The Coffee Trader

17

Miguel believed he had learned a great deal that day, about women and about Hannah. He could never have imagined what spirit lurked beneath her quiet exterior. He had feared the worst of her, that she would repeat all she knew to every wife in the Vlooyenburg. It seemed inevitable that a silly woman would run off with this bit of gossip like a dog who snatched a piece of meat from the kitchen counter. Now he believed he could depend upon her to be quiet. He couldn’t explain why he had given her the coffee, why he had confessed to her what he wanted to hide from Daniel. It had been an impulse to give her something, a new secret, to make her feel the bond of trust between them. Perhaps it had been sound reasoning and perhaps not, but the thrill of trusting her had been impossible to resist. And he knew with absolute certainty that she would not betray him.

Miguel shook his head and cursed himself. Did he not have enough trouble without looking for unspeakable intrigues? If something were to happen to Daniel, he thought, he would happily take a closer look at Hannah. And a man might die in many ways: disease, accident, murder. Miguel took a moment to indulge in thoughts of Daniel’s body being dragged from a canal, his eyes openly staring at death, his skin somewhere between blue and white. He felt remorse at his pleasure in such thoughts, but they left him less agitated than thoughts of removing Hannah from the unhappy bondage of her clothing.

Wasn’t coffee supposed to inhibit such thoughts? But even coffee was no match for the thrill of Hannah’s conversation. He had always thought the girl no more than a simple and pretty thing, charming but empty. Now he knew it had all been for show, an act to placate her husband. Give the woman a bowl of coffee, and her true self blossomed. How many other women, he wondered, merely played the fool to escape the notice of their men?

The thought of a world peopled with cunning and duplicitous women did nothing to calm his spirits, so he said his afternoon prayers, adding his silent thanks to the Holy One, blessed be He, for having disposed of Joachim without all of the Vlooyenburg knowing of his business.

Miguel soon learned his thanks were premature.

He had thought it fortunate that Joachim had pulled his impudent prank while the men of the Vlooyenburg were scattered about the city in pursuit of their business, but he had forgotten to account for the women, women who sat in their parlor chairs and stood in their kitchens with their eyes upon the streets, praying that this day heaven would release them from their tedium by manifesting the miracle of scandal. Joachim’s crude behavior had been witnessed: from doorways and windows and side streets. Wives and daughters and grandmothers and widows had seen it all, and they had talked eagerly, to one another and to their husbands. By the time Miguel saw Daniel that evening, there was hardly a Jew in Amsterdam who did not know that a strange man had threatened Hannah and her maid and that Miguel had driven him off. Supper creaked under the weight of the incident. Miguel’s brother hardly spoke a word, and Hannah’s weak attempts at conversation failed utterly.

Later, Daniel crept down to the cellar. He took a seat in one of the old chairs, his feet slightly lifted out of the damp, and remained silent long enough to expand the discomfort that already crept over them. His eyes half focused on Miguel while he poked at a back tooth, all the while making sucking noises.

Finally he extracted his finger. “What do you know of this man?”

“It does not concern you.” The words sounded feeble even in Miguel’s own ears.

“Of course it concerns me!” Only rarely did Daniel lose his temper with Miguel. He might condescend and lecture and express his disappointment, but he shied away from anything like anger. “Do you know that this encounter is so upsetting to Hannah that she will not even speak of it? What horrors have befallen my wife that she will not gossip?”

Miguel felt some of his own anger subside. He had asked Hannah to protect a secret, and she had done so. He could not let himself worry about what damage he had done to his brother’s domestic quiet. Daniel, after all, only believed his wife upset.

“I’m sorry Hannah had a scare, but you know I would never let her come to harm.”

“And that foolish maid. Every time I try to inquire of her what happened, she pretends not to be able to understand what I say. The girl understands my Dutch well enough when I go to pay her wages.”

“You are more practiced with those words,” Miguel suggested.

“Don’t play the fool, Miguel.”

“And don’t play the father with me, my younger brother,” Miguel boomed.

“I assure you, I am not playing your father,” Daniel replied tartly. “I am playing the father to an unborn son and I am playing the husband, a role that would have taught you much had you not botched your agreement with Senhor Parido.”

Miguel almost lashed out with some hateful words, but he checked his tongue. In this case, he knew, his brother’s grievance had merit. “I am truly sorry that anyone unpleasant should have had contact with the senhora. You know I would never consciously expose her to any danger. This matter was nothing of my doing.”

“Everyone is full of this, Miguel. I cannot tell you how many conversations broke into harsh whispers at my approach today. I hate hearing people talking of my business, of how my own wife had to be saved from a madman set upon her by your doings.”

Perhaps that was the source of Daniel’s anger. He did not like that it was Miguel who had saved Hannah from the madman. “I had always believed you had larger concerns than what wives and widows say about you.”

“Make sport if you like, but this kind of behavior is a danger to us all. You have threatened the safety not only of my family but of our entire Nation.”

“What madness is this?” Miguel demanded. “Of what threat to our Nation do you speak? Your wife and Annetje were accosted by a madman. I fended him off. I hardly understand why that should be fodder for scandal.”

