by Kathy Kacer
ing out to an infinite horizon. The water shimmered
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and glistened in the sunlight, reflecting a kaleido-
scope of colors from blue to green, with yellow and red tints thrown into the mix. There was a seawall made
of giant rocks in the distance that calmed the water closer to shore. Gentle waves lapped up on the beach and rippled across the sand that spread for miles in both directions.
Anna and Eric ran down a small hill and over to
the water’s edge. Anna threw off her jacket, kicked
off her shoes, and waded in. The water tickled as it licked at her toes. Yes, the temperature was definitely warmer than the Baltic Sea and surprisingly warm for this November day, just as Papa had said it would be.
She hiked her trousers up and waded farther in, right up to her knees. Then she scooped some water in her
hands and threw it high in the air, shrieking and covering her head as the spray came down on top of her.
She could taste the salt in her mouth. Eric was right by her side, running across the shallow waves and
kicking his heels up into the air. Anna threw back her head, spread her arms wide, and laughed out loud.
She wondered why she had been so nervous to come
here with Eric. There was nothing to be afraid of.
The beach was relatively quiet, though here and
there, young children were building sand castles
while their parents looked on. Only a few people were
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brave enough to swim. While the water was reason-
ably warm and the sun shone down on them, the
air was cool and a biting wind was blowing across
the beach, lifting a fine layer of sand up into the air.
When Anna turned her back, she felt the sharp pricks of sand against her skin.
After a while, she and Eric stopped wading in the
sea and Anna bought some dates and nuts from a
vendor on the beach using the money Baba had given
her. Then she went in search of some flowers. She had not yet added to her dried flower collection. And the wild flowers that grew by the far edge of the sand
would be perfect. She picked a couple of flowers that were as blue as the seawater, and one that was bright red. She would figure out what they were later. For
now, she carefully placed them in her pocket so they wouldn’t be crushed.
Finally, she sank down onto the sand next to Eric.
“I’m glad you convinced me to come,” she said, offering him some dates.
Eric grinned. His bright red hair was standing
straight up in the breeze and he was trying un-
successfully to smooth it down. “Me too. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
Anna nodded and stared back out at the sea. “Do
you ever think about what you want to be when you’re
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older?” she asked. She lifted up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers, holding it away from the wind.
Eric shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think about being a
teacher. Or maybe I’ll be a travel guide. I do like to go exploring.” He flashed a grin. “What about you? Do
you know what you want to do?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I want to be a musician like my father.” After listening to the orchestra rehearsing for the opening concert, she had become more and
more certain of that. Over the last couple of months, she had continued with her clarinet lessons under
her father’s watchful eye. It wasn’t always pretty. She knew that sometimes she still sounded a bit like a
crow when she played. But she was getting better and better; she was sure of that. She still dreamed that one day, somehow, she would have her own clarinet and
not have to borrow Papa’s.
The sun was beginning to slip down toward the
horizon. Families were packing up their chairs and
blankets and climbing back up the small hill behind
them to their homes. It was time for Anna and Eric
to head home as well. It had been a perfect after-
noon, and Anna couldn’t wait to tell Papa and Baba
all about it. Next time she would bring her swim-
suit for sure. Eric stood up and extended his hand to
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help Anna. She pulled herself up and gave him one
more playful shove before running back to the water’s edge to retrieve her shoes and jacket. Eric was right behind her. But just as they reached the shoreline,
she heard a deep, booming blast that echoed across
the beach from some distance away. Anna jumped as
the sand under her feet suddenly shifted. She stared off to where the blast had come from and was alarmed to see black smoke billowing and pouring across
the sky.
Chapter
30
“What is that?” Anna asked. Her heart felt as if it
had suddenly clenched into a tight fist. The smoke in the distance was growing thicker and blacker, and
the re maining families on the beach were running in all directions, dragging their little ones behind them.
“We need to get out of here.” Eric’s voice was loud
and urgent. He grabbed Anna’s jacket and shoes,
shoving them into her hands, and then grabbed his
own. The two of them raced up the hill and onto
the street, which had become flooded with people
running with their heads down. As they struggled to
put their shoes back on, they were followed by armored vehicles moving in formation. Announcements were
being blasted over a loudspeaker. But the broad-
cast was in Hebrew, and despite her growing skill in 212
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the language, Anna could not catch what was being
said.
