Jerusalem Stone

by Susan Sofayov

  When Jack and I were very young, my mother established a bedtime ritual that continued for years. Before climbing into our own beds, we’d crawl into her bed. Jack would snuggle under one arm and me the other. Our favorite book was a picture book she had saved from her childhood, Danny and the Dinosaur, by Syd Hoff. It didn’t take long for Jack and me to memorize the text. The three of us would recite the words together, while Jack, and I took turns flipping the pages. All my favorite memories of my mother involved books.

  Avi stirred and kissed my ear. I rolled in his arms and found his lips. His legs wrapped around me and my body responded.

  ***

  “I’m impressed. I expected you to be too hung over for anything more intense than begging for coffee.” I skimmed my fingers in a line down the middle of his chest.

  “Coffee sounds good. Did I mention that whiskey and I aren’t best friends?”

  “You didn’t have to. I enjoyed a few hours of experiential learning last night. Stick to beer, sweetheart.” I kissed his cheek. He pulled me even closer.

  “I guess it’s time to pack up and head for Tiveria. The Kinneret awaits our arrival.” He skimmed his nose along my cheek.

  “The Kinneret, aka the Sea of Galilee is a giant lake, right?” I scrunched up my face in distaste.

  “Well, by Lake Erie standards, it’s more like a giant pond. But, the water’s warm like the lake in Thailand.”

  “Maybe we could just stand along the edge and throw stones.”

  “You really do dislike lakes. Forget swimming. We can visit the graves of some of our greatest sages. Maimonides and Rabbi Akiba are buried there.”

  I squirmed in his arms and bit my bottom lip. The only graves I wanted to visit belonged to Jack and my mother. “What are the other options?”

  He rolled me to face him and gazed into my eyes. My watery eyes explained everything. “I’m so stupid. Sorry, no graves and no lakes. Forget travelling north, we’re going south, through the desert to Eilat.”

  I sniffled a bit. “I’ve never been in the desert.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before? We can drive to the Dead Sea this afternoon. Stay there for a night and then drive to Eilat, which is beautiful.” He hugged me tight. “No graves. I promise.”

  “That sounds like a plan. What do you want for breakfast?” I asked, still snuggled tightly into his arms.

  “I want to hear you say I’ll stay.”

  “Eggs and pancakes, coming up.” I rolled off the bed and pulled on his T-shirt.

  Chapter 21

  By eleven-thirty, we finished loading our stuff into the trunk of his white Mercedes Benz. “You strike me as more of a Jaguar type of guy or black Mercedes.” I closed the trunk and walked to the passenger side.

  “Climb into a black car in August, and you’ll understand why sixty percent of the cars in Israel are light gray, silver, or white. I’m not much of a car guy. This one seemed like a practical choice.”

  “Hurry, climb in. Let’s put this practical car in gear and hit the road. I can’t wait to see the desert.”

  I stared out the window, trying to memorize everything I saw. A half hour into the ride, we began our descent down the mountain, and the vegetation became sparse. Suddenly Avi slammed the brakes and threw his arm across my chest.

  “What the hell?” I flinched, and my hand flew to my mouth. Growing up in Western Pennsylvania I was familiar with the occasional deer blocking the road, but the sight in front made me laughed out loud. Three giant camels stood in the middle of the road, staring at us. “They’re so ugly they’re cute,” I said. “What do we do now?” I rolled down the window, leaned out, and snapped a picture with his cell phone.

  “They are not cute. They spit.” He threw the car into park and opened the door. “Watch, and you will see a skill no one has ever mastered in Pittsburgh.”

  He walked toward the camels.

  “Be careful,” I yelled out the window.

  He turned and smiled at me. My heart pounded. I’d never heard of a wild camel attack, but that didn’t mean it never happened. Avi smacked the biggest one’s backside and kind of pushed it toward the side of the road. He waved his arm and began yelling in either Hebrew or Arabic--I couldn’t tell. Within a few moments, the two remaining camels lumbered off the side of the road and plodded into the desert.

