The Samson Effect: A Novel, page 7
Judas accompanied the old rabbi at a snail’s pace, which gave his teacher ample time to explain where they were going.
“Sometime after Solomon’s reign, the protector chosen was a man of great wealth and influence in Judah. He was also a man of pure heart and devoted to his calling. He built a modest dwelling in Hebron to serve as home for the Lord’s Strength. That dwelling is its home to this day.”
The rabbi led Judas down the hall and into his bedroom. Judas marveled at how little a man of the rabbi’s age had collected in his life. The house itself was simple, but the bedroom was nearly barren. An opened closet contained clothes on only five hangers. The bedroom had only three pieces of furniture. A simple, small, square table and a stool sat on one wall. A cup of Bic pens and a writing tablet sat on the table. A king-size bed, which seemed so out of place in this humble little home, sat in the center of the room.
The rabbi shuffled into the room and slowly eased onto the stool. “This, Judas, is the dwelling place the protector built. Through Christian crusades and Muslim occupations, the Lord has seen fit to keep this small home in the hands of the Jewish protectors. That, my student, is one of the greatest miracles indeed.”
“Rabbi, I don’t understand. How could this home have survived all the centuries of warfare and bloodshed? And, forgive me, but this home was built in the twentieth century.”
“Judas, Judas, it’s not the walls of this house that has survived. I have no idea how many times they’ve been destroyed and rebuilt. No, the true dwelling place is there.” He lifted his cane and pointed at the bed.
Judas stared at the bed and looked tentatively back to the old man. “Rabbi?”
The old man smiled. “Slide it against the window and tell me what you see.”
Judas obeyed, straining every muscle to slide the mammoth bed inch by inch. When he finished, he stood next to the bed, examining the bare area it had covered. “I don’t see anything.”
“Ah, now take my cane and go into the closet.”
Judas obediently followed the rabbi’s instructions.
“Now, remove the rug and look for a chip in the floor. Place the cane in the hole and turn it until it locks into place.”
Judas inserted the cane and turned it until it felt snug. “Now rotate the cane clockwise until it stops.”
He turned the cane with relative ease. In the bedroom, where the bed had been, he heard a grinding sound and saw a thin rectangular crack emerge as part of the stone floor began to sink away. His heart beat faster as a hole in the floor appeared.
“The seam has remained invisible all these centuries because each protector makes only two trips down in their lives; once when they’re anointed and once when they show it to the next anointed.”
For the first time since he had known the rabbi, Judas saw in his eyes an almost childlike giddiness. After a few minutes, the rectangular stone had submerged and slid out of the way. The cane found resistance and stopped turning. Judas removed it and went to the rabbi.
The rabbi took the cane and pointed it at him. “The iron foot on the cane—that’s the key. Place it on any rod you wish. Now, help me up.”
Judas helped him to his feet and the two walked over to the hole. Steps led down into the blackness. The rabbi reached into his pocket, pulled out a lighter, and handed it to Judas. “Go down and light the lamp on the wall to the right and then come back and help me down.”
“Rabbi, the steps are narrow. It might not be safe for you to go down.”
“The last time I made the trip down was over forty years ago. I’ve dreamed of this day since. Try to stop me.”
“Okay, okay.” Judas smiled. He took the lighter and descended fifteen steps before reaching the bottom. He found the lamp and lit it, revealing a room about fifteen feet square. A golden altar sat against the back wall. Two small, gold tables stood on both sides of the altar. The back two tables were about three feet tall while the two tables in front stood about two feet tall. Golden candlesticks, each with twelve unburned candles, sat on the tables. Imbedded in the walls sparkled every type of precious stone imaginable. Judas stared at everything, lost in the room’s beauty.
The rabbi’s feeble yet determined voice snapped him from his trance.
“Rabbi, it’s beautiful.”
“I know it is. Now come back for me right now or my blood will be on your hands when I try to come down myself.”
