Photographer Kaplansky, who was dwelling with his only son – Elkano, in the second floor of the Brown House, near Mike- Nahumik’s friend, pulled the wallet out of his pocket. He issued some blue and green ‘Mandatorial’ paper money, of fifty and hundred PalestinianErets-Israeli Pounds Sterling. It was while Elkano was preparing dinner for them both – cocumbers and tomatos and onion salad mixed with olives oil with pepper spice.
When the guy put the plate on the table, he discerned the money and pretended not to understand his father’s intention.
“Take that,” said Solomon Kaplansky to his only son, pointing on the colored pieces and and pushing the money toward Elkano’s hands, “and sail out of this country. I’ve heard from a very famous leader in the Israeli Labor Party: A devastating war is impending. It’s unavoidable.” He raised his baritone voice: “They will take you to the Jewish army.”
Elkano pushed away the money. He was angry, but didn’t show it.
“You’re a fool. A young man has to know how and why to listen to older people, be active to safeguard himself, and rescue his skin to remain alive. You don’t know – nor imagine – what a war is. Maybe your’e not afraid of it. But take your chance, my son. Go to Haifa Port – and leave the country, You should do that.”
“Enough, papa!”, said Elkano,” I know that you are not satisfied with my behavior- because I’ve told you that I am in love with a grown up widow. And she’s older than myself. You want me to get rid of her in that manner. Is it so?”
“Absolutely not,” said Kaplansky. “It is not my business, even if you marry her; of course not here, in our town. But I’m very anxious about your remaining in this cursed land, understand? My beloved nice baby”, he groaned and weeped for tfive seconds, then embraced his son and kissed him. Kaplansky’s eyes were still wet.
“You don’t know, but recently I hardly can sleep. Because I am so anxious about you. I have also some pain in my chest. As something is stuck in my throat and lungs”.
“No, papa,” Elkano said in a vehement, but weak voice. He gathered the paper money and put it back into his father’s pocket.
“Even if you stand on your head – I would not leave this country,” he said audaciously, “I’ll survive, even if the war will break. But we don’t see it yet. Why worry?”
CHAPTER 14
To America and Back Page 13