“That would be lots of fun. We could spend our free time together.”
“I was thinking that,” he said.
“It sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“Are you done working for today?” Mendel asked, taking the books and work she was carrying. “I’ll take these for you.”
“I just finished.”
“Nu, so let’s have dinner?” he said.
“I’d love to.”
They walked to a small restaurant down the street that had tables and chairs arranged outside under umbrellas.
“You think it’s still too cool to sit outside?” Katja asked.
“Whatever you want. I am fine outside; I’m fine inside,” Mendel smiled.
They got a table away from the street. Mendel ordered two glasses of wine and a plate of hummus with warm pita bread was spread with garlic butter.
“I was thinking I would study photography and journalism. But I’m not sure. If I get a job in that field I’ll always be right in the middle of the fighting if there is another war.”
“That’s true. But what else would you want to do?”
“I’m not sure. I want to do so many things. But of course I must choose something that I will be able to work at once I’m finished. ”
“Yes, that’s very true. So what else do you have in mind?”
“Law . . . I think I would make a good lawyer.”
“I think you could do whatever you set your mind to, Mendel. You’re very smart.”
“Now you’re embarrassing me.”
They both laughed.
“Let’s get some food. I’m famished. What else would you like to order?” he asked.
Chapter 60
It became a ritual. On Friday nights, Mendel and Katja shared Shabbat dinner. Because they were homesick, they tried as best they could to recreate the Shabbat dinners of their youth. Mendel had a small apartment and it was easier to cook there than in the barracks. Together they prepared a suitable Sabbath dinner. Then Katja placed a lace shawl over her head, lit the candles, and said the prayers. After dinner, they often reminisced about the antics of their youth. They spoke with affection of Rachel. They both missed their blood sister.
On Sundays, they enjoyed the crystal blue water and the sparkling white sand of the beach. Mendel paid for the food and Katja prepared it and packed a picnic basket. Katja enjoyed having Mendel so close by. Often, after a difficult day at work, she would call him and they would meet for a quick dinner at one of the cafés near her office. He told her about school, she told him about work, and her time in the service seemed to fly by.
A big celebration in honor of Israeli Independence day was to take place in the center of town in Tel Aviv. There would be an abundance of food and drink, a parade, and music. All public offices were closed, including the university. Mendel and Katja agreed to meet at the site of the event at noon. Katja hated to be late and she wanted to be sure that she and Mendel would have good spots for the parade, so she left twenty minutes early.
When she arrived, the streets were already filled with people. The flag of Israel, bearing the blue Star of David, hung proudly from a post stuck in the middle of the square. Musicians had already begun playing and couples were dancing. Katja found two spots near the front. She sat down and placed her handbag on the ground next to her, saving it until Mendel arrived. Then she absentmindedly began to sing along with the music.
It was old familiar Yiddish folk music and it made her think of her parents. She missed them. Only one more year and she would be finished with her military service. Then she could return home. Perhaps she would return home permanently and teach, spend as much time with her parents as she could. As Katja sang softly to herself, lost in thought, she felt the warmth of the presence of someone come up behind her. Then she heard a deep male voice begin to sing along with the music.
Katja turned quickly, a little frightened at first.
“Hello, Katja.”
She was stunned. She could hardly find her voice.
“Elan, how are you?” Katja asked.
Chapter 61
Konrad walked through the over-populated streets of Buenos Aires, looking around frantically. He was light-headed— his heart beat was elevated and he felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. What if he were being followed? What if they knew everything he was doing? His fellow Nazis would have no sympathy for him. There was never to be any sympathy for the weak, the weak must be weeded out, eliminated. There is no other way to build a master race. He could hear Hitler’s speeches ringing in his head.
But the dream of the Third Reich had evaporated, the master race was dead. He must not allow himself to be choked up with fear. That was how mistakes were made. None of his fellow Nazis suspected him. Why would they? He had never shown any form of disloyalty to the party. And if he could find a way out, he would not be going to this meeting. However, when he was captured several months earlier by Mossad, he had been given the choice: Either he would betray his fellow Nazis, or the Israelis would kill him; quite simple. They’d tortured him, hurt him, and terrified him. Konrad had never realized that he had such a low tolerance for pain. It shamed him to remember, but he’d given up within a few minutes. He had made a promise to do whatever they asked if only they would stop the pain.
“Lie to us,” the huge hulk of an Israeli said, “and we will find you again, but this time we will have no pity. We know where you live, and we know the places you go. I promise you, we will come for you. If you do not keep your promise to us you will be sorry.” He did not doubt them for a moment. The Nazi party was going to hell, and he secretly doubted that the Third Reich would ever rise again. Konrad was not one to remain devoted to a hopeless cause, a political party that could no longer offer him anything. At that moment, staring into the endless black pool of the Israeli’s eyes, Konrad had decided to do whatever he had to do in order to save himself.
Konrad took another quick look around. He was pretty sure he was alone, not followed. Then he rapidly slipped into the hallway of the run down high-rise and rang the bell for apartment #3, as the directions he’d received had instructed him to do.