“Yes, Rabbi.” Judas helped his teacher down, and soon both men stood transfixed. When Judas turned to the rabbi, he saw tears streaming down his teacher’s cheeks.
The rabbi grabbed Judas’s arm and slid to his knees, bowing his head before the altar. Judas followed his example and knelt next to the rabbi, who began a prayer of praise and thanksgiving, followed by a petition to be with and to guard the new protector.
When the prayer ended, Judas felt tears in his own eyes. He straightened his back and drew in a deep breath. “Rabbi, thank you for bringing me here. I’ll keep this secret until the day I die. I swear it.”
The rabbi patted him on the back. “Judas, dear Judas. I’ve watched you grow from a child to a man. I was sure you’d protect the secret even before I asked, as you must be when you choose your successor. But this,” the rabbi said with a wave of his arm, “this is not the true treasure. Are you ready to see the true treasure, the Lord’s Strength; the strength of Moses, of David, of Israel’s ancient judges, of Samson?”
“Yes, rabbi.”
“I’m sure you are.” He handed Judas the cane. “Put the key into the hole in the center of the altar, but don’t turn it yet.”
Judas did so and awaited further instructions.
“You must never forget the following sequence. If you do, it is said the key will be crushed within the altar and you’ll be the first protector in history to lose the precious strength of the Lord.”
Beads of perspiration ran down Judas’s forehead. He never trusted his memory for important things; however, he cleared his head and waited for the sequence.
“Face the altar and turn the back left candlestick a quarter turn clockwise. Turn the front left a quarter turn counterclockwise.”
Judas did so and felt gears within the tables clicking as they turned.
“Now, the right side. Rotate the back candlestick three-quarters turn clockwise and the front one a half turn clockwise.”
When he finished, he wiped the sweat from his palm onto his thigh and chanted the sequence silently in his head. The rabbi interrupted his chant, setting off panic alarms in his mind.
“Ready?”
He wiped his hands dry again, deciding to wait until he went back up the stairs to get the sequence from the rabbi again. He nodded.
“Good. Now turn the key clockwise.”
He wiped his hands dry one last time and started to turn the cane. A section of the wall behind the altar began to recess. Euphoria swept through his body when he did not feel the key crush within the altar.
When the recessed section of the wall was back far enough for him to slip by, the rabbi stopped him. Judas flicked the lighter, slipped into the room, and found an oil lamp sitting on a chiseled square stone about chest high. The room was only eight by eight with no jewels or gold. It was a plain rock room, roughly hewn. Judas saw a laboratory beaker on the center of the rock cube. The rabbi slipped in behind him and pointed to the beaker.
“There it is, the Lord’s Strength.”
“The beaker? How old is this secret?”
The rabbi laughed. “The containers have changed over the centuries, but the content has remained preserved since the days of King Solomon.” He walked over, picked up the beaker, and handed it to Judas.
Judas looked inside and saw a finely chopped substance that looked like burgundy oregano. The rabbi took back the beaker and removed the cork. He measured out a third of the substance on a sheet of paper and replaced the cork. He then removed a flask from his jacket pocket and set it on the stone.
“Judas, my hands aren’t as steady as they once were. Would you mind pouring this into the flask?”
Judas rolled the paper and funneled the substance into the flask. Following the rabbi’s instructions, he replaced the cap and shook the flask.
The rabbi let out a sigh. “It takes one ounce. There are only two ounces left—enough for two more men. If no one finds the lost seeds, the Lord’s Strength will be lost to mankind forever.” He paused for a moment and stared at the beaker. Judas waited for him silently, patiently. The rabbi finally turned to him, tears back in his eyes. “I pray your search will find more success than mine.” He looked at the flask. “I was told if it was freshly cut, the result would be even more amazing and longer lasting.” The rabbi still stared at the flask, licking his lips. He finally turned to Judas with a sigh. “Drink, my friend.”
