Free Gates to Tangier by Mois Benarroch

future."

Tétouan
    â€“–––––––
    I t all happened quickly, so much so that I almost can't describe it. In less than an hour we kn ­ ew where Fátima was. We arrived in the early afternoon, and went immediately to the cemetery, climbing to the grave of our grandmother, Simi Benzimra. There we met a Jew from the city who we didn't kn ­ ow, but he had known our father and our family. He didn't know about Fátima, but he did know that our cousin Simi Benchimol, the wife of Isaac Benzimra, was living on the main street, Mohamed V. They're from another branch of the Benzimra family, not ours. Or maybe if we are related to them, you would have to go back six generations or more, to the beginning of the nineteenth century.
    He told us that Isaac worked for Minhha at the Tefila, and that we could find him there to ask about Fátima.
    "And why are you looking for her?”
    "My father left her something in his inheritance, and we want her to know."
    "How strange! I've never heard of inherit ­ ances being left to Fátimas . What a novelty.”
    "She was their parent's Fátima as well, so maybe they felt something special for her.”
    "Yes, could be, anything could be." The Jew had a malicious look on his face, as if he knew something that we didn't, but I preferred not to get into it ­ . After I said what I said, my siblings unders ­ tood that this would be why we were looking for Fatima. It was better not to have to explain further.
    My cousin's husband was in the synagogue. All the Jews that could go went, because otherwise it was very hard to find ten to form a minyan. The community had been limited to less than one hundred Jews, and under those circumstances there was no goo ­ d reason not to come to Tefilá . He invited us to dinner.
    "I'm sure Simi will be very happy to see you."
    Simi looked at us for a few moments before she realized we were her cousins.
    "You are so grown up!" She was older than o ­ ur oldest brother, Fortu, so for us she had alw ­ ays been the oldest cousin, almost the same age as our aunts and uncles.
    "All together! What a surprise! Come in, come in.” She was still standing at the door to her house, in shock.
    "I hope this isn't an imposition, coming by so suddenly."
    "Don't be so polite! Of course it is no imposition, we will put on four more potatoes and tha ­ t's dinner for everyone, how could it be an imposition? And what brings you all to Tétouan? Not that you need a reason, a year ago even Tio Samuel came, I never thought I would see him again. He is eighty-six years old. But there is always a reason.”
    "Papa died, and..."
    "Really?" Simi began to cry. "Ay, my dear uncle..."
    "Yes, that is why we have come. He asked us to find Fátima, his parent's Fátima. Fátima Elbaz, we thought that maybe you could tell us whe ­ re to find her.”
    "Isaac, you remember Fátima? Many Fátimas wor ­ ked with Jews, remember? Twenty years ago, or more, what would have happened to her? She went to work with the Azancot, or Benacot, Azancot or Benacot, what were they calle ­ d? Your uncle left her an inheritance, unbelievable! He was very sensitive, my dear uncle.”
    "Yeah, really sensitive," said Isaac cynically.
    "Yes, I remember, it was the Benacot that we ­ nt to Tangier, after the Alliance school closed, they had three small children and they left because of the school. They would sell fabric, clothes, had some import/export business, and leather too, remember them?”
    "Yes, of course I remember, they lived in Tangier until 1990, then they went to Casablanca, I saw them once in the butcher's shop when I went to Tangier to buy kosher meat. Now they live in Casablanca. We can call Mercedes Cohen, our cou ­ sin, and ask her for the Benacot's number, but let's eat first..."
    "If it isn't an imposition," said Silvia, "We're a bit nervous about this, we'd at least like to know if the woman