“We both know there is more to it. First I hear you have dealings with the heretic Alferonda. Now I have heard that this man who accosted Hannah was seen speaking to you two weeks ago. I have heard he is a Dutchman with whom you have an irresponsible familiarity. And now he lashes out at my wife and my unborn child.”

“You have heard a great deal,” Miguel answered.

“I might even go so far as to say it hardly matters if it is true-the harm may be the same either way. I have no doubt the Ma’amad would regard these transgressions very seriously.”

“You speak very authoritatively for the Ma’amad and its outdated policies.”

Daniel looked worried, as though they were in public. “Miguel, you go too far.”

“I go too far?” he snapped. “Because I disagree with the Ma’amad in private? I think you have lost your ability to judge the difference between power and wisdom.”

“You mustn’t criticize the council. Without its guidance, this community would be lost.”

“The Ma’amad was instrumental in creating this community, but now it rules without accountability or mercy. It threatens excommunication for the slightest offense, even the act of questioning its wisdom. Shouldn’t we be Jews in freedom rather than in fear?”

Daniel’s eyes widened in the flickering candlelight. “We are foreigners in a land that despises us and needs only an excuse to cast us out. The council stands between us and another exile. Is that what you wish? To bring ruin upon us?”

“This is Amsterdam, Daniel, not Portugal or Spain or Poland. How long must we live here before the Ma’amad understands that the Dutch are not like these others?”

“Do not their clergy condemn us?”

“Their clergy condemn us, but they condemn paved streets, and lighted rooms, and food with flavor, and sleeping while lying down, and anything else that might bring pleasure or comfort or profit. The people mock their preachers.”

“You are naive if you think we cannot be expelled here as we have been elsewhere.”

Miguel sucked his teeth in frustration. “You hide in this neighborhood with your countrymen, knowing nothing of the Dutch, and so you think them evil because you cannot trouble yourself to learn otherwise. This land rebelled against its Catholic conquerors, and then allowed the Catholics to continue to live among them. What other nation has done such a thing? Amsterdam is a stew of foreigners. The people thrive on having aliens around them.”

Daniel shook his head. “I’ll not say you are wrong about these things, but you are not going to change the Ma’amad. It will continue to act as though we are in danger at every moment, and it is better for it to do so than grow complacent. Particularly when Solomon Parido is a parnass, you must treat the Ma’amad’s power with respect.”

“Thank you for your advice,” Miguel said icily.

“I’ve not yet given you advice. My advice is that you do nothing to endanger my family. You are my brother, and I’ll do what I can to shield you from the council, even if I think you’re deserving of its anger, but I’ll not place you before my own wife and unborn son.”

Miguel could say nothing.

“There is more,” Daniel said. He paused to play with a tooth for a moment. “I have not said anything of this to you before,” he mumbled, one finger still in his mouth, “because I knew you to be in a great deal of difficulty, but I have heard that things have changed with you. There is the matter of the money I lent you-some fifteen hundred guilders.”

Miguel nearly gasped. The loan had been like a fart at Shabbat meal: everyone notices, but no one says a word. After all these months, Daniel now finally spoke of the money, and the spell of silence was broken.

“We have all heard about your success in the whale-oil trade-which came, I might add, at the expense of other men. In any case, now that you have some guilders in your account, I thought you might repay me at least a portion of what you owe. I should very much like to see a thousand guilders transferred into my account tomorrow.”

Miguel swallowed hard. “Daniel, you were very good to lend me that money, and of course I will repay it when I can, but I have not yet received the funds due to me from that trade. You know that broker, Ricardo? He won’t pay me or disclose his client.”

“I know Ricardo. I’ve always found him a reasonable man.”

“Then perhaps you might reason with him. If he pays me what he owes, I will be happy to lighten my debt to you.”

“I have heard,” Daniel said, now staring at the floor, “that you have more than two thousand guilders in your Exchange account right now. I must conclude that the rumors you have been spreading about Ricardo are an abuse of a good man’s name meant to help you avoid paying your debts.”

Geertruid’s money. How had he learned of it? “That is not money from Ricardo; it is money from a partner for a business transaction. And accounts at the Exchange Bank are supposed to be private.”

“Little can remain private in Amsterdam, Miguel. You should know that by now.”

Nothing was so infuriating as Daniel playing the great merchant with him. “I cannot give you any of that money; it is not mine to give.”

“Whose is it?”

“That’s a private matter, though I’m sure no such private matters are beyond your reach.”

“Why private? Are you brokering for gentiles again? Do you dare to risk the wrath of the Ma’amad after you have so angered Senhor Parido?”

“I never said I was brokering for gentiles.”

“But you don’t deny it either. I suppose all this is related to your coffee dealings. I told you to stay away from coffee, that it would ruin you, but you would not listen.”

“No one has been ruined. Why do you jump to these absurd conclusions?”

“I’ll have at least part of that money before you lose it,” Daniel assured him. “I must insist that you transfer a thousand guilders to me. If you are unwilling to pay a portion of your debt to me when you have money,” he said, “you insult the charity I have offered you, and your continuing to live here will no longer be acceptable.”

