Tikvah came up behind Alon and put her hand on his shoulder; he turned his head, looked up at her, and smiled. He was glad to see her, even with Cane by her side. She could tell he was trying to get used to the idea of the dog. She had risked expressing her needs to her husband, and it was paying off. He was making the effort to be present for her, despite how difficult it was for him.
“It’s looking great, Alon,” Tikvah said, gazing up at the almost-complete building before her. It amazed her, still, what he could do with some wood and nails.
He stopped working to talk to her. “It may have been a foolish decision, to take on the project with no one to help me. But I like to work alone, as you know.”
Tikvah’s weight shifted, and Cane sat. “Yes, I do. I wish I still had that. My studio, my painting.” She paused, weighing whether or not to continue. She felt the rift between them narrowing. She would risk saying exactly what was on her mind, even if Alon did not want to talk about her illness. “I never said this to you outright, but it’s only since the MS started that I haven’t been able to paint at all. I painted less when you came back from Lebanon, but I was not blocked like I am now.”
Alon put down his tools and stood. He placed his hands on Tikvah’s shoulders. Her heart leapt with anticipation at the touch of her own husband—even after all these years of marriage. “You didn’t have to say it, Tikvah. I’m not that blind. I’ll do whatever you need to help you paint again. I’ll build you a new studio. Buy you all new supplies . . .”
“I wish it were that simple, Alon.”
“I miss watching you work, visiting you in your studio and peeking at your latest creations. I knew I wanted you when we met that day at the watering hole. And what followed in your apartment after was all I had hoped it would be.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “But I fell in love with you when you sketched me the next morning. In the nude.” He kissed her on the lips.
His mouth tasted salty from a morning of working in the heat. She felt with her tongue for the familiarity of his crooked front teeth. If he wanted to lay down with her then and there on the grass, she was ready and willing. Instead, he cupped her face in his hands and looked at her with those eyes that changed shades of green with his moods. Today they looked clear and open.
“You are such a talented artist, Tikvah. I didn’t want to turn your studio into a rental unit, you know.”
Tikvah sighed. “Yes, I know. You tried to talk me out of it. I don’t blame you. I want to paint again, Alon. But it’s no use. Countless times, I stood there in front of the canvas, but nothing came. I’m not like you, Alon. I can’t just channel my creative energy into utilitarian projects. I need to be inspired. I haven’t even had the creative energy to channel anymore.”
“I want to help, Tikvah. Please. What can I do to help you?”
“I told you, Alon. I need space to explore, to open myself up to what’s next. It’s only now, since I started walking out in the fields”— she knew better than to mention the valley or Ruby—“that I dare to hope I’ll find my muse again. I love being out there with the trees, the wind, the sky. I feel connected to something vast, open, and free. Something endless, but not in a frightening way. Endless in a comforting way. It’s both humbling and inspiring.”
She wondered if she should risk shutting Alon down. She was talking to him like she used to. She had already mentioned her illness. Could she also mention the dog? “And with Cane along, I don’t feel alone. She’s this all-knowing yet silent companion. A higher self, a better half. I’ve been wanting to share that with you. I knew you’d understand. I never quite got why you were so attached to your dogs. Until Cane here came into my life.”
Alon’s hands dropped to his sides. “Of course I understand what you’re saying, Tikvah. But be careful. Losing your better half may not be worth having it in the first place.”
Tikvah sensed her husband was talking not only about losing Roi, but also about losing her one day. This was why he did not want to talk about her illness. It was all of a piece. She knew that. But now he was actually admitting it. She felt hopeful. Dare she give into hope again?
“Come walk with me now, Alon. With us.”
“I can’t just drop everything,” he mumbled.
“You could, if you wanted to. The clubhouse will wait. It’s a holiday. A new year. Please, Alon.”
Alon looked at Tikvah and then down at what he was building. “I can’t do it, Tikvah. I can’t go through that again.” He got back down on his knees and picked up his tools. “You go,” he said, and returned to his building.
