He learned also that these orders from Plan D needed explanation to the militia leaders since the official word from the public press and politicians warned that the Jewish people were “facing the danger of annihilation.”
Eldad frowned and leaned toward the man next to him. “ Do our people really believe that?”
“Apparently that is the word our politicians are putting out. That the Arabs are powerful and will get rid of us. So we need to explain to our commanders that the reality is quite different.”
A tall officer rose to tell how he reassured his troops; “Today we have all the arms we need; they are already aboard ships, and the British are leaving and then we bring in the weapons, and the whole situation at the fronts will change.”
Chapter 19
Sabria, at home in Tantura, thinking how important historical records had become in telling an accurate story of the past, decided to keep a journal of all that was happening. The universal fear of her people must be documented by facts instead of rumors that flew wildly from village to village. She traveled during the daytime by bus or sometimes taxi from Haifa to Tel Aviv, often walking long distances to villages. Sometimes she traveled with and on other occasions against the flow of people leaving their villages. Many were walking, some rode on trucks or lesser modes of transportation. Her interviews and picture taking documented the result of night attacks and the despair of people fleeing for their lives. The universal spirit of resistance involved carrying the key to the abandoned house that soon became a symbol of their determination to return home someday.
On the road heading east near Umm Khalid Sabria walked with a family struggling with burdens on their backs, their belongings wrapped in blankets serving as backpacks. Several trucks had passed, too crammed full with refugees to stop.
In response to her questions, the father showed Sabria the key. With his wife behind encouraging tired children to keep up, he volunteered that they were forced to leave at gunpoint. “I argued with the soldiers as they entered the house. They were welcome as guests, but that we shouldn’t have to go. We had nowhere to go, no nearby family.”
“So what did they do?”
“They pointed a gun at my children and told us we had one hour to gather whatever we wanted to take. We had no choice but to go. Abandon our family home of many generations.”
“Where will you go?”
“We don’t know. We are at least hoping to get to the Arab territory and find some shelter. We have become refugees and don’t know of any camps for us. But there must be places for us somewhere.”
***
Tantura seemed safe for the immediate future. The town council, including her grandfather had decided to negotiate with the militia leaders when appropriate to comply with their demands short of expulsion. Primarily, not harboring resistance fighters and snipers. This plan freed her to travel along the coastal plain during the daytime. Distances not great enabled her to return home by bus every evening before any trouble started.
Toward the end of March, Judith, from the safety of Tantura, had expressed increasing worry about her husband still at home in Haifa, carrying on at work. She had not heard anything from him for two weeks. Even with the telephone lines down there, he could call from work. She tried to hide her concerns from their children, playing happily at the family home in Tantura.
On her return one evening Sabria saw Judith in tears, alone in the kitchen. She hugged her aunt. “Still no word from your husband?”
“Nothing. I would think he’d call, or come here. It’s not that far from Haifa. I don’t know what has happened.”
“And there is no way to find out?”
“I called the shipping company where he works. He has not shown up for work in a week.”
Sabria put her arm around her aunt, who broke into sobs. After a minute of silence, “I am planning to visit Haifa. Let me investigate. I’ll go out to your house to find him.”
Judith took a deep breath and looked at her niece. Blinking back her tears, she tried to speak. “I don’t know if that would be safe for you. I appreciate the offer. I haven’t wanted to leave the children or worry them.”
“I know. I’m going tomorrow.”
***
She waited outside his classroom as she had previously. It seemed strange to be back at the Technion, no longer a student and her wanting to meet Caleb again. But she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he would even accompany her to her Aunt Judith’s house as before. Caleb always seemed interested to be with her. Sabria did not understand her own feelings. Maybe she was too forward toward this American. Her heart speeded up as students emerged from the class. She felt her face flushing as she saw him walking toward her, tall, animated and engaged in conversation with a female Jewish student. He didn’t see her. Thoughts raced through her mind. Should she call out, or let him pass. She couldn’t bring herself to follow him. Perhaps it would be better to simply go on her mission to find her uncle.
At the last second before he passed her going down the hall, Caleb saw her out of the corner of his eye apparently. He quickly excused himself from a conversation with a fellow student and rushed to greet Sabria. His eyes wide and with a broad grin and a wrinkled brow, he grabbed her hand. “What? . . . what a surprise! I didn’t know you came back to school. How long have you been here?”
“Ten minutes.” Sabria laughed.
“Okay, you just came back to sign up for next term?”
“No.” Sabria looked serious.
“So why then did you come. I’m in shock.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”
“Well, whatever your reasons, let’s go have coffee, or maybe tea.”
“I’d like that.”
***
Caleb kept looking at Sabria as he paid for her tea. He followed with his coffee and flat bread. The student lounge packed with loud young people faded into the background as he sat down. Beautiful as ever, her eyes shining, face flushed, his own heart seemed to thump in his chest. He must be dreaming again. He had thought about her a lot when he tried to study, and kept seeing her somehow in his mind’s eye. Such an unusual girl. So dedicated to her people. But what brought her here again? And why did she wait outside of his class to see him? He took a deep breath. “So tell me really, why did you come back to Haifa?”
