27
Uri and Chana arrived in Jerusalem on a Sunday. Chana enjoyed the drive South; yet when they arrived in the outskirts of Jerusalem, the city's stark contrast with Tel Aviv overwhelmed her.
Tel Aviv was sunny, and warm, and full of color and cosmopolitan. In Jerusalem, she felt as if she was going back in time. Ancient buildings of various colors of limestone lined the streets. Pinkish, yellow, and tawny hues dominated the holy city.
Unlike Tel Aviv, where couples walked freely and dressed casually, Ultra-Orthodox families filled the streets of Jerusalem. As she frequently saw in some of the Hassidic neighborhoods in Philadelphia, men wore black suits reminiscent of the 18th century, along with black hats; tzitzit hung from their shirts. Many of them sported payot—the long, sometimes curly sideburns that framed their face.
The woman wore long skirts, conservative and modest blouses, and a married woman's hair was never left uncovered.
The Ultra-Orthodox clothing was far too conservative for Chana, but she adored the way the children dressed. Little girls wore handmade dresses and bonnets, while little boys wore small suits like men. Chana admired the sense of community and the closeness of the Ultra-Orthodox population.
At a higher elevation, Chana noticed that the air temperature was cooler than it was in seaside Tel Aviv.
"It is so different here," she remarked to Uri. "Is the traffic always this bad?"
"Today is actually a less congested day," Uri responded. "It's Sunday, so many of the city and government businesses aren't open."
Chana was overwhelmed by the aggressiveness of the drivers; the constant horn honking was worse than in Philadelphia, and a stream of tour buses rounded every corner.
"Don't worry," Uri assured her. “Once we get past the traffic of the Old City, we will almost be home.”
Home, Chana thought to herself. She never imagined a home other than her old house in South Dakota with her parents and Tully, and the occasional visits from her sister. Her mind buzzed with excitement as she thought of sharing her very own home with her husband, making it an intimate space for them to grow a family. And most of it was possible due to the kindness of Mrs. Blum.
Mrs. Blum enlisted her daughter to recruit her husband to help Uri find property in the quiet, desired neighborhood of Nachlaot, an area outside of the Old City. In the middle of a revitalization, Uri immediately fell in love with the neighborhood. Secluded with small windy roads, hidden courtyards, and many small, neighborhood shuls, he knew Chana would love it.
After fifteen minutes of heavy traffic, the scenery changed. Soon they were in a less congested area that opened into the charming streets of Nachlaot. Just as Uri expected, Chana completely fell in love with the area.
"This is our neighborhood?" she shrieked in excitement.
Uri teased her. "This? No, this is way above our budget. Our neighborhood is a few more miles in, closer to the landfill."
Chana glared at him and rolled her eyes.
He pulled up to a curb and parked.
"Hold on, I need to check the map to make sure we are on the correct route."
Chana’s eyes lit up when she saw him pull a pair of keys from his pocket. She looked at the charming building to her right. It was three stories high, with balconies with vines growing on the upper levels.
"Which level is ours?" she asked eagerly.
"We're in the basement," Uri continued to tease her.
"Stop it!" she scolded him. "Let's go in! Which one?" she asked again.
"Second level," he responded, flashing her the gap-toothed smile that she loved so much. He handed her the keys.
"We have a terrace!" She was like a giddy child; Uri adored watching her reaction.
She fumbled through the keys to find the one for the building entrance and galloped up the stairs to the second floor. By the time Uri made it to the second floor, Chana was already standing in their unlocked apartment.
"Oh, Uri, I love it!" Her smile radiated across the room.
It was small but charming. The main living area opened to the terrace.
"Think of all of the flowers I can put out here," she said, standing on a balcony that revealed a beautiful view of the colorful neighborhood.
"And think of all the cooking you can do in this large kitchen," Uri said.
She shot him a look of disapproval before noticing not one, but two bedrooms. She went to the smaller room first. It was painted a pale blue with a large window that welcomed lots of sunlight.
"This is perfect for a nursery."
Uri walked in behind her and attempted to put his arms around her waist, but she quickly pulled away.
"Sorry, my love, but I'm in niddah."
Uri was disappointed; the last two weeks were so blissful; he had almost forgotten about the rules of family purity. He would not be permitted to touch Chana or make love to her until seven days after her menstruation stopped and she immersed herself in the mikveh.
"But don't worry," Chana assured him. “My periods are short. Usually only three days."
Even though they had been separated for month after grueling month as Chana worked through her conversion, the thought of him having to wait ten days to touch her seemed torturous.
"It's hard for me, too," she said, giving him an empathetic smile.
She returned to touring the rest of the furnished apartment, excited by every silly detail, from the toilet to the closet.
Uri watched her joyfully hang their first picture—the piece she purchased from Penina. For a few moments, his life was perfect. But then the feeling of dread returned to him. Tomorrow he would return to his unit. He hadn't told Chana, but another failed suicide bomb attempt occurred just a few days ago.
Soon he would have to tell her that with each day, Israel became a more dangerous place. But he couldn't tell her that now. He loved her too much to not let her revel in her happiness.
