“No. I haven’t had the interest I guess. That never really bothered me. All I know is that I grew up unhappy. I loved to fight as a kid. Somehow I ended up in the army with the British in Europe.”
“How old are you?”
“I think I remember having my twenty-eighth birthday while I was in University somewhere. The whole thing is hazy, but I had nobody with me. I do remember feeling sorry about that.”
Valerie stared at him. Something about him, the way he talked, the sadness in his life, apparently alone in the world. Didn’t like his adoptive parents. The expressions of his face stirred up something deep inside her. The slip of paper with her name on it and phone number. What did all this mean?
Then she realized they had never exchanged names. “I’m Valerie and you are . . . ?”
“My name is Eldad. Cohen is the last name, but I don’t identify with that name. I guess it is official though.”
At that moment the Arab woman appeared in the kitchen, not realizing that Eldad was there before she rounded the corner from the front room. “Oh,” she said as she stopped and felt her head for the absent hijab. “I didn’t know you were awake,” turning to Eldad speaking in English.
He furrowed his brow. “Wait a minute.” He turned to Valerie, “You said you were Jewish.”
“I am,” Valerie smiled.
“Then why do you have this Arab lady living with you?”
“Because she is my friend and I invited her and her family to stay with me for awhile. They lost their home and had nowhere to go.”
“Why, what happened to their home?”
“It was destroyed by a bomb.”
Eldad stared at Valerie and then her guest. He looked back and forth at them silently. His mouth opened but no sound came out. He put his hand on his forehead and rubbed it. “I. . . I don’t. . . understand. I came here somehow and you, a Jewish woman saved my life. I remember hating the dirty Arabs and I think I have done things to them that I can’t recall. Did I have anything to do with the bombing? And now I find you have this enemy family in your home as a Jew. What is going on? I’m all confused.”
“It’s really quite simple, Eldad. Yes, I’m Jewish and I believe in the Torah, that we should love our neighbor as our self and welcome the stranger. So Tabitha here, when her family lost their home, came here for shelter. I have a large house, and enjoy having them here until they have a place to go.”
After a short whispered conversation between the two ladies, Tabitha left with four eggs.
Eldad shook his head. I don’t understand. We have been brought up to believe the Arabs are stupid, uneducated, and dangerous terrorists. And now you as a Jew harbor our enemy that we need to drive out to have our own country.”
“I find them gentle and gracious people who in the present trouble, need help. I have a home that is open to all kinds of races and religions. Have had some Christians and Druze refugees along with Muslims. It doesn’t matter. They are people needing help right now, just like you.”
Eldad turned slowly to the doorway that Tabitha had exited. He slowly stood up and scratched his head. “Ouch, something hurts.” He looked back at Valerie as he shuffled out the kitchen door. “I don’t understand.”
Chapter 37
Hello, hello!” Caleb shouted into the telephone. The long-distance line crackled a bit making it hard to hear. But he could catch his mother’s voice on the other end calling his father to get on the second telephone in the bedroom.
“I’m calling from a friend’s home on the coast just south of Haifa. How are you?”
“We’re fine. I hope you are too,” his mother said. “Are you planning on coming home after finals?”
“I’m not sure of my plans yet, but I’ll let you know by mail.”
“We’ve enjoyed your letters,” his father remarked. “But there are some things we don’t understand. I guess we’ll have to wait until you get home.”
“That’s probably best, Dad.”
“Where did you say you are now? Not at the University?”
“At a friend’s home in a village a bit south of Haifa. Called Tantura.”
“You’re probably celebrating with your Jewish friends,” Caleb’s father continued.
“Not exactly.”
“Well you have lots to celebrate with them after Israel just became a state. I imagine there is dancing in the streets. We are having a thanksgiving in our church tomorrow night.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. Maybe you don’t remember, but our church has been helping Jewish people move to Palestine for several years now after the Holocaust.
“That’s great. But most people in America don’t really understand the consequences of evil actions abroad that start out mild and then multiply,” Caleb added.
“I know. It began with forcing people out of their villages and even where they live in cities. We here in America didn’t pay any attention and let it happen.”
“That’s true, Dad. These things escalate and then because some people are different, the ones who consider themselves superior take over. They terrorize whole cities in areas where the supposed inferior ones live.”
“And that’s how the troubles escalate and lead to the massacres.” Caleb’s father paused. “We should intervene early on. Now all we can do is never forget.”
Caleb frowned. “What do you mean, ‘never forget.’ It’s not too late to stop the slaughter as soon as we can. ”
“Ah . . . you’re not making sense. It’s over. It happened. Past tense. Now all we can do is try to be sure it never happens again.”
“Dad, it isn’t over. The evictions and killings go on every day and we in the US know little of what is going on here and don’t seem to care.” Caleb heard nothing for several moments. “Are you still there?”
Finally a weak voice came on, “Son, . . . I . . . thought we were talking about the Holocaust when so many Jewish people were killed.”
