CHAPTER 11
Farhan and Amenko just stood aside as the two childhood friends were reunited. With obvious delight, they clasped forearms and surveyed each other. Cephas, smiling broadly observed,
“Adlai – you’ve changed.” This brought a gale of laughter as Adlai responded,
“I would hope so cousin. It’s been what, ten long summers? I was just a boy – a nuisance - back then. We’ve all changed or at least I would hope, for the better.”
“But you look different. You’ve put on muscle and are now much taller. I guess that comes from your abba, eh? But there’s more. You seem to have a worldly look about you. You seem very composed. I suspect your sea-voyage has toughened you some. Eh?”
At the mention of the voyage, a look passed between Farhan and Adlai, which went unnoticed.
“And what’s this Cephas, a little soft living?” Adlai remarked as he poked at a slight paunch on his cousin. “Is the life in Alexandria so gentle and the food so good that you’re forsaking that sinewy body of yesteryear?”
“Unfortunately true. My work keeps me chained to a table. It’s only my eyes that get exercise these days – alas. But tell me, do you still scream at the sight of blood?”
“Mamzer! Trust you to remember my shame after all these years. Let’s change the subject – please?”
Amid this laughter and friendly abuse, Farhan and Amenko began to appreciate the closeness of the friendship on display. To try to interfere would be churlish so they waited until the enthusiasm waned.
“Come,” said Cephas. “The evening is upon us so let’s go to the roof where it’s coolest and we can bring each other up-to-date with our journey to manhood.” Cephas paused, “Amenko, can you arrange for some excellent Aegyptian cold beer?”
And so the rest of the evening was spent telling and re- telling events of the past ten summers. Amenko and Farhan, being spectators, simply contributed occasionally. Farhan was intrigued by the view over Lake Mareotis from which a canal had been excavated to give access to the Nile proper.
At some stage, Adlai brought Amenko into the conversation by thanking him for his guidance.
“You made a tedious trip enjoyable. I must confess to being apprehensive to making the long journey from Berenike to Alexandria. You would make an excellent tour guide. Your understanding and knowledge of local customs maintained my interest all the way.”
“I’m only sorry that we couldn’t visit the temple of Horus at Edfu. Horus is our most popular God and was the favorite of our Pharoes. We worship . . .” Cephas interrupted with,
“Did you tell them the story of Horus 78? I’m always fascinated by the legend. It . . . ahh, seems so human and realistic. Our Yahweh is always remote and threatening.”
“Yes, he did. I really liked the story. It has more appeal to common folk than our forbidding Yahweh. Even Farhan, our gentle Nabataean was impressed. Weren’t you Farhan?”
“Yes – it’s a good story. And I suspect just a story.”
Turning to Adlai he continued, “remember I told you about the story of Allah . . . ahh, I see you don’t remember. . .”
Cephas interrupted with,
“Well, tell me please, I’m interested. How does the story of Allah begin?”
With a laugh, Farhan replied, “Well. It goes like this.
Allah, the moon god, was married to the sun goddess. Together they produced three goddesses who were called ‘the daughters of Allah.’ These three goddesses are called Al-Lat, Al-Uzza, and Manat. The daughters of Allah, along with Allah and the sun goddess are viewed as ‘high’ gods. That is, they are viewed as being at the top of pile of Nabataean gods. Does this make sense?”
“No,” admitted Cephas. “But then is it supposed to? Seems to me that where gods and worship are concerned, you can come up with any story and, because we all yearn for religion, for an afterlife, you can concoct any fairy- tale for true believers. Sorry Farhan, sorry Amenko, I just don’t go for religion – particularly any rabbi’s dire drivel.”
At this Adlai laughed out loud and signaling to Amenko for more beer, said light-heartedly,
“Well said cousin. Well said. Seems that long ago, we had a similar talk and I’m pleased you’ve come round to my viewpoint. I don’t know . . .”
“What viewpoint? What talk? What are you talking about Adlai?”
“Oh, I seem to recall a discussion we had on that day walking back from the hunt. But look, it’s getting late. I suggest we turn in and get some rest. We’ll have plenty of time to talk of old times. Heaps.”
But Adlai couldn’t sleep, mainly because of the heat inside the house. Quietly he got up and took his bedding up onto the roof, where he found Cephas also trying to get some sleep.
“Ahh cousin, you also couldn’t find sleep.”