He looked at the empty nursery as Chana gleefully admired their new home. Anxiety gripped him as he thought of her safety. He silently prayed to HaShem that he hadn't made a terrible mistake.
28
Uri awoke early the next day, attempting to reach for Chana but then realized that their beds were separated due to her being in niddah.
He prayed, showered, and put on his uniform. Before putting on his Galil, his standard military issued weapon, he woke Chana to tell her he was leaving.
"Chana," he said gently.
A heavy sleeper, she rolled over to the other side of the bed.
"Chana!" he said louder and watched as she slowly opened her eyes.
"Uri, my love, are you leaving?"
He crouched down to give her a kiss, before realizing again that he couldn't touch her.
"Good luck today," he told her, knowing that she would be starting her first day of University.
Chana smiled and blew him a kiss. "I love you, Uri Geller," she said before closing her eyes again.
He looked down at her, smiling. "I love you more, Metuka." Uri paused. "Chana?"
"Hmm. . ." she responded, falling back asleep.
"Be careful today. Trust your senses."
"Uh huh," she muttered. "Love you."
He looked at her one more time, admiring her beauty, even as she lightly snored.
He quietly left their new home, locking the door behind him. He knew he would hear grim news when he arrived at his unit.
Tonight, he thought to himself, I will tell Chana.
FIRST LIEUTENANT URI Geller arrived at his base with mixed emotions. He was sad to leave Chana's company, but eager to resume his military routine.
Uri's family was surprised that he decided to continue his military service after his compulsory time was completed. It was expected that he would follow in his father and older brother's footsteps and attend medical school—or at least some form of higher education—but Uri excelled in the Army. Military life suited him well. He enjoyed the camaraderie, especially during the many months when he was away from Chana. H
e bonded with his fellow soldiers and it was his close relationships with his comrades that kept him going during his separation from her.
Athletically gifted, Uri excelled through the grueling physical and mental training. He proved himself a great marksman and one who could handle his weaponry well. His positive attitude earned him the reputation of a soldier who other infantrymen could lean on in times of hardship.
His decision to stay in the military was not one he made lightly. He consulted with Chana, Rabbi Weissman, and his family. Chana was thrilled with the prospect of living in Israel while finishing her degree, although it meant she would be farther away from her father as his health deteriorated.
But Chana felt reassured after her sister Leah graduated from nursing school and moved in with their parents. A calming presence in the household, Leah could offer level-headed advice to her mother when major medical decisions needed to be made.
Meanwhile, Uri advanced so quickly in his training that he was the youngest in his class to earn the rank of First Lieutenant. Upon his enlistment, he was one of the few soldiers to volunteer and be accepted to the Paratrooper Brigade, which was infamous for its grueling training program. Nearly half of the recruits dropped out a quarter of the way through training.
As Uri watched his fellow trainees give up, he became more determined. He also began to learn Arabic, making him a candidate for intelligence operations, which further impressed his superiors.
In the back of his mind were the constant memories of insults he endured in South Dakota, and the anger within him for not better defending himself. During his most difficult moments, he pictured Greg Moorehouse with his bloodied and broken nose. Uri promised himself that he would never throw a wrong punch again, never miss his mark, and never again allow himself—or anyone he loved— to be a victim. That's what led him to apply for training at the LOTAR counter-terrorism school. He was accepted without reservation and finished the training two weeks before he arrived back in the United States to marry Chana.
His hard work and gifts had not gone unnoticed. When he reported for duty on his first day back from his extended vacation, he was immediately told by his comrades that the captain wished to speak to him.
Uncertain of what to expect, Uri apprehensively made his way to the office of Captain Melamed, a man with a reputation for being stern yet disorganized. His office was filled with piles of paper and folders, and he was infamously known for misplacing important documents.
The captain's door was closed and the blinds in his window lowered, so Uri lightly rapped on the door.
"Just a moment," he heard the captain speak.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and another soldier exited as the captain invited Uri into his office.
"Ah, Lieutenant Geller, shavua tov," he said, speaking in Hebrew. "Please, have a seat."
Uri sat across the desk from the captain, and he noticed that some stacks of papers were so high that the two men may not be able to see each other had they not been pushed aside to the corners of his desk.
"I trust you had a good time with your new bride?" the captain asked.
"Yes, sir. She is adjusting well to her new country," Uri replied, tapping his foot under the desk, anxious to learn what the captain was about to ask of him.
"Lieutenant, as you know, you have shown yourself as an impressive soldier, and are moving up the ranks far faster than our usual recruits. I suspect soon you will outrank me," he said with a tone of sincerity.
"As you're aware, there is growing concern about the potential of terror attacks inside Israel from Hamas, Fatah, and other Palestinian groups. While their recent attempts have caused minor damage, our intelligence units in Gaza and the West Bank tell us that they are growing more organized. You'll be privy to details once we get you the proper security clearance."
"Security clearance, sir?" Uri repeated, wanting more clarification.
"That's all I can tell you, Lieutenant," the captain replied, as he began writing notes on a piece of paper. "You are to report here at 0900 hours," the captain handed Uri the paper.