“Oh, Dad. I’d laugh if it weren’t so tragic. I assumed we were discussing the situation here in Palestine, I mean Israel. Incredible that we could mix them up. Now I understand what you were thinking. The two events are so tragic, even similar except for the details.
“I just don’t see what you see, Caleb. All I know is that we are celebrating here with the new nation of Israel. It just occurred to me, maybe you are not aware that Israel is now a new nation in the world. President Truman has recognized it as a state and also the Russians. Do you realize what this means?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“I thought we had taught you growing up that the Old Testament of the Bible is full of prophecies about the Jews, the chosen people, returning to the ancient land. And we believe it says that since this is happening now, that Jesus will return within our generation. Think of that, Caleb! Jesus coming back in our time, ‘in our generation.’”
“Yeah, I remember that, but . . . ”
“But what, son?”
“Do you really think that this is the ‘end times’ as some will say?”
“I do. You read the scriptures, and everything fits with what is happening in 1948 and particularly with the new nation of Israel.”
“But the end of the world as we know it has been predicted many times in the past, and it has never occurred.”
“I guess time will tell, Caleb. But aren’t you happy with the Jews at last having their own country?”
“Yes, they are entitled to some land here. Jews and Arabs have lived here peacefully for centuries. There is room for everyone. I’m just concerned about the idea that they alone have the right to be here and everyone else must leave.”
“Oh. We never hear about anyone else. Maybe a few Bedouins but they move around anyway. Sort of like our Indians who live in teepees. We never hear about anyone else.”
“How about Christians?” Caleb asked. “There are lots of them here, highly educated Arabs, particularly in Bethlehem, I understand. But there are lots of Muslims, too. Wonderful fri
ends, gentle hospitable people you learn to love.”
“It that true?” his mother asked. “You mean to tell me there are Christians there among the Muslim Arabs?”
Caleb laughed. “I didn’t know anything when I came here. They have been in this land two thousand years. The first church comprised mostly Arabs in Antioch, Syria. The languages spoken at Pentecost included Arabic. Their ancestors now are people just like us. Oh, they may worship differently, but they are true followers of Jesus, at least the ones I know.”
“So how do they feel about Israel becoming a state?” his father asked.
“Dad, you wouldn’t believe the killing and eviction of Arab people from the land of their ancestors that is taking place here. If you were being cleansed from your home in Texas and had to leave for a refugee camp, and seeing family members shot, would you be happy for the powerful visitors who are doing this to you?”
“We have never heard anything like this. Are you sure of your facts?”
“Dad, I’ve picked up dead bodies and bandaged wounds and carried children to ambulances. This is not theory or hearsay. I’ve experienced it. Another holocaust, another attempt to cleanse the land of the ‘other’ like we just talked about.”
“God’s people could not do this! We can’t imagine our Jewish friends doing this!”
“No, Dad, I can’t either. It’s not God’s people. It’s political, not religious. Not Judaism, not affected by the idea of loving your neighbor nor taking care of the stranger. No. This is Zionism, hard, vindictive, and uncaring. Anything goes in order to ethnically cleanse the land of its people so they can take over.”
Silence pervaded for a long pause. Finally his mother spoke. “I feel like I’m going to faint. Have you left your faith, son?”
“On the contrary, Mom. I am learning so much about loving your neighbor and even your enemy, as Jesus did. Hard to do but I’m trying.”
“I’m going to have to lie down.”
After another hiatus in the conversation, Caleb’s dad came on the line again. “You have shaken us to the core, son. I’m at a loss for words. If what you say is true . . . I don’t know what to think. I . . . don’t know. Maybe we should talk face to face about this when you get home—I’ve got to check on your mother. She’s very upset.
Chapter 38
The stillness of the market area, the closed shops and empty kiosks bothered Valerie, so unlike the Qatamon she had known and loved for years. Part of Jerusalem, it had never been so quiet. She saw several militiamen with rifles guarding the streets. She did find a couple of vegetable stands open and the meat market open with a sign of kosher meat now available. Hearing shouts and music a ways away, she walked toward the sound.
Curious as she approached a crowd gathering, she noticed the yarmulkes on the men young and older, as well as Jewish songs, some Yiddish. Tambourines and drums accompanied the singing. The songs were full of hope and triumph after a dark present. Dancing began and young people gathered until the crowd swelled to several hundred, happy and joyous. She wondered at the occasion, not having turned on her radio for a couple of days, and being preoccupied with her mysterious visitor. She inquired of a woman nearby.
“You don’t know why we celebrate?”
“Not really. I haven’t heard or read any news for a couple of days during the trouble.”
“Lady, we are a nation again, Israel, just like we were two thousand years ago. The two big powers, America and the Soviets, have recognized us as a country in the community of nations. We came, we saw, we conquered as the Romans did to us then. No more weak cowering victims of persecution.”
“So what armies are we conquering?”
“Well, the Arab countries will probably send in their Armies, but we are strong and will send them back home. But also the Arab terrorists here. We are seeing an uneducated Arab people who lived here run away. Their leaders told them to leave and they seem glad to get out.”