“No,” said Cephas. “I’m not a good sleeper in the heat of Alexandria. But I thought you would sleep after several jugs of beer and the end of a long journey. It’s good to see you again Adlai, really good. I don’t mix well with our compatriots – other Jews - so I’ve kept very much to myself of late.”
Not wanting to pursue the matter further, instead Adlai changed the subject.
“I should talk about Farhan. Or at least I should warn you. He’s a broken man. Near the end of our sea voyage his young cousin Hamal was taken by a shark. A devilfish. It was horrible. I still recall those awful moments.”
There was a moment of silence as Adlai struggled with painful memories. Then taking a deep breath he continued,
“As Farhan and Hamal were close it affected him severely and I was pleased when he asked to accompany me to Alexandria. Now he’s got to go back home and tell Hamal’s parents about his death. I know he keeps putting off his departure, because he didn’t have to come with me to Alexandria.”
For a long moment, both men lapsed into silence. Eventually Cephas,
“Hey, thanks for telling me. I can’t imagine how anyone would feel seeing your kin mauled like that. Sometimes we get sharks in Lake Mareotis and some attacks have been fatal. I’ve seen what these monsters can do.”
They were now sitting on their sleeping mats facing each other cross-legged and comfortable. It was a warm night, not hot, and Adlai let the atmosphere embrace him.
“You look good, cousin. Real good. You’re hard to recognize from the annoying youngster you were back then. I’m jealous. Envious more like. Hindustan must have been exciting. New people. New food. New surroundings.”
Adlai didn’t reply at once. There were still painful memories of Somya that made him feel depressed at times. He was still raw. So then,
“Yes, it really made me grow up fast. I had responsibility and important work to do. Your abba has been good to me. I can’t thank him enough.”
Can I? Can I find it in my heart to truly forgive Idra for his part in separating me from Somi? Strange, but I want to avoid the subject with Cephas. Somehow, I’ve been changed and there’s a new part of me that needs understanding. I need to understand myself. Till I do that, I can’t explain myself to others. I feel myself being pulled towards some destiny, as yet unknown, which will shape the rest of my life. Something beckons . . .
Cephas broke into his thoughts with,
“I would be churlish not to ask about my abba. How is he? Still extremely disappointed with his son? I know he despairs. When he was last here he didn’t have to say anything – I could read it in his tone and attitude. I think you’ve been more a son to him than I have. And he dislikes Amenko intensely.” This from Cephas carried a certain wistfulness and bitterness.
“I don’t think . . .” Adlai stopped. He didn’t want to continue this conversation. Changing the subject, he continued. “I tried to make it clear that I wouldn’t continue with his business in Berenike. I need to move on. Do something different. What’s the situation with Amenko’s abba? Will he look after your abba’s affairs diligently?”
“I guess so. Frankly I don’t care!” Seeing Adlai’s sharp look he went on.
“Like you, I want to do something different with my life. I’m definitely not a businessman. No, definitely not!”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“Like you – I don’t know. Life here is good. I earn good money and I’m sought after. It’s a bit sedentary – as you’ve kindly pointed out. But I feel the world’s changing quickly. Rome has a new Emperor and there’s serious agitation at home for more freedom. There are forces building that seem to have a life of their own. Who knows what the future holds?”
“Talking of home, have you seen or heard from Tavi?”
“No. You know he joined the Zealots and, I gather, is a part of the drive for more freedom in Palestine. He’s a wanted man, so I suppose he can’t move around openly.”
“Tavi, Tavi, Tavi. My older brother. He was always a hothead so I suppose a military life suits him well. I hope he manages to see our parent’s regularly. They must be still crushed by Magdella’s death. Oh my poor beloved little sister. What a cruel death.” Adlai had grown very somber.
‘Yes – a tragedy. A terrible tragedy. Sometimes when the memories come back, I just feel like crying. There is much cruelty in this world. I fear our people have lost hope in their future.”
As Adlai became quiet with his own memories, Cephas asked,
“Do you have any plans while you’re here?”
“Not really – well yes. Yes I do. I want to learn more about the belief’s of Buddhism. The master on the dhow was a devoted Buddhist and got me interested in their way of life. I’ve learnt about Hinduism and a little of Farhan’s religion. Buddhism appeals to me. It seems to offer hope to the living souls in their daily lives. It has great appeal.”
“I don’t understand Adlai. You surprise me. Why do you want to immerse yourself in dreary old religious texts and beliefs? Isn’t that usually what old men do when they are nearing the end of their days? Something to make approaching death more palatable. You’re young, fit and with a fair countenance. You should be looking for a wife!”