  He slid back into the driver seat and closed the door. “Strays. I’m sure the owner isn’t far away. I’m just glad they didn’t decide to sit down. It’s next to impossible for anyone, except the owner, to get a camel to stand up.”

  I leaned over and hugged him. “My hero. That was scary.”

  He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Getting them off the road isn’t scary. Driving around a sharp turn and crashing into one is scary. Hitting a camel doesn’t have the same impact as hitting a squirrel or even a deer.”

  He started the car. From the passenger window, I watched the creatures amble along the side of the road, until once again, the gang of three decided to stop walking. As we drove by them, I turned and watched them through the back window.

  “Drive slow.” The camels stood arranged in a triangle, staring into nothing.

  “To avoid hitting one, or so you can watch those three?” he asked.

  “Both.” I continued staring as they became smaller and smaller, finally disappearing when the road curved around the mountainside.

  The scenery outside the car fascinated me--sand, rocks, and scrub grass. Avi talked about the land and the average annual rainfall, explaining that when it did rain, the water rushed down the mountains, creating wadis. He pointed to what looked like a gulch down the mountain, saying that it would remain a dry river bed until the next rain came.

  “Is that a joke?” I asked, interrupting his Geology 101 class, pointing to a green road sign with an arrow pointing to the left that read “Jericho.”

  He quickly glanced over at me. “No, why would you think it’s a joke?”

  “Jericho. Joshua. Big battle. I always thought that the towns named in the bible were ancient towns that may or may not have really existed, except Jerusalem, of course.”

  “If you ask all the Arabs living there, they’ll assure you, it’s a real town.”

  I watched the muscles on the side of his face move up and down as he spoke. If I lived to be a hundred and twenty, I would still be able to close my eyes and recall his strong jaw and high cheek bones, that set off the eyes I adored.

  “Let’s go see it. We don’t have to stay long.”

  A serious aura replaced his earlier light-hearted mood. “Bad idea.” He shook his head.

  Something told me not to push the issue. “Okay, sexy tour guide. I won’t argue with you.” I stared through the passenger window at the mountains spiking across the Judaean Desert--dry, dusty, bleached by the sun, and eroded by wind. Nothing like the forest-covered Appalachian Mountains that ran through the middle of Pennsylvania.

  At the bottom of the mountain, we made a right turn onto Route 90 South, which I learned is the lowest highway on Earth and The Dead Sea is the lowest spot on Earth. As we passed the road sign pointing to Qumran, Avi told me the story of how in 1947, Bedouin shepherds discovered clay jars in the mountain caves that contained the Dead Sea Scrolls. Over the course of ten years, more scrolls were discovered in eleven caves in the surrounding area.

  After a few miles, the Dead Sea became visible. I stared at it. Impossible. I looked again. “Avi, it’s over a hundred degrees outside, and it looks like snow and ice on the water.” I squinted.

  He twisted his neck and smiled at me. “Not snow, salt. We mine minerals from the salt and the mud on the bottom. As the water evaporates in the shallow areas, it crystallizes.

  “Cool.” I stared out the window as we drove straight along the highway, occasionally interrupting his Dead Sea lesson with a question.

  “Over there is Ein Gedi.” He pointed away from the sea toward the mountains. “It’s a desert oasis. We can go there tomorrow after we cli
mb Masada.”

  “Climb?”

  “Yep, we’re going to get up at four-thirty, down a couple of energy bars and hotel-room coffee. Then we’re hiking up the mountain to watch the sunrise.” He glanced down at my flip flops. “Please tell me you packed your sneakers.”

  “Never leave home without them, and why four-thirty? How about six or eight o’clock?”

  “You have to get up before the heat index hits blood boiling. When I was a kid, my dad decided to do a family climb in July. We drove from Jerusalem and got to Masada at nine. That hike was brutal. Halfway up, my mom, the archaeologist, who would love to live in this desert, turned and walked back down. None of us have forgiven him for that climb.”