Sabria reminded him of her Aunt Judith and her family in eastern Haifa that they had visited after the neighbor family’s house blew up. She related that her husband had not contacted Judith for two weeks and then failed to appear for work.
“What a tragedy.” Caleb shook his head. “Beginning with that father at work who escaped the bombing and then disappeared. He had nothing to come back to. I have thought about that many times with so much going on in Haifa. And now this in your family.”
“We want to know what is happening. So I volunteered to go out to the house to try to find out if he’s there and if not, where he is.”
“That does not surprise me, Sabria. But why did you stop at the Technion if you are not registering for classes?”
She suddenly flushed again just like outside the classroom. “I thought . . . well maybe hoped . . . that you might go with me again to the house to check on things.” She cleared her throat and started to say something more, but stopped.
“You have no idea how much I would like to do just that, Caleb said. “We have been through so much together at the refinery and Hawassa. I have wanted to reach you many times since then but didn’t know how to find you. I’ve learned much just being here in the city and seeing what is going on. It’s almost unbelievable. Things I never heard about in America.”
Sabria smiled. “I’m glad you’re learning. It may get worse.”
“But more than that, I’ve been thinking about you, Sabria. That evening at the Gershwin concert . . . I’ve relived it many times. He paused and swallowed trying to control his feelings. “But I had no way to reach you.” He tried to continue but couldn’t and finally took a dee
p breath with a shrug of his shoulders.
She looked at him intently. “I’m so sorry I didn’t provide at least a telephone number. We live just outside Tantura village on a farm overlooking the sea. You would be most welcome to come on a visit sometime.”
“Really? I appreciate that.” He tried desperately to stay cool and not disclose his joy at the invitation. “But now here you are and we can have some time together at least today. I have a class scheduled this afternoon, but let’s forget about that and get on a bus to your uncle’s home.”
***
The scene reminded Caleb of something out of a horror movie. Occasional houses still standing interspersed by rubble piles, all that remained of what once were small but pleasant homes. Even those intact seemed empty. Occasionally a dog barked suggesting a few families remained. They traced their way through the small streets and alleyways and soon heard the noise of a bulldozer. Rounding a corner, they saw a militia soldier with a rifle watching the machine scrape up the debris of someone’s home. The driver wore a yarmulke.
Nodding at the soldier they walked on. He looked no more than eighteen years old and didn’t seem to know what to do with them. So he let them pass. Then the familiar street—a few houses left, no residents to be seen. And finally they could identify the property by the tree and short fence still standing. The rest of the small lot contained a pile of rubble with a few bits of furniture partially destroyed and burned. No one in sight.
Sabria dissolved into quiet tears. She stood looking at the remnants of her aunt’s family home. Her uncle was nowhere to be seen. Caleb put his arm over her shaking shoulders and stood silently by while she mourned. He then moved into the rubble burned dark by a fire now cold. Stumbling over partially destroyed cinder blocks, looking for any signs of life, he found her uncle’s ID cards under some partially burned clothes. He also found body parts, and quickly covered them with rubble, ostensibly looking for more evidence. He slipped the cards into his pocket and turned to Sabria.
Caleb stood silently by her, taking her arm gently. She probably knew her uncle was gone. The rest of the family could never return. There would be nothing to come back to for the foreseeable future. The tragic events in Haifa had now become personal for this very special friend. Tears gathered in his own eyes as he stood with her wondering why this had to be.
After several minutes Sabria composed herself. “I still don’t know where my uncle might be. He could have died in the blast.”
Caleb nodded. “Let’s go back. It’s still only early afternoon. We have time to talk.” He fingered the ID card in his pocket and exhaled slowly. He would have to tell Sabria what he found.
***
He sat across from her silently at the small restaurant near the Technion watching Sabria pick at her salad. His heart ached for this lovely person. The tragedies they had witnessed together at the refinery and Hawassa, had become intensely personal. Caleb wanted to protect her, to envelop her in his arms, to say it wasn’t true.
“It must have happened at night because that’s when they do the bombing,” Sabria finally spoke.
“I think so, with evidence of a fire as well.”
“All that and the fact that my uncle hasn’t called the family suggests that he must have died in the explosion and fire.”
“You’re right, Sabria. He did. I found his ID card.” He reached in his pocket and gave it to her.
She stared at Caleb. People carried their identification document with them at all times, particularly with trouble brewing. Picking up the card she gazed at it and began to shake her head. “Could he have left it at home and been elsewhere?”
“I don’t think so. I did find some of his body in the rubble. Not much left.”
“Then it is true,” Sabria clenched her fist and shook it. My uncle died for no reason. I need to go, Caleb. Aunt Judith needs to know.”
