Monday, October 22, 2018

They were Both Children in the Tents of Abraham

Before I forget, please allow me to share these dreamlike memories of my mortal life.... It is I, Jonathon ben Macabi. Some know me as Tomas de Macabea. I grew up in a storied place. They write tales about it to this day.... A land of sophisticated cities with fountain cooled air and souks filled with the treasures of far off lands. Domesticated elephants from distant Hind led every procession and the leader, the old matriarch, born in Mumbai, gave rides to the children in the outer courts of our esteemed ruler. Sages from the academies of Sura and Pumphidepha taught sons of the faithful under the loggia of Toledo. Honeyed dates were as peanuts. Sweet songbirds serenaded all from fanciful cages hung by doorways and balconies. The perfume of aromatic coffee was everywhere, a brand new novelty from The Yemen and a most welcome intoxicant in a culture that forbade alcohol.

In a sense, this was a respite.... especially for Jews, who had less restrictions than resident Christians, for both we and the Muslims were children in the Tents of Abraham and both proclaimed 'The Unity.' Though perfect it was not. All 'infidels,' those with revealed nonconforming holy books where dhimmis, protected souls 'in error.' We paid extra taxes, could be rebuked and reviled in the streets and theoretically barred from certain exalted positions, or providing legal testimony. The thing was, most princes ignored those possibilities most of the time... or at least much of the time, for they recognised our talents and used Jews and Christians (who might not have theoretically shared the Tents of Abraham, but did share more than three quarters of The Bible) to relieve them of the more tedious chores of governance. An uncle was vizier to a Taifa lord up north. My father owned ships that made the run to Fostat twice a year and although he never let on, one secret trip out beyond the Pillars of Hercules to legendary islands filled with dogs in the endless Ocean-Sea, from whence came the spice chocolatl, brought to that place by shipwrecked mariners from the west. Perhaps they hailed from Atlantis?

I think of those times.... I do... And please don't laugh, but I often dream of using my special abilities to help bring peace to the Middle East. A vampire can do many things behind the scenes.... Hidden things... and with a much lighter touch than those graceless fools sent out by the House of Saud (so they say)... My way doesn't even leave a body. Regular readers know why...

Oh, why, oh why did I oh,

Oh, why did I leave Toe-LAY-do?

Anyone get the musical reference???.... Living in Philadelphia for over three hundred and thirty years one sees ALL the shows.

Forgive me this digression. But I'm sitting in the little library downstairs. The townhouse is quiet and rather dark. Edith (our housekeeper) occupies her perch by the the granite counter in the kitchen doing seek and find puzzles. Everyone else is out. It's just me and the little ghost of the boy who died in the cellar about sixty seven years ago. He likes this room too... Plays war games with the onyx chess set. I love that kid...

Now let me get out on the streets and 'cull' somebody....

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Buenos noches.