  “How high is the mountain?” I asked, picturing the Allegheny Mountains that the Pennsylvania Turnpike crossed.

  “About four hundred meters and it takes about an hour to climb.”

  My insides relaxed--doable. The road in front of us rolled flat and straight, totally different than the winding roads of Western Pennsylvania. The amount of nothingness surrounding us was amazing. If the car broke down, we would be a fried feast for some hungry desert reptile in no time.

  “We’re only a few miles away from our hotel.” He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I can’t wait to see your expression when you start floating.”

  I reached over and stroked his cheek, wondering how I could possibly love someone so much after knowing him for such a short amount of time. But from the very first day we met on the beach, it’s been a mixture of awe, lust, and love.

  He pulled the car into the parking lot of a beautiful resort. “The Dead Sea was a refuge for King David and has been a health resort going as far back as Herod.”

  “Really,” I said, gathering the empty water bottles and the plastic candy bags that accumulated as we drove. He pulled the key from the ignition, leaned over, and kissed me. I kissed him back, overcome by the sensation that our lips had been apart for too long. My body began to heat with desire. It didn’t like being separated from him either.

  “Let’s check into our room and hit the beach, so I can smear Dead Sea mud all over your gorgeous body.”

  My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Mud, you heard me.” A devilish glint flashed from his eyes as he rubbed his hands together. “Fun. This is going to be so much fun.”

  Chapter 22

  I stood at the rocky water's edge, looking down at the salt-tinged ring surrounding the lake. Avi floated on his back, coaxing me to get into the water. I stepped forward, chunks of salt stabbed into the soles of my feet. “Walk into the water until it reaches your knee caps. Then turn around and sit down.”

  “Okay. Here I come.” I waded into the water. It felt oily against my skin. The salt water stung the small spot on my ankle that I nicked shaving. I should have listened to Avi’s warning, shaving was a bad idea.

  According to the sign hanging behind the front desk, the current water temperature was ninety degrees. It felt a little cooler than a hot tub, but not much. When the water touched my lower thigh, I turned and sat down, ready to move my arms and kick my feet to stay afloat.

  “Ahh.” Instead of sinking, my legs, with no effort on my part, floated up. “This is bizarre.”

  “Relax and go with it.” He laughed, holding his arms behind his head as if preparing to do a sit up.

  Within a second, I floated in a position akin to sitting on a lounge chair with no possibility of sinking. “How do I move?”

  “Stick your hands in the water and paddle. But, don’t splash. Once your hands are wet, do not, and I repeat, do not, touch your eyes. The water will seriously burn the mucus membranes.”

  “No splashing. Do not touch eyes. Got it.” I cupped my hands and paddled them against my sides. It took a few moments to get the hang of it, but once I did, moving became effortless. “Here I come!”

  I parked myself next to him, leaned over, attempting to kiss his cheek, and tipped onto my hip. Avi grabbed me and saved me from rolling onto my stomach. “Whoa, you saved me.” I regrouped into a safe position as he held my hand.

  “No, I didn’t. The worse thing that could have happened was you would be floating on your stomach instead of your back. Try it,” he said, rolling onto his stomach and keeping his face away from the water.

  “I just roll sideways?”

  “That’s all it takes.”

  “Here goes.” I rolled and held my legs and arms in a position that reminded me of skydivers in the moments before opening their parachutes. “I did it! I don’t like it.” I rolled onto my back and steadied myself.

  Ancient mountains rising from the desert floor of the Israeli and Jordanian sides of the Dead Sea encircled us. “The mountains feel like the sides of a pot, and I feel like a matzah ball bobbing in over salted soup.”

  “Trust me, you don’t taste like one.” He squeezed my hand. Joy radiated from his eyes and his smile. “If you move here, we could pretend to be matzah balls anytime you wanted.”

  “Don’t--you know it’s not an option. Please, let’s enjoy the time we have.”

  He nodded, turned his head away, and dropped the subject.

  We spent an hour or so in the water. A German speaking couple floated by us, but otherwise, we were alone. “I expected more people.”