Tikvah stroked Alon’s shoulder, hoping he would turn around, even change his mind. But he continued hammering. Disappointed but not despondent—after all, he was making progress—she walked off with Cane. As she was closing the front gate of their property behind her, she heard Alon calling her name. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and dared to hope. She looked back at him. He was standing with his hammer in one hand and his power drill in the other.
“I see you’re wearing your hiking boots!” he called out, as he waved his hammer above his head like a flag. “It’s slippery out there with everything so parched. Stick to the roads. Or at least to the trails, if you want to wander. There’s talk of the rioting in Jerusalem moving north. These things spread like forest fire.”
If he had agreed to join her, she would have taken a different route. But since he didn’t, she was going to see Ruby. As she walked, Tikvah called Talya’s cellphone. There was no answer. She had been trying to reach her daughter for almost a week. She had not spoken to her since days before the Rosh Hashanah holiday and the rioting had begun. They usually spoke at least every other day. It could be a sign of just how serious things had gotten with Udi—those first months with Alon, Tikvah had barely spoken to anyone else—the thought of which no longer upset her as it had before. Marie and Jamal hadn’t let their more radical circumstances get in the way of their love, until they literally had no choice. Talya and Udi’s life together would be challenging, but not impossible. Even Tikvah’s own marriage, which seemed safe on the surface, had its share of challenges.
Still, Ruby had told her to be careful with Udi, that looks can be deceiving. A poisonous twin, she had said, although that was in the context of mushrooms. Tikvah too had been wary of Udi, but now she reprimanded herself for letting her fear and prejudice lead her to suspicion. Hopefully Udi and Talya would find their way to be together despite the odds. If there was a heart connection, that was what mattered most, she reassured herself. Even if it had not been enough for Jamal and Marie. But those had been war times. An intifada was not a war. Although truth be told, she was not sure they were so different.
Tikvah, with Cane beside her, reached the end of her passionfruit vineyards and turned right. She stepped through the hole in the fence, with Cane following her through, and looked out at the valley, which was spread before her like a canvas waiting to be filled. She opened her arms to embrace the day. She reached up to the sky as Ruby had shown her, and did a little bow to the Universe, to Life, to the Flow, to the Mystery.
Cane ran ahead, but Ruby was not at the old olive tree. Had she given up on Tikvah after less than a week apart? Like Alon, Ruby had trouble trusting, and for good reason. Perhaps she thought Tikvah had tired of her. Perhaps she was angry at her for not showing up, had lost her faith in their friendship. Or perhaps Ruby was not all right. The thought hit her like a slap in the face.
Tikvah raised her eyes towards the village of Bir al-Demue. Ruby had often pointed out which house was hers—the blue one at the edge of the hilltop. But that hill was steep, more so than the one to the moshav. Even with Cane along, the climb was a bad idea. Alon would be upset with her if he had to come rescue her from not only hiking a steep hill, but also entering an Arab village, alone, especially with the rioting in the territories and Jerusalem. He had told her not to go off the trails today. And he had asked her not to meet up with Ruby again.
She di
aled Ruby’s number. No answer. She began walking up toward the village. As she climbed, her strength and sense of balance deteriorated. She tripped twice, nearly falling. The ascent was getting harder, but she kept going. As the path grew steeper, her gait became wobbly and unstable, but she managed to continue the climb. Until the pins and needles in her feet turned to numbness. Then, as if the ground had turned to a sheet of ice, her foot slipped out from under her and her leg kicked up into the air. She landed with her other leg beneath her bottom. Her elbow scraped against rock, and she let out a yelp.
Cane came running and licked Tikvah’s face. She heaved herself up and rubbed off the dirt and pebbles that had become embedded in the skin of her elbow. She examined the damage; there was blood, but only scrapes. Nothing deep enough to require stitches. When she looked down at her leg, she saw that she had ripped her pants at the knee. She knew she could patch the holes, but the skin underneath required iodine and a bandage, and would take weeks to heal. She had been lucky, though. She could easily have broken an ankle or a hip with that fall, and she would have had to call Alon for help. She buried her head in Cane’s fur. At least she had the dog to comfort her now.