Chapter 62
Mendel had made inquiries all around campus. He wanted to find a skilled and reputable jeweler. He was given some names and told that some of the finest diamond cutters had set up shop in Tel Aviv. He’d never had cause to consider making such an elaborate purchase before, and he wanted to be sure that he made a solid investment. Since Mendel’s arrival in Tel Aviv, he’d been working between classes as a waiter at one of the more posh restaurants, saving as much money as he could. He wanted to buy the nicest diamond he could possibly afford.
On a silver-blue, cloudless day, Mendel strolled up and down the avenue gazing into the windows of the jewelry stores. He felt giddy and excited, but also a little crazy. How does one buy a diamond engagement ring for a girl he has never even kissed? It was not as if Mendel didn’t know Katja. He felt that he knew her, and she knew him, better than anyone else in the world. Except maybe Rachel, but Rachel was different; Rachel was more like a boy. Katja had always been his special princess. When they were children, Katja had often come to talk to Mendel when she was upset about something. Rachel refused to acknowledge weakness and was always acting as if her spine was made of iron and she didn’t understand emotional traumas. When Katja was distraught when her cat died, it was Mendel who had comforted her. He had held her in his arms, running his hand over her hair as she curled up into him. He’d soothed her with as much wisdom as he could muster, hoping to lighten her pain.
Although they had never kissed or dated, Mendel felt as if he and Katja were closer to each other than to anyone else in the world. Rachel had not told him when she began to menstruate, but Katja had. Well, she had not exactly come out and told him, but she was moody and out of sorts, and when he guessed she had admitted to him what was wrong. He’d gone to the kitchen and gotten her hot tea, bringing it back to her room; sitting with her whil
e she had sipped even though boys were not allowed in the girls’ rooms. He’d taken a chance of getting into serious trouble. But for Mendel, Katja was worth the risk. He’d tried to make her laugh, but she had been feeling so under the weather that he had coaxed her to rest. Then when she’d fallen asleep, he had covered her with a blanket and had watched her sleep.
Mendel knew how much Katja loved pretty things so he’d bought her a beaded sweater for Hanukah one year. She’d screamed with delight, hugging him tightly. For Mendel it had been one of the happiest moments of his life. So, he’d come to Tel Aviv for school, yes, but even more for Katja. Mendel was in love. He wanted to marry his best childhood friend, and he was going to buy a ring so that he had something to give her when he proposed.
Mendel Zaltstein opened the heavy door to the jewelry shop. A tall, thick man with a long dark beard, side burns that hung in spiral curls over his ears, and a black and silver yarmulke greeted him.
“Welcome. How can I help you?”
“I want to buy an engagement ring,” Mendel said. His own voice sounded foreign to him, but the idea of marrying Katja felt so right.
Chapter 63
“So, how do you do it? You look even more beautiful than I remember,” Elan said, smiling. His teeth were white and sparkling in the sunlight, against his olive skin. “You hurt my feelings, you know, when you disappeared that night we were supposed to have dinner.” He wore his army uniform shirt open. His chest was filled with well-defined muscles, tan, and hairless.
“I know it was rude of me, I’m sorry. I couldn’t meet you,” Katja said. “I should have left a note.”
“Yes, you should have told me. I think I deserved some sort of an explanation. After all, I did come all the way back to the office looking for you, and boom . . . the office is closed and Katja is gone.” He looked at her with mock anger.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what to say, except that I am sorry.”
He laughed. “It’s all right. I’ve already forgotten about it. In fact, I am glad to see you. May I sit?” he asked, indicating the chair Katja had saved for Mendel.
“I suppose so, until Mendel arrives.”
Elan sat down.
“I didn’t know you spoke Yiddish, yet you were singing the Yiddish song,” she said. “I thought you were Sephardic, born and raised here in Israel.”
“You’re right. I don’t speak Yiddish, but with the arrival of so many survivors from the camps in Europe, I can speak a little of lots of languages, and I can understand most of them fluently.”
“Very impressive,” she said, smiling.
“You are multi-lingual, too?”
“Yes, I am,” she said, not knowing what to say. The conversation dragged, she was uncomfortable. He was handsome enough, probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but she didn’t know what to say to him. It would be best if he just left and went on his way.
The band started another song, this one in Hebrew. “You know this song?” he asked her.
“No, I’ve heard it before, but I don’t know the words.”
Elan began to sing. Then he got up taking both of her hands and began to lead her in an Israeli folk dance. Katja laughed, trying to break away and sit back down although she had no reason to be embarrassed. Other people were dancing in the street. But she was embarrassed.
“Come on; dance this one dance with me? I promise if you do, I will go away.”
She danced but as they danced, as she looked into his laughing eyes, she realized that she didn’t want him to go away. By the time the music stopped they were both out of breath.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m going to wait for Mendel.”
“I know I’m sticking my neck out and you’re probably going to chop off my head, but can we maybe try this again?”
“The dance?” Katja asked.
“No, the dinner. One night this coming week, maybe you’ll agree to have dinner with me?”