Judas didn’t move. He trusted the rabbi explicitly, or so he thought. What kind of drug was this? What was going to happen to him? He swirled the flask and looked at the rabbi. “Perhaps we could take it upstairs and—”
“Drink it now, boy, or I swear I’ll rip it from you and drink it myself!”
The rabbi’s voice reverberated in the tiny underground room and almost caused Judas to drop the flask. The old man’s eyes nearly popped from his head. Every vein in his neck and forehead burst to the surface, throbbing with every beat of his heart. For the first time in his life, Judas was sure he was experiencing a demon possession.
Then, as abruptly as the rabbi’s outburst came upon him, he returned to his gentle self. “Forgive me Judas. My heart is broken knowing I’ll never again experience what you’re about to experience.” He looked through Judas, his mind lost somewhere in the memories of the past. “Please, drink it.”
He did.
Chapter 8
AFTER A SHORT drive from the hill, Delia pulled the truck next to Snake Cave Number One. The men unloaded the tools they would need in the cave. Up close, everyone admitted the rock formation looked nothing like a serpent. They approached the opening, which corresponded to a snake’s eye on Michael’s sketch. The entry was just wide enough for them to crawl through comfortably.
Thomas’s flashlight cut fifteen feet to the back wall. He scanned his light back and forth and saw another hole. “Not a bad place to start. Looks like a passageway extends through the hill. Perfect place to hide something.”
A smile burst onto Michael’s face. “Imagination’s pretty good, huh?”
Delia took a small pickax from her backpack and stepped into the cave. “We’ll see.” In a few seconds, she disappeared through the small opening in the back. Thomas walked over to Michael and shook his head. “What’s going on, Michael? I know you’re trying to get on her good side, but you’ve been flirting with her since the day she entered our cell. Our cell, Michael! You haven’t forgotten we’re still technically her prisoners, have you?”
Michael smiled and shook his head. “No, but I do think I could fall for her.”
“You what? Come on, Michael. You’re Jewish; she’s Palestinian. You guys hate each other.”
“Why, that’s a pretty prejudicial thing to say. Thought you were above that.”
“I am, but what do you think dear old brother would think of you even touching his little sister?”
“How’s he going to know?”
“How’s he going to know?” Thomas counted off the reasons with his fingers. “First, her uncle has three goons out there watching us. I may be wrong but my hunch is they’d love to bring back this juicy tidbit of gossip to him. Second, don’t you think your girlfriend may not be as interested in you as you are in her? You come on too strong and she’ll have big brother take care of you for her. Heck, I bet she’d enjoy spilling your guts herself.”
“Look, she does have feelings for me.” He put his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Trust me, my friend. I’ll be careful.”
All Thomas wanted to do was wring Michael’s neck and shake some sense into him. However, he knew if he lost his cool, he’d drive a wedge between them. Instead, he took a breath and spoke in the kindest voice he could muster. “I know you’ll be careful, but what about her? All she needs to do is utter one careless,
innocent word at the wrong time and you’ll be dead.”
“She’s smarter than that—”
Thomas waved him off. “Yeah, I know, I know. It’s obvious you have your mind made up. Just promise me you will be careful. Remember, I’ll probably suffer collateral damage from anything aimed at you.” He rolled his eyes at Michael’s sheepish grin.
“I’m going to tell you something I hope will help you feel better, but I don’t want you to make a big deal about it in front of Delia, okay?”
“What?”
“You remember when I praised her for being a good student of Jewish history?”
Thomas nodded warily. “Yeah.”
“Well, I know because she took the course from me. Apparently, her brother wanted her to take the ancient Hebrew language course I was teaching in Jerusalem.” Michael looked out toward the horizon. “That was last year, and she was only there for a semester, but we got to know each other pretty well in that time.”
“How well, Michael?”
“Let’s just say we became close friends. She seemed fascinated with me and my work. We spent the evenings talking about class, visiting museums, and sharing our hope of peace between our people.”
“It’s obvious why she was so fascinated with you. She was preparing for this day.”