This would be the first and last time she would make this climb. Her eyes filled with tears behind her sunglasses. She hated feeling sorry for herself, that sense of being helpless, that dread of her bleak future. She would steel herself for the pain and keep going.
Beads of sweat collected at her temples; her arm pits were damp, too. Would she even make it up to the village? And once she did, how would she find the house? It had been in view when she set out, but now that she was getting closer, she could no longer see it. As she climbed higher and higher, her confidence dropped lower and lower. Maybe she should turn back. But she was now closer to the top than to the bottom, and when she looked down into the valley, the descent looked more challenging than forging ahead. The decision was made.
Finally, Tikvah, exhausted and sweaty, reached the top of the hill. She saw the entrance to the village up ahead. But she did not feel as relieved as she thought she would. As she negotiated narrow, winding roads and alleys, she looked for someone to ask for directions to Ruby’s house. There were no street signs, as Ruby had told her; no signage of any kind, in fact, except on the store fronts.
Tikvah looked around. Perhaps she would recognize the house. The streets lacked both addresses and greenery. The buildings were haphazardly situated, and some looked unfinished, with metal sheets closing off walls and transparent plastic for windows. Of those that were finished, some looked massive, built for extended families in stark rectangles from cement bricks, while others looked older with columns and arches—a more classic architectural feel. Still others were old one-story stone houses with slits for windows, like her own house had looked when she and Alon bought it from the moshav board. But none of the houses had the European feel of those on Moshav Sapir. It was as if Tikvah was walking through a village in a foreign country, though she was no more than a few kilometers from her own house.
A group of teenage boys was coming towards Tikvah. They were pointing at her, laughing. As they drew closer, Tikvah panicked. Alon had been right. She was looking for trouble. No one wanted her in this village. Especially not now, with the political situation being as it was. She didn’t even have her wallet with her to throw the teens some money and appease them. She had left the house with her usual knapsack, packed with a sandwich, thermos, bowl for Cane, and a bag for foraging. She had not planned to make this foolish trip.
“Yahudiyeh!” the boys shouted, still pointing at her.
She looked around but saw no one else on the street. She feared for her life. They were calling her a Jewess. It had been a risky move to come here. She heard barking behind her. It was Cane. She was barking angrily at the approaching gang. She growled and showed her teeth. Her friendly and loyal dog companion was transformed instantly into a ferocious weapon. Her moshav neighbors said dogs could smell Arabs, which had always made Tikvah feel uneasy, since she knew from Alon it was only the fear of dogs they were detecting, but those teenagers seemed to be able to tell she was a Jew without her opening her mouth. She had been naïve to think there was no danger here, that she could so easily cross over the divide created by generations of vengeance and difference. Prejudice was everywhere, not just on Moshav Sapir.
Tikvah started slowly walking backwards, but Cane headed for the teens. She barked and growled, barked and growled. When one of the thugs picked up a stick and tried to hit Cane, the dog grabbed the stick with her mouth and pulled it from the kid’s hand. She then spit the stick onto the ground and bit the teen’s thigh. He screamed something in Arabic and they all ran. Cane ran after them, but when it was clear they were not coming back, she came calmly back to Tikvah and sat down at her feet. It was like witnessing a stormy ocean suddenly turn calm and still. Tikvah hugged Cane. She never thought she could love a dog as much as she loved this one now.
An old woman with a basket of parsley on her head came around the bend. She was wearing traditional jilbab that covered her entire body, except her face and hands. She had soft eyes and leathery skin and nodded at Tikvah when she saw her. Tikvah felt emboldened, and desperate. She asked the old woman in the elementary bit of Arabic she had learned from Ruby, where she could find the house of Rabia. She pantomimed painting motions because she had no idea how to say “artist” in Arabic, and she pushed her hair back to indicate baldness. The woman—who had no teeth, Tikvah now noticed—seemed to understand, and directed her, also in a mix of pantomime and speech, to keep walking and make a few turns left and right until she reached a house at a dead end. At least that was what Tikvah thought she had said.