  “Mid-afternoon August--too hot for the masses. People prefer their air-conditioned hotel rooms or hanging out in the hotel lobby. The tourists hit the beach before noon and after five. And, now it’s time for us to get out of the water.”

  I floated next to him until we neared the shallow edge. “How do I get out?”

  “Lean forward and push your feet down. The water is only knee high.”

  I followed his instructions and stood up. “That was easy.” I stepped onto the shore.

  “Fun time.” He squatted down and dug up handfuls of black mud from the bottom of the shallow water. Globs of tar-like mud oozed between his fingers and over his hands. A devilish grin covered his face. “Come here.”

  I shook my head.

  “Wrong answer.” He stepped closer.

  “What are you planning to do with that stuff?” I stepped backwards.

  “What I came here to do, smear miracle mud all over that amazing body of yours.”

  “Like hell, you will.” I took off running, hit a stone and squealed. He caught me and smeared a handful of mud all over my belly.

  “Yuk! Yuk.” I jumped back, and he stepped forward, reaching out and smearing it all around my midsection, leaving black finger trails.

  “My turn.” I trod carefully back to the shoreline and scooped up as much mud as I could hold and slapped it on his shoulders.

  “Watch the hair. Mud and dreadlocks don’t mix.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about my hair?” I laughed and smeared the thick black goo over his stomach. After it was completely covered, I dug up more, coated his back, and drew a smiley face between his shoulder blades. “Now what?” I asked, rinsing my hands in the oily water.

  “We stand here until it dries. Or until one of us can’t take the itchiness and runs up that hill, to that shower.” He stretched out his mud blackened arm and pointed at a shower head connected to a lone pipe sticking out of the ground.

  “Avi.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m itchy.”

  His eyes glowed bright against his mud-smeared cheeks. “It hasn’t been a minute. Suck it up.”

  “I don’t want to.” I looked down at my body. Never did a kid falling into a mud puddle look dirtier than I did. “This stuff can’t be good for skin. It’s gross.”

  “There are over twenty minerals in this mud. Believe me, people fly from all over the world to wallow for hours in this stuff to cure skin diseases.”

  “I don’t have any skin diseases.”

  “I know. Your skin is lovely, but you’re a wimp!” He laughed and scooped me into his arms. “Kiss me.”

  “Ew.”

  He slam
med his face against mine, kissing my lips and rubbing as much skin as possible against my face, smearing it even more.”

  “Yuk.” I spat out mud. “I hate you.” I swiped at the mud now clinging to my eyelashes. “One more time and look out--muddy dreadlocks.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” His hand slid under my bathing suit bottom and rubbed mud all over my backside.

  “Okay, no more.” I waved my hands in the air. “No muddy dreadlocks. I promise, just put me down.”

  He gazed into my eyes. His face softened as he pulled a finger along my cheek. “I never want to put you down.”

  My heart thumped against my chest. For a moment, I stopped lying to myself. I didn’t want him to put me down, and I absolutely didn’t want our time together to end. I touched my lips to his, briefly. “But you have to.”

  ***

  When the mud began to crack, we stood together under the tiny shower head as hot water drizzled down. The mud ran down our bodies creating black rivers rushing to our feet. When the rivers ran clear, we dried ourselves and walked back to the hotel.

  The sun dropped below the mountain tops to our west. We walked along the beach toward the hotel. The number of people floating in the sectioned off area near the hotel had increased. A few teenagers floated in the water, holding newspapers as their parents snapped photos from the shore. Avi’s fingers intertwined with mine as we walked in warm silence.

  The wall color, the artwork, and the furnishing of the lobby generated a relaxing ambiance. The hotel guests melted into the atmosphere, reclining on the sofas, drinking coffee, and chatting in various languages.

  As usual, heads turned, and conversation paused as Avi passed through the marble lobby. Neither of us acknowledged the stares and continued walking toward the elevator bank. Thankfully, as soon as he pressed the up button, the doors of the first elevator opened.