“And so should you. I mean, what are you doing with your time? Ruining your eyes translating texts for other people – for a meager fee. Damn it! You can’t be telling me that my efforts are pointless. Can You?”
“No – I suppose not. Sorry, I didn’t want to offend or criticize you. I’m your friend – at least I used to be. I still want to be your friend, Adlai. Ok?”
“Sorry! I’m real sorry Cephas. I didn’t want to be heavy with you. It’s just . . . I don’t know . . . I feel I’m being drawn into a maelstrom of events and somehow must prepare myself. It’s nonsense of course. But, I’m really confused.”
“Well, so am I. I never thought you would become interested in religious matters. Never. And I still think this is not you. Think about this before you go making any commitment. Promise me!”
“Ok, Ok – yes I will. But I’ve been having thoughts for some time now.”
Then, in an effort to change the subject, Cephas asked,
“How’s your sex life?”
Adlai paused and then with a grin on his face replied,
“Farhan tells me that his people cut off the hands of a person caught stealing. That would be terrible wouldn’t it? I mean to lose your hands.”
It took Cephas a moment to catch on and then both men dissolved into gales of laughter.
It was a situation that, in a way, both men were avoiding. All the way from Berenike to Alexandria, there was a growing tension between Farhan and Amenko. In the early stages, after leaving Berenike, the tension could be, and indeed was, suppressed – out of respect for Adlai.
It seems all they shared, was the brick wall that had arisen between them. By unspoken consent, they had avoided each other and any form of direct contact.
Now, several days after arriving in Alexandria, they found themselves alone, as Adlai and Cephas had gone to seek out the religious leader recommended by Makul.
Not wanting to be with each other in a confined space, they went to the rooftop to drink. An awkward silence developed and grew in intensity until Amenko could not restrain himself any longer.
“I know you dislike me Farhan and I’m glad that you haven’t pressed the issue in Adlai’s presence. But I want to talk about it now. We can’t go on like this – it’ll only get worse and ultimately both Adlai and Cephas will be drawn into our personal dispute.”
Silence – as the two young men faced off against each other. Farhan took his time to reply. He stared Amenko and in a cold voice replied,
“It’s not who you are Amenko, it’s what you are. In my culture, a catamite is despised as a disgusting creature. I just can’t accept your sexual lifestyle. It revolts me. I can’t find any way to come to terms with it and I’m afraid the more time I spend with you the more revolted I become.”
“Well, thank you for your honesty or should I say bluntness. But knowing how you feel is not important to me – frankly, I really don’t care. You’re judging a small part of me and ignoring any other attributes I may have. That’s childish.”
“Is it? Is it childish? If we all were like you, there would be no human race. I don’t know what your gods say about your lifestyle – mine are completely hostile. And for good reason.”
“Shit! Balls! You can’t talk about reason and religion in the same breath. If it’s only my sexual persuasion that disturbs you, then I must really be a nice person. No! No! Don’t interrupt! Who gave you the right to sit in judgment on me? Who? Are you so perfect that you can judge another human being? Eh, you wanker!”
“Don’t change the subject. It’s not just me. Catamites are a despised species all over. And rightly so! I think you’re a sad, sad case – all of you. You serve no purpose. No purpose at all!”
“Shit, what a dickhead you are. You . . .”
“What’s with the language? If you think swearing will make a man of you – think again. Coming from you it just sounds ridiculous. Have you ever had a woman?”
“No – have you ever had a man? Oh . . . just look at your face. You seem to be able to dish the dirt out but can’t handle it when it comes back at you. You’re weak. Weak!”
At that, both men stood up and faced each other, eyes blazing.
“WEAK! You call me weak. You who live here sponging off Cephas, and your Dad sponging off his father. You call me weak. I call you a parasite.”
“All right, if you want to go there I ask you what about yourself. Skulking here in Alexandria not having the courage to go home and report on Hamal’s death. And in your own words, you were supposed to look after him. And now he’s dead. DEAD! What are you waiting for? Ehh. What?”
In his blind fury, Farhan shaped up to hit Amenko, who,
“GO ON! Go On hit me. Is that the way you solve all your problems? Violence? You really are weak. Contemptible. Go on! Hit me if it makes you feel better. I dare . . .”
But Amenko suddenly stopped and starred at Farhan whose shoulders had started to heave - and then started to sob uncontrollably. He sank down on his knees and covered his eyes. Holding his head in both hands, the sobbing became louder and more wrenching. Amenko had touched a very raw place and Farhan could not control his desolation. He just collapsed into a fetal position and gave way to his torment.