“Can you tell me what’s happening, please?” She
stopped a woman who was scurrying past, carrying
parcels under one arm and protecting her head with
the other.
“Take cover,” the woman shouted as she passed.
“There could be a second attack!” And then she was
gone.
Attack? Who is attacking? She looked at Eric, eyes frantically searching his face. He had grown pale and his eyes behind his glasses bulged with fear. “Eric, which way do we go?”
At first he looked confused. He glanced to the
right, then behind them, and then right again. “Eric!”
she repeated, louder this time.
Finally, he shook his head and pointed up a road.
“This way. Follow me,” he shouted.
Anna sprinted after him. At one point, she near-
ly plowed headlong into a British army man who
marched past with his rifle at the ready. He shouted at her. “Didn’t you hear the warning? Get off the street.”
Eric grabbed her arm and they darted around
the soldier and ran some more, turning to the left
and then to the right, passing under an archway and
across a park. Anna didn’t remember having come
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this way to get to the beach, but she followed Eric, hoping and praying that he knew where he was
going. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the
hills in the distance and the sky was losing its light.
Papa will be frantic with worry, Anna thought as she continued to follow Eric through the streets,
which were becoming more and more deserted. The
sudden quiet was almost more terrify
ing than the
commotion of moments earlier. And still they ran,
until finally, Eric slowed and came to a stop. Anna
came up next to him, breathing heavily. He looked up the street and then down, and then up once more.
“Eric, where are we?” Anna was struggling to
catch her breath.
“I … I’m not sure. I thought I knew the way. But
I’m just not sure.”
“But you said you knew where we were going!”
Eric knew how to get everywhere. He had a sense of
direction that was unequaled. But this time, he held his hands up as if he were surrendering.
“I think I’m lost.”
Lost? No, that wasn’t possible. Soon the mandatory curfew would take effect. And then what? Would
they be arrested? Would they be shot? Anna squeezed
her eyes shut and tried to block the wild thoughts that were galloping through her brain.
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The whole outing suddenly felt as if it had been
one big mistake. Gone was the pleasure of having discovered the beach and tasted the spray of saltwater, of collecting flowers and playing in the sand. She was angry that she had followed Eric and not listened to her gut, which had told her not to go. And then she
stopped herself. Eric already looked so tormented. It wasn’t fair of her to put all of this on him. She reached out and touched his arm. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s just try and figure out what we’re going to do.”
Just then, as they stood under a street lamp, shiv-
ering in the cool evening air, a car pulled up and
stopped next to them. Its headlights beamed a spooky glow that lit up the road in front. The driver rolled down his window and nodded toward Anna and Eric.
Anna squinted to make out the man who leaned
out from behind the wheel. He was younger than
Papa, with a face that was long and narrow. He had
dark eyes, a short beard, and eyebrows that were
so bushy it looked as if two caterpillars had walked across his forehead and nested there. An embroidered linen scarf was draped over his head, held in place by a black braided cord. He scratched at his beard with one hand while the other rested on the steering wheel.
Alarm bells were going off in Anna’s mind. This was
an Arab man. Anna had seen others like him in the
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market. She hadn’t been frightened then. But every-
thing felt different here on these darkened streets.
Frantically, she searched left and right, hoping to see someone else there. The streets were empty.
The man was talking, saying something in Arabic.
Then he reached a spindly arm out the window,
pulled open the back door, and waited. The car was
rattling and belching smoke from its rear exhaust. It looked as unsafe as the man who was driving it.
“What does he want?” Eric whispered.
“I think he’s offering us a ride.”
The man nodded toward the back seat and spoke
again. And then he smiled, a broad grin that reached from ear to ear. This is so wrong, Anna’s mind screamed . And dangerous! Who was this man? How did they know he was safe? If Papa or Baba knew
that they were taking a ride from this stranger, they would have gone crazy. “What should we do?” she
whispered.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Eric
replied with as much uncertainty as Anna was
feeling. “We don’t have any other way to get home.
But stay close to me,” he added. “If he tries anything, we’ll jump out the back.”
