Valley of Thracians (9 page)

Chapter
19

“Do you know the story of Bulgaria’s
Jews?”

The bearded man asking the question,
wearing a dark suit jacket and sporting a small black yarmulke on his head,
stood in the doorway of the Sofia synagogue, eager to welcome the American
professor to the central edifice of Judaism in Bulgaria.

 
“No, I really don’t know anything,” Simon
said.

“Please, come inside, and I will tell
you our story,” the rabbi said, beckoning Simon to enter the building.

Simon checked his watch and saw that he
was early for the unplanned appointment. The strange, unsigned message that had
been waiting for him upon his return to the hotel the previous night had not
identified the person he was to meet, nor had it provided details about what
was to transpire. All that the short message said was: “Meet me at the Sofia
synagogue tomorrow morning at 11 for important information regarding your
grandson.”

The rabbi reached out and guided Simon
into the building. “During World War II, Bulgaria sided with Nazi Germany. Tsar
Boris III and the Bulgarian parliament enacted the Law for the Protection of
the Nation, which introduced numerous legal restrictions on Jews in the country,”
he said. “But unlike the other European countries that fell under Nazi
occupation, Bulgaria was able to save its Jewish population, numbering nearly
fifty thousand. That cannot be credited to Tsar Boris III but rather to the
Bulgarian Church and the ordinary citizens who rose up against any attempt to
deport their Jewish neighbors. In the years after the war, most Bulgarian Jews
emigrated
to the newly established state of Israel.

 
“Unfortunately, some ten thousand Jews living
in Macedonia and other Bulgarian-administrated territories could not be
rescued, and they were transported to the death camps. But Bulgarian Jewry was
saved, and for this miracle and for the kindness of the Bulgarian people, we
are forever grateful.”

“I didn’t know that,” Simon said, the
story distracting him from the reason he had come to the synagogue. “Are there
many Jews in Bulgaria today?”

“We number about six thousand in total,
with some two thousand living in Sofia itself. I, myself, come from Israel and
am serving the Jewish community here at the synagogue. I assume you are
Jewish.”

“Yes,” Simon replied, adjusting his
Chicago Cubs cap as he followed the rabbi past a wall of donor plaques into the
synagogue’s central hall. A guilty thought raced through his mind as he remembered
the grilled pork specialties he had enjoyed in Vratsa. “I have to admit, I
never knew that Bulgaria was so friendly to the Jews.”

“Bulgaria as a whole is a very welcoming
country, mostly secular in nature,” the rabbi replied. “There is relatively little
anti-Semitism here.”

The rabbi explained that the Central
Sofia Synagogue was the second-largest Sephardic synagogue in Europe, and Simon
recognized this term as referring to Jews with origins in Spain and Portugal.
The rabbi continued by saying that Friedrich Grunanger, an Austrian architect,
designed the building, and construction began in 1905.

“Take a look at the brass chandelier,”
the rabbi said, pointing proudly upwards at the high ceiling of the main
sanctuary. “Manufactured in Vienna and weighing over 2,200 kilograms, it is the
largest chandelier in all of Bulgaria.”

Simon was stunned at the synagogue’s
beauty. The rows of hard wooden benches were framed by alcoves marked by
colorful columns and archways, painted brightly in magnificent ornamental
designs. Above, Simon could see the partially hidden women’s section. And at
the front of the hall was the raised
bimah
,
with its curtained
aron kodesh
safeguarding the holy Torah scrolls within.

“During the bombing of Sofia in 1944,
our synagogue was hit several times,” the rabbi said. “The balcony was
partially destroyed, as were a number of these columns. Most of our Judaic
library was lost. Restoration work continued for many years, but I am proud to
report that this September we will celebrate the one hundredth anniversary of
the Central Sofia Synagogue. The president of Bulgaria and many other
high-ranking dignitaries will attend a special ceremony to mark this momentous
occasion. The synagogue is the symbol of Bulgarian Jewry and its secure footing
in this country.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very
informative,” Simon said to the rabbi. “By the way, my name is Professor Simon
Matthews, from Chicago,” he said, wondering if this introduction would result
in a response connected to his missing grandson.