Amenko was shocked at the sudden collapse. He wanted to physically console Farhan but feared such a move would be misconstrued. Instead, he had to stand there and watch as a fellow human being subsided into emotional misery.
After what seemed a long time Farhan slowly re- composed himself and looking up at Amenko still standing there said, in a rasping voice,
“I’m sorry Amenko, (sob) . . . I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m ashamed. Really . . . . (sob) . . . ashamed.”
“No, No, No! ‘Tis I who should apologize. I’m so sorry Farhan. How could I be so churlish and vindictive? Please forgive me. Please. Ohh, how could I be so callous, so cruel? And uncaring. I’m sorry. So very, very sorry!” And he sat down to face Farhan.
Aga
in, there was silence. Both young men sat now facing each other, both drained at the emotional release they had experienced.
Finally Farhan looked up and said in a voice devoid of anger and passion,
“In a way . . . . (Sob) . . . I should thank you. You’re right. I have been avoiding going home with my . . . . (Sob) . . . awful news. In a way, I suppose I’m a coward. My father died when I was young so I’ve never really had any emotional support – just my mother. But . . . . (Sob) . . . Hamal! Oh you should have met him Amenko.” Farhan stopped, realizing he was starting to reminisce. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t boor you with my problems.”
“No, no! Please. Continue. I want to hear about Hamal. I’ve noticed it’s a subject both you and Adlai seem to avoid. I can’t begin to imagine how painful his death must have been.”
Farhan sighed and continued,
“Yeah, I find it hard to go back. You see - I killed a man. Over a woman. Hamal was with me so we both became wanted. We fled to sea to avoid arrest. He was only very . . . . (Sob) . . . young and looked up to me as a father. He had an infectious smile and a very happy personality. I really loved . . .” flashing an urgent look at Amenko he hastened with, “Not like that . . . Ahh . . .”
“Not sexually you mean. Only in a caring way. Is that what you mean?” Considering the serious conversation, Amenko still managed a laugh.
“Yes. I cared as a big brother. In fact, we were a happy little family unit. Makul the captain, myself and . . . . (Sob). .
. Hamal. And when he died . . . I . . . I . . . I . . . sorry. I can’t say any more!”
“Well don’t. I mean . . . only if you want to. Life can be very cruel. You need to be able to express your grief. Haven’t you had a good blubber before?”
“No . . . I was too proud. After it happened, I went into a state of shock and the crew left me alone. Adlai was a good comfort but I still didn’t want to crash – if you know what I mean.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I really do. In a way, it’s only natural. We don’t want other folks to see us vulnerable. . . Do we?”
There was a long silence. Finally,
“I’m sorry I said those harsh words, Amenko. I still can’t come to terms with your sexuality but that doesn’t give me the right to abuse you. I’m sorry.”
“Well, thank you for that. I’m used to it by now. Being called evil names. After a while, you just don’t give a damn. But seriously Farhan, you’ve got to come to terms with Hamal’s death and the need to tell his parents. If I were you I wouldn’t waist any more time.” Amenko paused. “Hey, I’m sorry – I’ve no right to advise you. None at all.”
“No – you’re right. I’ll tell Adlai when he gets back. If there’s a ship sailing on tomorrow’s tide, I’ll be on it if I can.”
The address given was a little way outside the city of Alexandria and required a long walk by Cephas and Adlai. Eventually they reached a large villa set amongst native plants. When Adlai enquired, using the name given by Madhul, a servant responded that the master was, at this moment, talking to acolytes in the garden. They were ushered on through.
“. . . so, to answer your question, I can’t prove that gods exist nor can I prove they don’t exist. All we can say, for certain, is that we worship these gods in many ways. To some extent the manner in which we worship usually follows our local and established cultural practices.”
This came from an old man of indeterminate age, sitting cross-legged on a small dais. The setting was pristine. The garden was designed to emulate a desert oasis with sand as the ground cover and Palm trees spaced around. In the centre was a large pond with flowering water lilies. The master sat on one side of the pond while on the other side there were gathered perhaps thirty young men of various races and origins. They all wore white tunics as a form of uniform but more out of respect for the master who was also adorned in a pure white garment.
On seeing Adlai and Cephas, he haltered his discourse and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture.
“Ahh, I see we have new visitors to our gathering. Welcome, welcome friends. Come, come, and sit with us. Please stay and if you want, join in our discussions. Would it be too rude to ask for your names?”
