Page 1 of In Just a Year
CHAPTER1
As one of six, Ben was used to a large family and lots of noise at crowded dining tables, but this day was particularly boisterous. The crowd had gathered at Gideon’s townhouse to welcome him and his wife back to England from France. Although it was an elegant three-story rowhouse within a short distance of 35 Regent Street, the Klonimus’ jewelry store and workshop, it was too small for so many people, and every room was filled. And Ben was glad about it because his big brother was back with his lovely wife, Rosie, and Ben had returned with them. Everyone was in awe of Gideon, Ben’s oldest brother because he’d always been the first at everything, including finding a piece of the treasure abroad. Ben had traveled to meet them in France to deliver their papers and ensure safe passage for them and her parents, but he wished he’d also found something special.
“Did you find a gem?” Fave Pearler asked Gideon.
“It’s not a gem,” Ben mumbled who was standing nearby.
“Have you seen it?” Fave asked, but before Ben could say “yes,” Gideon waved Fave and Arnold into his study.
Ben followed to get away from the excited chatter and to hear what Fave and Arnold would think of Gideon’s finding, the result of his trip to France following a treasure hunt established by Izaac Pearler, Fave and Arnold’s grandfather, some four or five decades ago. Izaac had hidden a raft of clues and created a secretive map etched into a quartz to lead them to each one. Ben had only just been born when Izaac had died. Although Ben didn’t remember him, Papa always spoke of him like a brother who both infuriated and delighted him.
Fave shut the door with a click and came to Gideon’s desk, where Arnold and Ben were already looking at the velvet pouch that Gideon held. He opened the drawstring and pulled out the silver dreidel. It demonstrated outstanding craftsmanship and was in remarkable shape for something that had been immersed in saltwater for half a century, although the carvings on the outside were barely legible, worn as if it had been polished too much.
Gideon held it up. “It’s not what we expected. There’s no gem here.”
Fave picked it up and tried—unsuccessfully—to spin it, leaving a scratch on the mahogany desk. “Oh dear!”
Gideon cast him a frown. Even though their workstations were marked from their jewelry craft, Ben knew that his oldest brother liked to have a well-waxed and polished desk for his paperwork at home.
Fave gave the dreidel a shake, but it made no sound.
Ben had held the dreidel and examined it for hours. Days. He couldn’t work out how this old top fit into their treasure hunt. If there wasn’t a gem, Izaac Pearler must have hidden something else in it. “I sent you a note. It has hinges but it’s missing the tip.”
“You found this in the water without any casing?” Arnold asked.
Gideon nodded. “It was covered with algae and barnacles. It had obviously been there for a long time.”
Fave handed his cousin Arnold the dreidel, who inspected it upside down, and said, “I don’t think the tip’s missing. Let’s try something.” He used the tone he usually reserved for when he came into the workshop with a new tool he’d invented.
Arnold had large shares in a fleet that imported pearls from Asia and America. He understood engineering best of them all. Whenever the jewelers needed a certain instrument or a device to make their craft more efficient, Arnold invented, built, and tinkered until it was perfect.
From his inside waistcoat pocket, Arnold produced a small silver key that glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. He studied it, eyes alive with a spark of curiosity. “This is the key I found in theketer.” He’d rescued some sacred Jewish scrolls from the old synagogue’s ruins after a fire. While cleaning the beautiful silver crowns that adorned the wooden staffs of the Torah, theketers, the key had popped out.
He held it up, but it didn’t look much like a key, rather like a twisted block with a little handle, like the tool Raphi used to tune the grand piano in their parents’ parlor. The pattern on it matched the dreidel’s design. “I’ve long suspected that grandfather linked the designs to point us in a certain direction.”
Fave leaned in. “Grandfather never did anything without a reason. I wonder why this dreidel matches the Torah?”
“Not all of it,” Ben said. “Only the edges match. I knew I’d seen that pattern somewhere else, but now you’ve mentioned the Torah, I know where.”
Arnold held the dreidel horizontally. “It’s like a frame.”
“More like a trim along the edges.” Ben pointed along the carving to a delicate pattern reminiscent of arrowheads. “Look! They all point in the same direction.”
“It’s a path.” Excitement colored Gideon’s voice.
“No, it’s an axis.” Fave trailed his fingers along the path. “That’s why Grandfather matched the pattern of the trim.”
“So that’s why I found the key?” Arnold asked.
“He wanted us to find it.” Fave had always been the closest to their grandfather, sharing his passion for mythology and history. “In architecture, the axis refers to an imaginary line that guides the viewer’s gaze, creating a sense of visual flow and directing attention towards a focal point.”
With a steady hand and a twinkle in his eye, Arnold inserted the key into the jagged hole on the bottom of the dreidel. With a little nudging, he turned it and something clicked.
Ben felt a surge of anticipation as it opened, revealing its mysterious contents.
Rosie came in, hands covered in flour, carrying a lump of buttery dough and a besotted smile for Gideon. “Smell this dough, it’s so rich, it’s…” She stilled when she caught the expressions on Fave, Arnold, and Gideon’s faces, all crowded around Gideon’s desk.
Arnold held the dreidel—or rather what had been a dreidel—which had opened like a lotus flower blossom. That explained the need for hinges!