“Nice to meet you,” the rabbi said,
shaking Simon’s hand again. “I invite you to attend our
minyan
on Erev Shabbat at eight o’clock. We don’t have enough
daveners
to fill the sanctuary, so we
use a study hall for our services. We could certainly use you in our
minyan
.”

The rabbi turned to greet another
visitor. Apparently he wasn’t the one who had called the hotel with a hint of
information about Scott. Simon wandered around the sanctuary alone for a few
minutes and then went back outside to the gated courtyard.

Who was supposed to meet him here? The
message had been quite specific about the time, but perhaps the hotel
receptionist had made a mistake when transcribing it? He was starting to worry
that he had missed the scheduled rendezvous.

“Are you Professor Matthews?”

“Yes,” he replied, turning to face the
security guard who had originally opened the gate for him at the courtyard
entrance.

“This was left for you,” the guard said,
handing Simon a manila envelope.

Simon’s hands shook as he took the
envelope. He was barely able to contain his excitement as he opened it,
expecting to find a letter inside listing instructions as to where he was to
meet his grandson.

There was no note inside the envelope,
only a fine silver chain with a Magen David pendant. Simon recognized it
immediately. It was the gift he had given to Scott on the occasion of his
grandson’s bar mitzvah. There was no mistaking it.

“Who gave this to you?” he asked the
guard, who had returned to his security booth.

“A woman.”

“What was her name? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know this woman. It was her
first time to our synagogue.”

What did this mean? Did this prove that
Scott was still alive? Was the chain evidence that Scott was somewhere in
Bulgaria? Or had this chain been removed from Scott’s body at the time of his
death? The Magen David remained silent, offering no clue as to which
possibility was true.

He had to find that woman! He again
turned to the guard.

“When was she here? What was she
wearing? Which way did she go?”

“So many questions.
As I said, I don’t know this woman. She came here, and then she went.”

Simon placed the envelope and its very
valuable and sentimental content into the outer pocket of the travel bag he had
brought with him. He needed to get back to the hotel to make some phone calls.
He was on the trail of his missing grandson at last!

Chapter
20

Dear Simon,

You’re probably a bit surprised to hear
from me. I know that we rarely talked—or more accurately, barely communicated
—
over
the years. I guess that this was primarily my fault, but that’s just the way I
am. Well, now is as good a time as any to try to mend that error. I apologize
for this.

Things haven’t been going well for me
lately. Ok, I admit it. I’ve been a total emotional wreck these past three
years. You witnessed my sorry state when you last saw me. I could hardly talk
to anyone. Please don’t think you were being singled out. I avoided contact
with many people, including some of my dearest friends.

And that certainly wasn’t fair, as
you’ve been through a major loss of your own. I can’t imagine how difficult
it’s been for you without Marcia. I miss her so much.

I know that Daniel argued against your
going to Bulgaria, but I don’t see the harm in your journey. When you called to
tell us that you had retrieved Scott’s silver chain, I was beside myself.
That Magen David chain also had a
chai
symbol, and that’s the Jewish symbol of
life.
Your
receiving the chain and its symbol of
chai
must mean that Scott is really ok! You have
given me renewed hope!

There’s something else I’ve wanted to
share with you, as this information could help you trace Scott’s whereabouts in
Bulgaria. Daniel and I have kept something from you all these years, something
we’ve known about our son. You were probably not aware that Scott always had a wild
side, a part of his personality that was difficult to control. I’m talking as a
parent who strived to rear Scott into becoming a full, compassionate, mature
adult. It wasn’t an easy task due to the way he was, how he acted.

Ok, there’s no simple way to say this.
Scott was involved in drugs. I don’t know exactly where or how it started. I
guess it was during his high school years, when all his friends were smoking
weed. He must have felt a need to conform to the norms of his group. But unlike
his friends, who smoked marijuana recreationally at parties and on weekends,
Scott just couldn’t get enough.