“I am Adlai ben Yusuf and this is my cousin Cephas ben Idra. And if it’s not imposing we would like to sit with you.”
“Excellent, excellent. We have many Jewish friends in our gathering. Well met Adlai and Cephas. Well met. Sit, sit, you are most welcome.”
Cephas leaned across to Adlai and whispered, “What are we doing here? This sounds like boring intellectual stuff. Why waste time? It’s such a beautiful day.”
“Ssshhh! be quiet. I might find the answer to many questions running through my mind. Patience.”
“Now back to the question raised by Zaid,” continued the master. “I would imagine you’re not happy with my answer?”
Zaid was a slightly overweight young man but with an intelligent face.” No, I’m confused. Most priests tell us that our gods and goddesses are real and must be appeased by regular worshipping. It seems we have a god or goddess for every circumstance and occasion. Now you’re saying they probably don’t exist. Aren’t you afraid the gods might avenge your blasphemy?”
“Ahh. To be accused of blasphemy assumes that there is a god to be offended. If there are no gods then blasphemy cannot exist. Can it?” Then the master paused as he marshaled his thoughts. Adlai noticed that the group was eagerly waiting for him to continue.
“Now let us assume there is a god – or gods. Is it not true that we humans always benefit from constructive criticism and only an immature person would not respond to such criticism? Then if a god has human form would it not be churlish and childish to take offence at criticism to such an extent that punitive punishment is afflicted? No – I think not. Definitely not! We would insult our gods by thinking them so crass. Hmmm.”
There was a silence in the group as they digested this.
But then a young Nubian spoke up, a little uncertainly, as he would only have been eighteen summers.
“I’m sorry teacher, I’m not able to express myself very well and I feel somewhat inadequate in this gathering . . .” The master interrupted with,
“Do not disparage yourself. Say what you want as best you can. Remember, there probably are others with the same question wishing they had the courage to address the group and myself. Go ahead – say what’s in your mind.”
“Well, it’s simply that in my tribe it’s not the gods who punish but it’s the priests. How do you overcome that?”
“Aha! An excellent question See . . . what’s your name young sir?”
“Jagur, master.”
. . . Jagur. You’ve come to a most important question. We will leave the question of the existence of gods for further discussion. Right now, we don’t have a definitive answer. But on the question of how we worship these gods, we can discuss because this worshipping occupies a large part of our daily lives. Be patient Jagur, I’m coming to your question.” And then he paused and surveyed the group that was leaning forward and listening intently.
“We have to sever the discussion on gods and only look to the manner in which they are worshipped. The practice of worshipping is called religion and I can assure you that religion is entirely man-made. Not handed down by gods but devised and invented by us humans.”
There was a soft murmuring from the group. Some didn’t agree and some agreed while others were content to listen more. But he had their undivided attention.
“And as I’ve said before these practices vary depending on tribal customs or ancient beliefs handed down over time. But in every case, these rules and practices often reflect local or just human prejudices. They are never challenged because the priests threaten to invoke the wrath of the figurehead god on any unfortunate offender.”
There was complete silence as he continued,
“And in some cases these practices go as far as demanding human sacrifices for their absent god. That is vile. All hu
man life is sacred and to end a human beings life just to placate or appease some absent god is, to me, repugnant. Evil! Monstrous! Vile!” The master paused to control his anger and to consider his next words.
“Jagur, I can’t control the punitive practices of your priests. I can’t. You can’t. But by challenging their authority in a civilized way, you can get agreement from your tribal people that such penal practices are wrong. Challenge the priests! Use logic! Question, question, always question!”
Adlai had been listening intently to the discussions and couldn’t constrain himself ant longer,
“Master . . .”
“Aha! Our new friend Adlai ben . . .?”
“Yusuf.” Replied Adlai.
“Yes, Adlai ben Yusuf you are most welcome to contribute to our gathering. Please proceed.”
“Master. What then should be the role of religion if not to placate and worship a god? Surely, the power of religion should be harnessed as a force of good for our people, rather than being punitive.
“Yes Adlai this is an interesting and in many ways an important question. I’m very inclined to the Buddhist belief, which teaches that we humans have the power within to control and direct our lives and defines a level of morality for each person to follow. Buddhism sets high goals but teaches people how to attain these aspirations.”