For a fleeting instant, Miguel seriously considered murdering his brother. He imagined himself running Daniel through with a blade, of beating his head in with a candlestick, strangling him with a rag. The outrage of it all. Daniel knew that if Miguel moved out, took his own lodgings, the world would see it as a sign of his solvency, and his creditors would descend and pick away with their ravenous beaks until there was nothing left. There would be demands and challenges and hearings before the Ma’amad. It would be only a matter of days before his dealings with Geertruid were exposed.

“I might consider an alternative, however,” Daniel said after a moment.

“What alternative?”

“I might withhold my demand for the money you have long owed me in exchange for information about your coffee dealings and perhaps the opportunity to invest in your project.”

“Why will you not believe that I have no dealings in coffee?” Miguel demanded.

Daniel stared at him for a moment and then looked away. “I’ve given you your options, Miguel. You may do as you like.”

Daniel had given him no choice: surrender a thousand guilders now or lose everything in a matter of days.

“I’ll transfer the funds to you,” Miguel said, “but you must know that I resent your demands, which harm my business and make it all the more difficult for me to extricate myself from my debts. But I promise you this: I will not allow your pettiness to undermine my affairs. I’ll be out of debt in a matter of months, and it is you who will come begging to me for scraps.”

Daniel smiled thinly. “We’ll see,” he said.

The next morning Miguel swallowed the bitter medicine of transferring the funds to his brother. He nearly choked as he gave the order to the clerk at the Exchange Bank, but it had to be done.

As he went about his business that day, he tried hard not to recollect that of the three thousand guilders Geertruid had entrusted to him, little more than a thousand remained.

from

The Factual and Revealing Memoirs of Alonzo Alferonda

I believe I may have mentioned that Miguel Lienzo was some years my senior and I did not know him well when I was a boy. I knew his brother, however, and if I had not heard from my father that Miguel was a superior and wily boy, I would have had no interest in knowing more of the family.

Daniel Lienzo was a child who knew his assets and shortcomings from an early age. He had not nearly the physical strength of the other boys we played with, but he was much faster. Understanding how to manage his gifts, he would have nothing to do with games of wrestling but insisted we race all day. He only wanted to play at sport in which he could win.

Though he was known to be his father’s favorite, he complained bitterly about his older brother, unable to accept the unfairness that Miguel should be older, larger, and farther along in the world. “My brother wastes his time studying Jewish books,” he would tell us in conspiratorial whispers, as if the rest of us were not secreted away by our fathers and taught forbidden things by candlelight. “My brother thinks himself a man already,” Daniel complained. “He is always after the serving girls.”

Daniel would have studied Torah if only to prove himself his brother’s master. He would have chased girls though he knew not what to do with them, if only to prove he could catch where his brother could not. The idea was absurd. Miguel had a quicker mind than Daniel, and his appearance was far more pleasing to the ladies. Still, Daniel could never forgive the slight of being born second.

I can recall that when I was but twelve years of age, only a few months before we fled Lisbon, Daniel came to us and said he had a trick he wanted to play. His older brother had spirited a kitchen girl away into a quiet closet in their house, and he thought it would be amusing to expose them.

Of course it was a foolish thing to do, but we were children and doing foolish things had a great deal of appeal. We followed Daniel into his father’s house and then up three flights of stairs until we stopped outside an old door that sat crooked on its hinges. Daniel signaled for us to be quiet and then threw open the door.

There we saw Miguel sitting on a cushion with a serving girl no more than his own age. Her dress was in a state of disrepair, and it was clear she had been behaving as no good girl ought. The two of them reacted to our presence with utter confusion, and in truth we reacted in utter confusion too. The girl attempted to lower her skirts and close her bodice in a single gesture and, frustrated at her efforts, broke into tears. She called upon the Virgin’s mercy. She was undone.

Miguel reddened, not from embarrassment but indignation. “Leave us!” he hissed. “You may tease a man, but only a coward teases a young woman.” Before, we had been only eager and curious and full of childish giggles over we knew not what. Now we were shamed, by our curiosity and his hard glare. We’d committed a crime we were too young to understand, and our lack of understanding made it all the more terrible.

We all backed up and raced down the stairs, but I paused because I saw that Daniel did not move. He stood in the doorway, preventing Miguel from closing it. I could not see his eyes, but I somehow knew he stared hard. At Miguel? The girl? I don’t know, but he was utterly unmoved by Miguel’s majestic wrath or the girl’s tears.

“Go!” Miguel told him. “Can’t you see the girl is distressed?”

But Daniel stood there staring, listening to the girl’s muted sobbing. He never moved for as long as I dared to remain.

For what reason do I mention this? my reader may wonder. Well, it is to help explain some of the animosity between these two men, which went back many years and was, as near as I could tell, utterly senseless.

But such was the way with these brothers. Thus the reader may not be entirely surprised to learn that it was Daniel Lienzo himself who owed Miguel more than two thousand guilders in whale-oil debt. Far from being in debt to his brother, Miguel was his creditor and never once suspected it.