Uri looked at the note and immediately realized that he would be entering a highly classified area.
"Camp Rabin. . .at HaKirya?" Uri noted as he scanned the paper.
"Don't worry," the captain reassured him. "They are expecting you."
Uri's stomach churned and he began to feel uneasy. He prayed that he would not be given a mission that would take him far away from Chana.
"That will be all, Lieutenant," the captain said, signaling that it was time for Uri to leave.
"Thank you, sir," Uri replied as he stood from his chair. As he reached to shake the captain's hand, he accidentally brushed against one of the giant piles of folders haphazardly placed on the captain's desk, causing a domino effect of collapsing folders and papers.
"My apologies, Captain," Uri said. “Please, let me help—"
"Not necessary," the captain interrupted him, staring bewilderingly at the piles on the floor. "You are free to go."
As Uri opened the door to leave, the captain spoke one last time. "Lieutenant, you have been chosen for a task that should not be taken lightly. The safety of Israel depends on good soldiers like you. I wish you safety and good luck."
Uri nodded, preparing himself for the unknown.
29
Uri drove north to Tel Aviv to Camp Rabin, which served as the IDF headquarters since its inception.
Stuck in heavy traffic, he picked up his new cell phone and dialed Chana’s number.
After a few rings she answered in Hebrew, "Hello, my love!" He could hear lots of talking in the background, and assumed she was at the University.
"You seem excited," he said grinning. The sound of her speaking Hebrew always made him smile.
"Yes, Avigail, Mrs. Blum's daughter, is giving me a tour. And I have so many internship options!" Her mood was contagious, just as it was when he first met her.
"That's wonderful, Chana. Avigail is a great companion."
He briefly thought back to memories he had of Avigail as a little girl and a young woman. She was well mannered and quiet, but she had a sharp wit about her. A few years older than Uri, she was often left in charge of watching the younger children during neighborhood gatherings, and she was a stickler for following rules.
"How is your morning?" Chana asked, interrupting his childhood memory.
"I am actually on my way up to Tel Aviv. Apparently, I've been given a new assignment."
"A new assignment?" Chana repeated. "What kind of assignment?"
"That, my love, is top secret," he answered. "But I'm not sure if I will be home in time for dinner."
"Top secret? Oh, I will find ways for me to convince you to tell me. . . Unfortunately, it may have to wait a few days," she said, referring to her niddah.
"I do love your convincing," Uri grinned. He enjoyed this banter with his wife. "Traffic is picking up. I love you."
"I know you do. Call me later, Uri Geller. Don't leave your new bride alone in her new house."
"Never, Chana Geller." He hung up the phone hoping that he hadn't lied to her. Whatever assignment was before him, he again prayed to HaShem that it would not take him away from his wife.
My wife. He thought back to the autumn night in high school when Chana sat in the bleachers behind him and he caught her staring at him. She gave him a smile of assurance, almost as if she knew that they were meant to be together. The rest of that evening he couldn't concentrate on the game, Daniel, or his surroundings. He wanted to know more about the pretty, bold girl that Daniel told him little about.
As he arrived at the first security gate at Camp Rabin, he thought about how complicated and dangerous life could become. Part of him yearned to be that seventeen-year-old kid again, infatuated with a beautiful girl, his worries trivial.
Two security gates later, Uri was directed by a guard to park in a lot near Marganit Tower, the second largest building in Israel, and one that Uri considered a
n eyesore.
As he entered the building, he was subjected to another security check, and directed to a small desk located in front of an entrance to another section of the building.
A stern looking woman dressed in civilian clothing sat at the desk. When Uri arrived, she didn't allow him time to even state his name.
"Your ID, please?" she requested, not bothering to make eye contact with him.
Uri obliged and handed her his identification.
"One moment," she stood up from her desk and walked to a door not far behind her. She entered in a code, the door opened, and she disappeared. Two minutes later, she reappeared and handed Uri's ID back to him.
"They'll call you in shortly," she told him, once again not bothering to look at him.
Uri awkwardly waited, as there was no place to sit. The lobby was bare and without chairs. Like the outside of the building, it had minimal aesthetic appeal.
Finally, the phone on the woman's desk rang. "Yes?" she answered, pausing before saying "yes" again.
"You may go in now," she instructed him sourly. "Stand by that door and they will buzz you in."
Uri walked to the door and stood for a moment before he heard a buzzing sound. He opened the door to a large furnished office with cubicles and desks.
A much more pleasant woman greeted him this time. "Lieutenant Geller, welcome," she said with a smile that exuded more business than friendliness.
"We have been expecting you. Can I get you some coffee or water?”
"No, thank you," he replied nervously, immediately regretting turning down her offer of water. His mouth was dry, and his throat felt scratchy.
"Follow me, please." She led him to a set of chairs next to an office door. "They will be with you shortly."
Uri sat as instructed, returning to his lifelong habit of tapping his left foot when he was tense. Well aware that he was in the building where the highest-ranking members in the IDF performed their duties, including the commanders of the three major branches, Uri was anxious to see the person, or persons, behind the door.
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