The Last Song

less than hurt Yonah or Master Abenatar. I told you – Yonah is my friend.”
    “He better be. There is no master who is kinder or more fair than Master Abenatar. You’d never know that he was a Jew!”
    I opened my mouth to ask him what the Jews had done to him to deserve such a hateful remark, but I thought better of it. It was no use making him angry if I wanted him to give me information. “Yonah talked about you to me. He said that you are a loyal person. Where is he? Where is your master? I have to speak to them right away!”
    His forehead puckered as he considered my question.
    I tried again. “So, what do you say? I have to find Yonah. Where is he?”
    “I guess there is no harm in telling you. The Jews have gone to their cemetery.”
    “Where is it?”
    “You really don’t know much, do you?”
    “I told you why. I don’t live in the Juderia.”
    He pointed to the north. “Follow the lane behind the house to the edge of the Juderia. You can’t miss it.”
    I heard the cries even before I saw the cemetery. It seemed that every Jew in Toledo had gone there to say a last good-bye to their loved ones. I passed graves where bearded men were placing stones on their parents’ graves. An old lady sat on the ground beside her long-departed husband’s grave, tears streaming down her face. Everywhere, men stood in groups of ten to chant the Mourners’ Kaddish in memory of the loved ones they had lost many years ago. The rabbi’s wife was hugging a slender, weeping girl.
    I looked around but I couldn’t see Yonah in the crowd.
    “Isabel, is that you?” He had found me. He took my hand. “What are you doing here?”
    “I came to tell you that we are hiding in a shed in the garden behind the house of my friend Brianda de Alvarez.”
    “Brianda de Alvarez? Is she not the daughter of Diego de Alvarez?”
    I nodded.
    “Diego de Alvarez is a familiar of the Inquisition. He doesn’t wear the black clothing of a familiar, like most of them do, but he is one of their informers. I am certain of this.”
    It took me a moment to understand his words. Tio Diego – an informer? An enemy of our family? Why, he used to carry me on his shoulders when I was a child. We shared meals in each other’s homes. He was family. His wife was my godmother, and his daughter my best friend. I remembered for a moment the figure I had seen in the corridor in the Grand Inquisitor’s palace. Could that have been Tio Diego? I no longer knew what to think.
    “The world doesn’t make sense anymore.”
    Yonah sighed. “No, it certainly doesn’t. But I don’t understand … why would Don Diego want to help you?”
    “He doesn’t. Neither does his wife. They wouldn’t even open their door to us when we went to ask them for help. Tio Diego and Tia Juana don’t know that Brianda offered us their shed as a hiding place.”
    “You’re lucky to have such a good friend!”
    “I know!” Then, more quietly, I added, “I wanted to tell you something else. Don Alfonso and Luis came to see us. They broke the betrothal contract. I am free.”
    Yonah grinned. “I am so glad! I must speak to your father.”
    “Not yet. Not until we are safe again. There is too much on his mind.”
    He leaned closer. “It won’t be easy to wait.”
    I felt too shy to meet his eyes.
    He laughed and released my hand. “Let’s go to my papa,” he said.
    He led me toward a grave a few steps away. Master Abenatar was standing next to it, his back to us. He was rubbing the top of the headstone with a cloth. We were too far away for me to read the inscription on it.
    “It’s my mother’s grave,” Yonah said. “My baby brother is buried beside her. Papa,” he said, “look!”
    Natan Abenatar turned around. He stared at me for a long moment before holding out his hand. “Doña Isabel, I almost didn’t recognize you in these clothes. Are you all right?”
    “I am, because of you. I came to thank you for offering us a way to freedom.”
    The pious man did not want to hear my words. “It is I who should be thanking you, Doña Isabel. I am grateful that I can offer help to your family. The Talmud says that if you save one life, you save the world.” He rubbed the headstone again. “Who would have thought …” He shook his head. “We will comefor you at sunrise.” His eyes roamed around the cemetery. “It is so hard to leave our loved ones. We haven’t the power to withstand the injustices heaped upon our heads.”
    “What do you