Valerie couldn’t believe her ears. That must be the official line from the Jewish leadership. She knew the British had given up trying to keep the peace in this part of their empire, but did not realize that David Ben Gurion would lead his fellow Jewish immigrants to immediate statehood with the end of the Mandate and on the backs of the fleeing Arabs. And then blame them for leaving. The cost in lives and evictions of homes and families remained unknown, but she knew from her own experience it would be huge. She must seek out her own Rabbi to get some perspective, knowing he continued to express his dismay at the cruelty he saw.
Valerie walked back through empty narrow roads with occasional vacant small houses interspersed with piles of rubble that had once been a family home. She realized most of the families she had helped would have nothing to come back to even though their steadfastness and determination to return to the city of their forbearers would never leave. The land, the home meant everything in the Arab culture. And then with a heavy heart she shook her head. This is what we are celebrating.
***
On entering her house, she wondered whether Eldad had come out of his room? As he awakened would his recent memory return? Something seemed strange about him, yes even mysterious. He had a face that reminded her of someone from her past. Why had he come to her yard with none of his militia coming to look for him? Who was he really and what had he been doing during this time of trouble? He didn’t seem dangerous. And what did that slip in his pocket mean, her first name only, and telephone number? Did he know of her before? If so, how? And why did he? Was he coming to destroy her because of her generosity to Arab families?
On coming into her kitchen she found Eldad looking into her refrigerator.
“I hope you can find something you like, and food that is not spoiled from the electricity being off.”
“I did. Hunger woke me up and I found some bread and juice. I was looking for something else. But with the humus I ate enough naan to last me until tomorrow.”
“We’ll have our evening meal in a couple of hours. You are welcome to join us. Tonight we will have all of Tabitha’s family with us.
Eldad frowned. “I have never eaten with Arabs. So thanks anyway.”
“This could be the first for you. They are a dear couple with small children. I think you would enjoy meeting them.”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember sitting down with any Arabs, ever.”
“What make you so reluctant to become friends with people that are not like you?”
“I think I grew up around people and teachers that considered Arabs uncultured and dirty. And dangerous. That filled our schoolbooks about modern history. In my home growing up, later in the kibbutz, it was always the same. They were trying to kill us and push us back into the sea. So we have to defend ourselves. We call our militias, defense forces, since we are the victims of their aggression.”
“You sound like your memory is returning.”
“Well, parts of it are, although I don’t know what happened to me in your courtyard.”
For the next two hours, sitting down across the kitchen table, the two Jews shared with each other portions of their backgrounds, their thinking, their motivation and what they were currently doing. Valerie learned of Eldad’s military experiences and shuddered to think of all the killing and destroying he had done in the militias.
“I want to know why you took me in. Maybe why you as Jewish take Arabs into your home and shelter and feed them.”
“Because that’s wisdom from the Torah, to be kind and generous to your neighbor. And these people are my neighbors, literally, right here in Qatamon.”
“And why did you take me in? I’m a different kind of Jew. I’ve been active in the Hagana and even the Palmach. I have fought and killed. And yet you have taken care of me.”
“You are human, created in the image of God. And he said his creation is good. We are here to take care of that, and it includes you.” Valerie leaned forward raising her hands. “We all do bad things, some hidden and some out in the open. Your actions ha
ve been available for all to see. I happen to love people for who they are on the inside even when their actions sometimes speak otherwise.”
“So you can overlook my activity on behalf of the Zionist cause?”
“Eldad, I care for the real you inside.”
“Funny thing, this afternoon in going through my pockets I remembered having a slip of paper that’s now gone. I can’t remember why I had it there, and what it was about. But the strange thing is that it had the name “Valerie” on it, and a phone number. Could it possibly be you?
Valerie flushed. She knew that he would eventually remember and might ask her about it. How could she tell him she knew of the mystery note? She paused, taking a deep breath.
“It is me. It’s my telephone number. Why did you have it?” she inquired. Valerie paused, needing time to think. “So perhaps you knew about me some time ago, but I knew nothing about you.”
“I told you I can’t remember where it came from or why.”
“Do you remember your birthday? That might help.”
“I don’t know why you think that.” He frowned. “I do have my birth certificate. I was born in Jerusalem on July, 19, 1920. That’s forever imbedded in my brain.”
Valarie thought she might faint. Her world seemed to stop turning and everything in her mind raced as she flipped the years back to the day she delivered a baby boy at Hadassah hospital. July 19, 1920. He even had some of her features around the eyes, and that distinctive square determined jaw. That’s what had caught her attention initially, a vague resemblance that she didn’t understand at first. But now clear. Her mouth dropped open. He looked like her.
Chapter 39
Adnan shifted in his chair in the town hall of Tantura. In response to the events of May fifteenth, now three days later, decisions needed to be made. The meeting of community leaders had been expanded by several Arab notables from other areas that had escaped from the cleansing of their villages. One of them presided as he served on Arab leadership meetings as well as attending the Arab League Council, that body of foreign ministers of Arab states. The Chairman, tall with white hair, began by reciting a bit of history.
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