“It was more than that. There’s no doubt in my mind she’ll do what she can to help us.” He picked up a small spade and walked toward the cave. “She’s afraid of him, you know.”
Everything fell into place for Thomas: the turkey leg, the giggling, and her eagerness to be part of the team. “I bet. He strikes me as the type of guy who wouldn’t think twice about killing his own sister if she dishonored him.” They made it to the mouth of the cave and dropped to their knees. “Just be careful.”
Michael nodded, his eyes thanking Thomas for his understanding.
“Oh, don’t thank me. I think this is by far the dumbest thing you have ever done.” Thomas extended his hand toward the opening. “Shall we, or would you prefer a few moments alone with her?”
Michael slipped in front of him. “Don’t start with me.”
As they entered the cave, they heard Delia’s shrill scream echo past them. On impulse, they both scurried into the cave, Michael calling her name. From the hole in the back, they saw Delia’s feet and legs backing out. Sharp, heavy breaths replaced her screams. Once out, she crawled to Michael and melted into his arms. Thomas shined his light on them. She was shivering and violently swiping her hands through her disheveled hair and at her shoulders.
“Get them off! Get them off!”
Michael frantically looked over her body from head to toe. “Get what off?” He gripped her shoulders. “Delia, look at me. Get what off?”
Her shivering died away as she turned her head to the hole. “Snakes.”
Michael and Thomas stared at each other. “There’s a brood of snakes in there. Hundreds of them.”
Thomas shined the light at the hole. “I didn’t think snakes traveled that far into caves.”
“Well, if you don’t believe me you can crawl in and see for yourself.”
“Oh, I believe you.” He shined the light back to Michael. “Why don’t you go and check it out?”
“Me? Why me? I hate snakes.”
“So do I. Besides, this cave was your pick.”
“I’m not sticking my head into that hole.”
“Fine,” Delia interrupted. “I’ll have Azim send men to clear out the snakes. We can start on the next cave.”
“You know,” Thomas said, “I don’t understand why a hardened killer shrieks over a few snakes.”
Delia rolled her eyes and crawled out of the cave. By the time Michael and Thomas caught up with her, she had already made her phone call. They returned their equipment to the truck and opened their packed lunches. Thomas wiped the imported Miller Light across his forehead, thankful it was still cool.
“So,” he said, “Michael tells me you two are quite an item.”
Michael choked on his cheese. Thomas was sure his reddish tint was from anger rather than asphyxiation. “Thomas …” The words caught in his throat. Thomas’s smile did not exactly help matters.
Delia’s eyes widened more than Thomas could have imagined. Then they narrowed as a sweet smile blossomed upon her face. “Michael, you’re not ashamed of me.”
“Delia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t be sorry. It feels good not to have to hide our feelings around Thomas.”
Thomas laughed. “Hide? If you’ve been trying to hide your feelings, we’re as good as dead. I take it your brother or uncle doesn’t know.”
“Are you kidding?” Michael asked. “They’d draw and quarter me if they did.”
“He’s right. I’m afraid even blood wouldn’t keep me safe from Azim’s wrath.”
“I suggest, then, you two be a little more careful than you’ve been. Remember good ol’ Fahd? I don’t think he’d think twice about outing you. And your uncle’s men may have their eyes on us as we speak.”
“We know the risk,” Delia said, “and we’re no fools. We don’t have a death wish.”
“Tell me, what do you expect from a relationship with Michael?”
“Thomas,” Michael said. “Please don’t do this—”
“I want to know. What would Israel’s number one enemy want from the nephew of the ambassador to the United States?”
“You want to know? Fine. The truth is I hate what my brother has turned me, his baby sister, into. I’m ashamed that I’m afraid to refuse him. I can kill a man without blinking, but I can’t capture a man’s heart. Not until Michael came along.
“So yeah, Doctor, I may be a cold-hearted assassin, but it feels good to be able to shriek when I see snakes. Michael is the only man who has made me comfortable being a woman.”