She couldn’t finish her salad and falafel. Looking in her purse, she found a piece of paper, scribbled her address and telephone number and gave it to him. “I’m going to do everything I can to help my people, wherever they are.” She quickly rose, paid for her meal, and turned to Caleb. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other again, but you now have my information. Thank you for being with me. I can’t thank you enough.” She stuck out her hand in the American way, they shook hands and then she turned on her heel and left.
Caleb stood dumbfounded, shaking his head. The mourning and shocked girl suddenly had become a woman of steel. He couldn’t put everything together including whatever feelings she had for him, and his growing desire to be with her. He had wanted to spend more time with Sabria, but realized it couldn’t be now in the midst of her family loss. What did she mean by her determined statement about helping her people? And ‘wherever they are.’ Would she be traveling? Would she be safe? Too many questions raced through his mind as he wandered back to the campus, thinking of Sabria and what she faced ahead.
Chapter 20
Liana looked out her window at the Bedouin street peddler walking down the middle of the street outside her home in Qatamon. She often bought produce from him, particularly recently as March drew to a close. The Bedouin yoghurt and goat cheese had become a family favorite. A pleasant old man, they frequently exchanged news along with the business transaction. He had told her of the increasing tension along the major highway connecting Jerusalem to Tel Aviv on the coast. Getting fresh fruit and vegetables from the Jaffa area had become difficult and more expensive as delivery vehicles often could not get through the intermittent blockades. However most of the Arab villages along the way remained intact facilitating their control of the highway. In addition, irregular skirmishes with Jewish fighters attempting to terrorize and drive out the residents complicated transportation.
That paralleled the snipers both Arab and Jewish in several village areas of Jerusalem, including Qatamon. It along with Sheikh Jarrah and others, found themselves on the seam between the Arab-controlled East and the increasingly Jewish-dominated West Jerusalem. So it had become an irregular battleground of snipers on both sides. Liana could not let her children play in the street any longer. They had to remain in the house, on the veranda in front, or the small courtyard in back.
She had just stepped out to walk to the edge of the street to meet her Bedouin friend. As he approached closer she noted his familiar dress, a dusty and worn brown cloak and a black-checkered keffiyeh covering his head. He walked in the middle of the street carrying his produce and pushing a small cart as well. No cars drove the street. The traffic had almost disappeared as tension mounted over the past several weeks.
Suddenly shots rang out from across the street. Her Bedouin friend suddenly crumpled over his cart and blood flowed into the street. Lianna screamed and ran toward the children who had followed her onto the veranda. She herded them quickly into the house and shut the curtains. The pent-up tensions of several weeks came bursting out. “You bastards!” she screamed. “How could you do this to an innocent old man?” She shook with sobs while her small children stared wide-eyed at their mother, usually so calm. They instinctively gathered around her, hugging and crying. She held them in her arms as they stood in the middle of the front room all in tears.
***
The family surrounded Sabria in the front room of the house. Her mother, Hava, had seen her walking up the road from Tantura Village as she turned into the lighted driveway. It had been about twelve hours since she left for Haifa and would be bringing news of some sort about Judith’s husband and their home. Judith had tried to remain calm for her children’s sake, and had not told them of Sabria’s going to investigate the situation. They talked about their father every day, and wondered why they couldn’t go back home to see him. They had gone to sleep talking about the day he would come and take them all home.
The anticipation of good news brightened Judith’s eyes. She knew in her heart that he was fine, and had not had the opportunity of letting them hear from him. He was a man of few words, devoted t
o his wife and children. So Judith had felt encouraged as Adnan walked to the door to let Sabria in.
Hava brought out a tray with the teapot and several cups. They exchanged greetings. Judith noticed Sabria did not smile as usual. She watched her niece carefully for a few moments before blurting out, “Tell us what you found.”
“The news is not good, Aunt Judith.”
She stared intently at Sabria and felt dizzy, as though she would faint. “What do you mean?”
“We found your home. I am so sorry. I’m sure it was the right one, had the tree and fence that I remember on the correct street. A bomb has demolished the house. Just rubble left, and evidence of a fire burning most of the things inside. I feel so badly for you, Aunt Judith.”
“What about . . . my dear husband? Any news about him?” Judith began to shiver. Sabria quickly moved to kneel beside and embrace her. “I feel terrible to bring you this.” Reaching into her pocket, she showed her aunt the ID card. “My friend Caleb who went with me found this under some unburned fragments of clothes and gave it to me.”
Judith took the card, and began to sob. Sabria hugged her tightly and the rest gathered around to comfort her. Adnan looked up, praying the ancient words, “How long, oh Lord?” He stopped for several moments and then began again, “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his saints.”
Through her tears Judith said, “The children will be devastated.”
***
Sabria hadn’t slept well, churning over in her mind the events of the previous day, the tragic demolition of the house and murder of her uncle. She worried about Judith and the children. What would they do? Where would they go? They must stay in Tantura and safety. But would it remain immune from trouble?
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