“Elan . . .”
“All right, so I should not have asked,” he said, getting up to leave.
He looked so sad and dejected.
“Wait.” She felt something stir inside of her. Katja was afraid that if she let him walk away this time he would never return.
He turned around. “Yes?”
Damn why was he so handsome?
“I’ll have dinner with you.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, all right, tomorrow.”
“How about I sit here with you during the parade?” Elan asked.
“Mendel is coming.”
“I know; you told me. I know Mendel. It will be good to see him again.”
Across the street someone had set up a game whereby the player took a ball and threw it at shelves that had been lined with stuffed animals; if the player successfully knocked one of the stuffed animals off a shelf, he or she won the toy that had been knocked off. Katja watched as the players paid their coins, only to leave without the stuffed bears or lions. Elan watched in silence as well.
“These boys don’t have such good throwing arms,” he said.
“No, they don’t.”
“Would you like to see how it’s done?” Elan asked.
He was so damn arrogant, too.
“Sure.” She almost hoped he would miss.
Elan leapt over the bleachers and down to the street. He took a coin out of his pocket and paid. The carnival barker gave him two balls. The first one he threw, he missed. Katja was watching, but he did not turn back to see her response. Instead, he took better aim. The second time he threw the ball he knocked over a bear. Then he paid again and this time he knocked over an animal with each of the two balls he threw. Elan took his prizes and made his way back up the bleachers to Katja.
“These are for you.”
She laughed. “NOW YOU have quite an arm!”
“I suppose I do.”
“How about this? I’ll keep one and we can give the other two to some children walking by?”
“They’re yours. Do with them what you will.” He smiled. “Which one do you like best?”
She chose the tan lion with his thick mane and gave the two teddy bears to two sisters sitting a few feet away.
“I hope this is all right with you,” She said.
“Of course it is. It reaffirms to me that you have a generous heart. Of course I’ve always known that you did . . .”
Just then Mendel walked over.
“Hello, Katja,” Mendel said. “Sorry I’m late. I had something come up.”
“Hello. I saved you a seat for the parade. Do you remember Elan?”
“Sure. You were dating Rachel, weren’t you?” he asked. Katja thought she detected a slightly sarcastic tone in Mendel’s voice as he looked at Elan, then at her and the stuffed lion.
“Yes, that was a few years ago.”
“And now are you living here in Tel Aviv?”
“I’m stationed here; still in the service.”
“You signed on for a fifth term?”
“Yes, I love this country of ours. I want to serve.”
Mendel became quiet and more withdrawn while Elan dominated the conversation. All during the parade, instead of standing and cheering with the crowd, Mendel seemed distracted. Katja thought he had something on his mind, but Elan kept her engrossed in conversation, not giving her a chance to ask what was wrong. By the time the sun set and everyone gathered to watch the fireworks, Mendel had left, claiming he had a test the following day. Katja knew how hard he’d been working to gain acceptance into the law program, therefore she thought nothing of his leaving early.
Mendel walked back towards the university. Had he been naïve, believing that Katja was developing feelings for him? Before today everything seemed so right. They’d spent all of their spare time together. Today Elan had shown up from out of nowhere and Katja was different. She was laughing more, giggling almost. Elan had demanded all of her attention with his ri
diculous stories about his platoon. He’d imitated voices of people walking by, and Katja had laughed. She’d laughed more than she’d ever laughed with Mendel.
Mendel felt alone, dejected, and foolish. His heart was heavy as he entered his dorm room and slammed the door behind him. Then he sat down on his small bed. Right next to the bed, on the nightstand, was the little box with the ring inside. He spotted it and felt the tears well up in his eyes. Fool, he thought. Picking up the box, he flung it at the wall. “Why, God? Why did you do this to me? You took my family, you took our home, then I finally found a little happiness, and you took that, too. Either you hate me and want me to be miserable or you don’t exist at all,” Mendel said aloud.
Katja felt the heat of Elan’s thigh against hers as they sat on the bleachers. It sent shockwaves through her that unnerved her. She tried to move away slowly so that he would not notice, but he turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. The sky lit up with color as a multitude of fireworks exploded overhead in celebration of the day.
“It’s beautiful, no?” Elan said, his eyes reflecting the lights.
“Yes very,” Katja answered.
A thunderous sound roared as a million blue stars of David exploded across the sky. They both looked up.
“This country of ours fills me with such pride,” Elan said.
“I know; me, too.”
Elan turned to Katja. She was looking up in awe as another round of blue stars filled the sky. Then he took her into his arms. Katja felt her entire body go weak, melting into the strength of his muscles against her chest. When Elan kissed her, she felt a round of fireworks exploding inside her heart.
The following day, Elan and Katja went to a restaurant that Elan had suggested for dinner. They were escorted to a private table in the back that had a crisp linen table cloth. Elan pulled out the chair for Katja. The waiter handed them both menus. Katja felt awkward, not sure what to do, so she studied the menu quietly for a few moments.
The Promised Land (All My Love, Detrick Series) (All My Love Detrick Book 3) Page 23