Tikvah headed in the direction she understood the woman to be sending her. Her ankle was still sore, but she kept walking, hoping she was not doing it more damage. The numbness in her legs had turned back to pins and needles again, though. She was grateful for that. Within a few minutes, she reached an open area at the edge of the village that looked out onto the valley. She could see right across to Sapir. Her own house was almost directly across from where she was standing. She wondered what it had been like for Jamal to stand in this spot and look out at her house—his house—day after day.
Cane was by her side, panting from the long walk in the sun. Tikvah took the bowl from her backpack and filled it with whatever water was left in her thermos. As Cane lapped it up, she studied the blue house in front of her and tried to figure out how to indicate her presence. The only way was to go ahead and walk into the yard, so she opened the makeshift gate of wire and plank wood and entered. Ruby’s family—if this was indeed their house—owned quite a bit of land. They had a small olive grove and grape vineyard. They had not only sheep and goats, which she had seen Ruby’s brothers tending on the hillside, but also chickens and ducks. Suddenly, a dog came out from behind the house, barking at Tikvah. It too was part Canaan. It growled at Cane, and Cane growled back. They barked at each other. Tikvah tried to calm her dog—she grabbed onto her collar—but Cane was already too agitated to be appeased, and Tikvah was not strong enough to control her against her will.
“Meen hunak?” came a voice from the direction of the house.
There was a face in the window. And within seconds, there was a man at the front door. He was tall, like Ruby. In fact, he looked like a younger male version of her. Tikvah assumed this was one of Ruby’s brothers. The man whistled at his dog, and the dog came to him. He grabbed the dog’s collar, and the dog stopped barking, let out one last growl, and sat. Cane too stopped barking, and Tikvah patted her back until she was sitting as well. Tikvah had never tried to train her. She had no way to make her sit or stay. But they did seem to have some kind of understanding.
“Rabia?” Tikvah asked, and the man nodded, albeit slowly and with suspicion.
Tikvah realized just how tense her body had been only as she felt her clenched jaw slacken, her hunched shoulders fall back into place. The man went inside and
came out moments later with Ruby on his arm. Tikvah approached Ruby. Her skin had a tint of yellow; her eyes were sunken and surrounded by dark gray circles. She looked as if she had lost a quarter of her body weight in the one week Tikvah had not seen her. It was clear that her condition had deteriorated, and that she was too weak to have made it down to the olive tree in the past week, anyway.
There was another difference. Ruby’s scarf was wrapped tightly around her head, like usual, but it was also wrapped around her neck, which Tikvah assumed, knowing her friend, was not for religious reasons, but rather to keep her frail body warm. But her friend’s cynical smile was the same, her skin still crinkled around her off-kilter nose and knowing eyes. Ruby moved slowly and unsteadily, but she let go of the man’s arm, and within seconds she was rubbing noses with Cane again.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to Tikvah after she and Cane finished their greeting. “This is my brother, Raja. The one I told you about, with the publishing business.” She said something to her brother in Arabic, and he returned to the house.
“Come with me,” Ruby said, grabbing onto Tikvah’s arm; it was clear Ruby would need her help to get to where she wanted to go. “I want to show you our diwan, where we can have some privacy. My other brothers won’t be coming home any time soon. They left early this morning for some important meeting. There is a general strike today in our sector, to protest the killings of five Palestinians in the rioting yesterday. Did you hear the news yet today?”
“This morning I heard about the rioting in Jerusalem.”
“Well, it’s spreading north, too. Just now, we heard about rioting in an-Nasira.”
Alon had been right. Nazareth was so close. Tikvah’s stomach tightened. Was it safe for her to stay? How was she going to get home now?
Ruby directed Tikvah to the back room off of the main house, next to the chicken coop; it looked much like the one attached to their house that they had turned into her art studio when they first moved in. They entered, and Cane entered after them. Multi-colored glass Arabian lamps hung from the ceiling, reflecting kaleidoscope rainbows of light around the room, and the walls were covered with an assortment of what Tikvah assumed were Ruby’s paintings. Tikvah set down her backpack and checked her phone messages. Still nothing from Talya. Her battery was low, so she turned off the phone so as not to get caught outside the front gate again.
Hope Valley Page 22