There were so many nights when Daniel
and I would pass Scott’s closed bedroom door, and the stench of pot was
overpowering. Daniel tried once or twice to confront Scott, to get him to
refrain from smoking drugs in the house, but this led to serious friction
between the two. I just couldn’t take it.

I wish I could say that Scott’s drug
habits stopped there, in high school, but when he began college, things got worse.
He smoked pot, and I can’t even imagine what other stuff he was taking. I know
this because he was expelled from school for a number of weeks after he was
caught stoned in the university library. Scott was ready to give up everything
at that point, to drop out of school, to take the easy way out.

Let’s call him what he was. My son was
an addict.

Daniel and I tried to help Scott by
getting him counseling. The university insisted on this as well, but
regrettably, it didn’t work. I can tell you that this was a very difficult
period for all of us. You didn’t know anything about it, but I think Marcia
guessed what was going on. She called Daniel on the phone many times to discuss
Scott’s problems, but Daniel refused to tell her anything negative about her grandson.

Then Scott got his act together. Deep
down inside, he was really a good kid, after all. Remember how generous he was
donating all his bar mitzvah checks to charity? He could be really considerate
and caring when he wanted to, and I guess he wisely came to the conclusion that
it would be best in the long run if he got a decent college education. He went
back to his books, studied hard, and graduated.

We were so proud of him. I know that you
and Marcia were proud of him as well, but you had no clue how far Scott had
actually come to achieve this.

Then we were so pleased to learn that
Scott intended to volunteer in the Peace Corps. That seemed exactly the right
next step for him. We encouraged him. He was accepted and was informed that he
would serve in Bulgaria.
When
he enlisted in the Peace Corps, Daniel and I were certain that Scott’s
addictive behavior was finally behind him, that he had turned a new page in his
life. We truly believed that he had gone to Bulgaria with a clean slate, and
this meant being clean of drugs.

This
was not the case.

I
don’t know who he got the drugs from, whether from a fellow volunteer or from
local Bulgarians, but Scott began using again. Apparently his addiction got
worse, much worse than before. I’m sure he was doing hard drugs as well.

I
wonder if Lance, his good friend from the Peace Corps, knew that Scott was
doing drugs, but I would assume that he did. If Scott mentioned these things to
me, he must have been telling Lance as well. Maybe Lance was just as involved
or as addicted as Scott.

So
that’s how it was. Scott was over there in Bulgaria, doing drugs, and drugs
cost money. I doubt Scott took much cash with him when he left the States. Here
in LA, his bank account was empty. Where did he get the money to purchase drugs?
The allowance you receive from the Peace Corps wouldn’t cover this expense,
that’s for sure.

Scott
informed me that he had taken on some odd jobs for his host father. The two of
them started some sort of partnership in that town where he initially lived. I
don’t know exactly what business it was, but thinking back, I tend to believe
that it wasn’t entirely legal. Scott said the pay was good. I asked Scott if
what he was doing was dangerous, and he assured me that I had nothing to worry
about. No one would harm him because he was an American, he told me.

What
did that mean? Oh, I wish I had discussed this with Daniel at the time! Maybe
Daniel could have done something to help Scott? Maybe he would have flown to
Bulgaria to bring my son home. Now it’s too late!

I
stopped for a while after writing those lines because reliving what happened to
Scott during those weeks makes me cry. All of this brings back the memories,
the pain.
I am tired after this
outburst of words.
I didn’t want to tell you everything, Simon, because
I didn’t want to hurt you. Why should you know what Scott was doing? Why should
you be aware of his drug habit, his addiction,
his
sickness?

I
didn’t want to ruin your perception of Scott as the perfect grandson.

Maybe if you had known what Scott was
like during those trouble-filled years you might have felt less compelled to go
to Bulgaria now to try to find out what had happened to
him.
Even though Daniel won’t say it, I’m glad you went.

I
hope you will continue your search, no matter what you now know of your
grandson, and no matter how hard Daniel will try to convince you to return to
the States. Finding Scott’s silver chain is a positive sign. I hope and pray
you’ll be successful. I worry about you, Simon, so please take care!

Love,

Susan