Into the silence that followed, the master proclaimed,
“And I think we’ve gone as far as is useful today. In a future gathering, I want to expand on Adlai’s question. There is much to be learnt and indeed, much to be done on this subject. Off now – go and enjoy this beautiful day. I’ll send word of our next gathering. Be off with you.”
Cephas began hurriedly to depart but Adlai laid his hand on Cephas’s arm to restrain him.
“I want to stay behind, cousin and talk to the master. You go on ahead and I’ll see you at home this evening.”
“C’mon Adlai, don’t be such a bore. Why do you want to waste time with this old man? And doesn’t he have a real name? Every time I hear someone call him ‘master’, my skin crawls. I don’t acknowledge anyone as my ‘master’.”
“It’s a mark of respect. It’s an acknowledgement of his learning and wisdom. Obviously, over time this old man has earned the necessary respect for people to address him as ‘master’. You go – I’ll catch up with you.”
“Sometimes Adlai you’re a real mystery to me. Why waste our youth on such heavy stuff.” And then with a sigh he said, “Ok – I’ll be off now and I’ll see you at home. You know the way back don’t you?”
Adlai waited until the master had finished saying goodbye to his charges and when the last departed, he approached him respectfully.
“Master, could I appropriate some of your time? I’m impressed at what I heard this day. For a long time now, I’ve been looking for answers to questions rolling ‘round in my head and I feel you may be able to help me.
Could you spare me some time?”
For a moment, the master said nothing but looked intensely into Adlai’s eyes.
How extraordinary! His eyes radiate deep intelligence and compassion. And yet for one so young he is composed and confident. This young man is indeed exceptional.
“I would be glad too. I assume you already have considered many of life’s mysteries and rather than finding answers, you have found only questions. Am I right?”
“Yes. Oh Yes, master. As you surmised, I’m a Jew and have been raised in the Jewish faith. Whilst it is sometime comforting, over-all I consider it to be punitive. The only positive side of our religion is to be on good terms with Yahweh – I mean God. I feel our religion does not provide guidelines for our people to live a happy and satisfying life. We can’t even agree whether there is a heaven to go to after we die. And our priests – Rabbi’s – are too unassailable in their teachings. To challenge or to question is regarded as blasphemy.”
The master looked on Adlai with a half smile and nodded sympathetically as he replied,
“And I assume you couldn’t have said what you’ve just said if I was a Rabbi?
“No. Absolutely not. That is why I found your observations in the meeting so refreshing. Can you help me?”
“Hmm, I find it refreshing to hear a young man raise questions that are usually asked by older men. Tell me Adlai, what do you know of Buddhism?”
“Not a lot. Umm . . . very little actually. Just that the path to true happiness lies in self-meditation. That by following an eight-fold path a person can reach peace and enlightenment. But that’s all I know. And I want to learn.”
“Yes there are Noble Truths and the eight-fold path, but more of interest to you would be the Five Precepts or Principals which generally follow your own Ten Commandments.”
Both Adlai and the master had been standing so the master invited Adlai to sit on the raised dais with him. They faced each other. An unusual pair. An old man gracefully carrying his years and a younger man facing him with a body language that conveyed respect. The master gazed at Adlai with an inquiring look.
“What do you want out of your life Adlai? What path have you chosen to pursue in this short journey we call life?”
For a long moment, Adlai said nothing and with a slight frown looked down at his hands considering his response.
“I want to teach. To help people navigate through the many obstacles we meet along life’s journey. Our Rabbi’s are very knowledgeable in interpreting scripture but are unable to help people with their daily problems. A gap has arisen between our people and those who seek to comfort us. I want to step into this gap and teach people how to live their daily lives without being obstructed by religion. Do I seek too much?”
A little smile crossed the master’s face as he listened to this young man. He was reminded of himself at Adlai’s age, and how he thirsted for knowledge. Alas, how the years have flown.
“Look at me Adlai. Look into my eyes. I once had the same dreams as a young man but while I have learned a great deal, to my chagrin I have only been able to influence but a few. Are you willing to accept such disappointments in your voyage?”
“That is a question I’m not prepared to answer. But I can tell you I want to try and as I meet obstacles I’ll find ways to overcome them.”
“Fair enough then. I’m willing to take you on as my pupil as long as you give me your undivided attention.”
“Thank you. Thank you . . . do I have to keep calling you master?”
With a small laugh the master replied, “No. No, certainly not. My name is Ibrahim al Hadi. You can call me Ibrahim when, and only when, we’re alone. Agreed?”
‘Yes ma . . . Ibrahim.”