My Guardian Angel by Sylvie Weil

looks?”
    â€œThey are Naomi and Rachel, Muriel’s cousins. They come from the country. They don’t mean to look at you that way; they just don’t know who you are.”
    â€œI feel like I’m seeing double. Are they twins?” asks Marguerite with a note of fear in her voice.
    When she hears Elvina’s reply, she quickly crosses herself. “They say that twins bring bad luck.”
    â€œNo, they don’t,” retorts Elvina. “It’s quite the opposite, in fact!”
    Marguerite gives a skeptical nod and changes the subject. “So, it seems you’re afraid of the Crusaders? Why? They set up camp calmly in the fields and barns, and they don’t harm anyone.”
    â€œOh yes, they do!” shout the twins in unison. They are red with anger.
    Marguerite bursts out laughing. “Your young friends are so funny. They look all ruffled up like a couple of chickens who have been chased by a dog! But I didn’t mean to upset them.”
    Smiling, Marguerite takes Elvina by the arm. “Listen, Elvina, I see you have your basket with you. You wouldn’t happen to have a remedy for Jeanne’s stomachache, would you? It would save me a trip to the apothecary.”
    â€œI have some barley water to purge her and chamomile, which will stop the pain.”
    â€œPlease come over to our house,” says Marguerite. “It’s not far, and it would make Jeanne so happy.”
    Elvina hesitates. What if there are Crusaders at Marguerite’s farm? She wants to refuse and say she has to go back home, but she doesn’t want to offend Marguerite by looking as though she doesn’t trust her. She is frightened.
    While she is hesitating, she feels someone pinching her leg. Down by her feet, the old idiot beggar is grinning and laughing, dribbling into his beard. His rags hardly cover him. He drags himself over the skins toward Elvina. “You’re in less of a hurry than you were the other day, little lady. Give me something from your basket. A magic potion to give my legs the strength to carry me again, so that I, too, will be able to escape when the Crusaders chase after me.”
    Elvina kneels down next to him. Never before has she taken the trouble to look into this man’s eyes. True enough, they are crazy eyes, but, above all, they are filled with terror, even when he laughs.
    For the twelve and a half years that she has been alive, Elvina has never given much thought to fear. Of course, she is familiar with the dread she feels of Judah ben Nathan’s disapproval and the terror that everyone knows at the dead of night or the fear inspired by a rabid dog or the sight of a serpent slithering away underfoot in the summer fields.
    But right now, Elvina is getting used to an entirely different kind of fear, which she has never felt before. She can sense this new fear all around her, and she is beginning to recognize it. The beggar, still clinging to her skirt, whines, “Please give me a remedy; the Lord will repay you. I may not look it, but I assure you, I am a worthy son of Israel.”
    â€œAre you in pain?” asks Elvina.
    â€œMy head aches as if someone was hitting me,” he replies.
    Elvina rummages around in her basket and pulls out a vial. “I can do nothing for your legs, but rub this ointment into your temples. It’s made of ashes mixed with vinegar; it will do you good.”
    Marguerite is starting to get impatient. She tugs at Elvina’s sleeve, pulling her to her feet. “Come on. If you have time to care for this poor wretch, you certainly have time to visit your friend Jeanne.”
    Elvina kisses Naomi and Rachel and tells them to go home.
    Now Marguerite and Elvina are walking quickly, their clogs clip-clopping over the ground. They have soon gone beyond the Jewish quarter, and Elvina feels uneasy. How life has changed! Only two weeks ago she would walk around in any part of this town without a second