad food… So, we informed all the fortifications and the towns along the way, asking them to be vigilant more than usual and ready for anything. Anything was the operative word. They were prepared and committed. I knew they would do it right. My anger would not be an option. They would not survive it. That was clear. My massagers kept us connected, and we knew every step of the way. Yet, she got sick and even our best Chinese doctor, who was accompanying her, could not save her. Despite everything, she died after a week of suffering. We still do not know what was wrong. Was it just a weird sickness that did not strike anyone else but her? Was she poisoned? Was it aimed at me? Children? Thank god, the children were not harmed. She was buried at the Karakorum. They dressed her in the best clothes she had beautifying it with jewelry I gave her as the wedding gift. That was the most expensive jewelry I could give her, fit for a Queen, and she was a Queen. She was my queen, our queen. I could not make it to the funeral on time, but I went there anyway. I saw the grave and gave the order to make it hidden as was only possible. I did not want anyone to find it and rob my wife of her dignity. Not after she died. Not ever. Unfortunately, it happened. There were too many people that had no respect for the dead. Even the Mongols… The grave of Genghis Khan should not be located, and neither is my wife’s and the rest of our family. Our tombs were so sacred. That was the law and the long-standing custom. The grave-robbers had no honor, and they wanted to strip you out of it even after your death. They succeeded way too often. No, not my so loved wife. She should lay there undisturbed, goddess-like. The order was given and carried out with the meticulousness; only my best soldiers could demonstrate. If you did not know precisely where it was, you would never find it. That was a sacred grave. It was done well, and with the utmost respect, she deserved.
Yes, she died, but she was the beginning of the new nation — The Jewish Nation of Mongols. Is that why she died? Was it just her time? We were so happy. The Jewish Nation of Mongols. Everyone liked it so much. Maybe not everyone. That was entirely possible. Bashkirs? Muslims? The Great Khan? We’ll investigate it but, in the meantime, she was gone. The Jewish Nation of Mongols. How would that turn out? I really would like to know. Would I live that long? Would the Jewish Nation of Mongols live that long? Be happy the Golden Horde.”
Aaron Cohen
“Aaron, enough already. Stop brooding and go to the Shul. You’ll be late. Not on Friday. You are never late. Eat something quick and go. Here is a sandwich. Eat and go. They are not going to wait for you.” Leah, Aaron’s wife, was worried. Aaron was the only husband she had, and his problems were her problems. How else it could be? Not in a real Jewish family. That’s how they were raised. That’s how their parents were. Normally, Aaron was a perfect husband and a great father. He did not drink or mistreated her or the children. He was very considerate of the family and worked hard. Children… What if he was sick? What about the children then? “On the other hand, Aaron, go to a doctor. The Shul can wait. You’ve there before. It is there for a hundred years already and be there tomorrow. There is a black doctor, two streets over. What’s his name? I am sure he works on Fridays. Otherwise, why would he open an office so close to us? When our doctors go to the Shul, he may have some good business. Go there. He would check you out and give you a pill. A vitamin pill… It should be good for you but see if it’s kosher. Those dreams drive you nuts, and you scare the kids. And, I am beyond the scare already and beyond going nuts. You drive everyone nuts. You take the whole thing too seriously, I think. I also had a bad dream the other night. I was dreaming that we were eating pork on Pesach (Passover). Can you imagine pork and on Pesach? That was scary, and I woke up in cold sweat. It was so frightening. Yet, it came out to be indigestion. That’s all. It happens. Not a big thing, but so startling. Would you believe that? Pork on Pesach… That takes the cake. I told it to the Rebbitzen (the Rabbi’s wife), and we laughed. She said that, if we had pork for Pesach, Moses would turn in his grave and take the promised land away. That was funny. I believe he would. What’s the point? What is the shtick? After all, even he, Moses, may walk away. And we laughed again. Nice, is not it. She is a good soul. That was so hilarious and in a good spirit. You are frightened, and then, you laugh. That’s life for you. So, laugh with us and go to that doctor. He’ll see you. That is why he is here. What’s his name? Don’t remember. He should be there.”
Leah did not have anyone close or even related (not that she knew that for sure) in New York, but her husband and his family. Her parents were living in Israel, where they were born. They were religious, but the grandparents were not. Her father had only the mother, and she was from Russia somewhere, but she passed away when he was a child, and there were no other siblings. The grandparents on the mother’s side were the survivors of the Holocaust, and they met in Israel in the late forties serving together in the Haganah and then, the Palmach. The grandfather arrived in Israel from Poland via Chelmno — the first of the Nazi German extermination camps located about 50 kilometers from Lodz, Poland. He was a teenager then and very lucky. He was successfully hiding almost until the end of the war. When he was finally arrested and sent to the camp, he was much stronger than the others and then, made to work. In the end, he came out alive when not too many did. Yes, he was fortunate, but the memories had never left him. What he went through, he had to remember. That was his obligation to the dead. The countless tragedies and the most profound hate had filled him with a fire that burnt everything inside, making him hollow and unforgiving. Many Jews were that way, especially in Israel. How to forget what they saw and experienced? How to forgive? What to forgive if you could not forget anything? That made the fire burn. All he wanted now was to find the responsible for the past and the present and to pay them back. Yes, he wanted to deal death to those who’s done it to his people. Past… That past was never really in the past. He could not do much there, but the present was right there and needed attention. So, it was the Haganah then, the Palmach and then, the Mossad. That was his life, and everything else had to fit into that life.