Anna shuddered and shifted from one foot to
the other. She had already ignored her instincts in
following Eric to the beach. Was she going to ignore
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them a second time? But there really was no choice
here. To wander the streets in the dark would put
them in even greater danger. She nodded at Eric.
Agreed! They approached the car, got in, and closed the door.
The stranger eyed them through the rearview
mirror. “Asim,” he said, tapping his chest.
“That must be his name,” Eric muttered before
the man continued talking, a string of rapid Arabic
words that meant nothing to Anna.
“I think he wants to know where to take us,” she
said. What was he even doing out driving at this
time? Normally, Arabic drivers needed an army
escort to be in this part of Tel Aviv. Perhaps in the commotion following the explosion, he had simply
been forgotten. The explosion! She still had no idea what had happened.
Anna and Eric remained silent. Eric was pressed
against the back door and Anna was as close to him
as she could get without sitting on his lap. Asim was staring at them, waiting for a response. Then he spoke again, pantomiming his hands turning the steering
wheel and then shrugging his shoulders as if he were asking for instructions on where to drive.
Eric leaned forward and spoke in slow Hebrew. “The
apartment buildings close to the Levant Fairgrounds.
That’s where we live.”
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Asim continued to stare at them, knitting his
bushy eyebrows together.
“Let me try,” Anna said. She took a deep breath
and repeated, “Levant. Levant.” She said it louder the second time, as if raising her voice would help her
make herself understood. And all the while, she kept thinking of Papa. He would be scared to death if she didn’t get home soon.
Suddenly, Asim broke into another wide grin and
nodded energetically. “Levant,” he replied. Then he
turned around, put the car into gear, and took off.
Eric and Anna remained silently pressed together
in the back seat. Anna stared out the window,
desperate to catch sight of some landmark that was
familiar. So far, nothing was recognizable. There was a photograph on the dashboard of Asim’s car. Anna
could make out two young children, seated next to
each other, faces solemn and eyes as big as saucers.
When Asim caught her stare in his rearview mirror,
he nodded toward the picture and then touched
his chest.
“Ab,” he said.
Anna recognized the word, which was so close
to its Hebrew equivalent. “I think he’s their father,”
she whispered to Eric. She nodded toward the photo.
“Those must be his kids.”
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Asim nodded. “Sada,” he said, pointing to the
little girl. “Ali,” he added, indicating the boy.
Anna smiled. Her body was still tightly wound,
and her stomach was still in knots. But it was some-
how reassuring to discover that this stranger was a
father. It made him seem less dangerous. He continued to drive, turning this way and that. Finally, Anna
spotted their apartment complex up ahead. Relief
washed over her. “There it is,” she cried, pointing
up ahead.
Asim nodded. “Levant,” he replied.
A second later, all of Anna’s relief disappeared
as she spotted her father standing outside, pacing
anxiously. Eric’s mother and father were there too.
But instead of pulling into the driveway next to
their building, Asim suddenly stopped the car some
/>
distance away. He turned and stared at Anna and
Eric. Then he pointed to their door and muttered
something.
“I don’t think he wants to go all the way up there,”
Eric said.
Anna nodded. It was probably best not to have
their families meet this man. As grateful as Papa
would be for their return, in this time of heightened tension in the country, he would still be distraught to know they had accepted a ride from an Arabic man.
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She and Eric climbed out of the car and stood
next to it while Asim rolled down his window. In
the dusky light of the street lamp, it looked as if his eyebrows were dancing across his forehead. He smiled once more, touched his temple, and said, “Salaam.”
Once again, Anna recognized the Arabic word. He
was saying good-bye to them. “Shalom,” she replied in Hebrew. Then he drove off, his exhaust belching
and blowing smoke.
Eric and Anna turned and sprinted up the drive-
way. Anna was immediately scooped up by Papa, who
squeezed her so hard, she nearly lost her breath.
“Annichka! Oh, my darling girl. I was sick with
worry. What happened? Where were you?”
Papa hugged and squeezed and wouldn’t let her
go. Finally, she managed to pull away. “I’m so sorry, Papa,” she cried. “We went to the beach.” When she
saw his stricken face, she added, “I know, I know!
We thought we knew where we were. But after the
explosion …”
“Yes, we were even more frantic when we heard
the blast. A train was derailed with a grenade in Lod, about ten miles from here. We were just going to
begin searching for you—Eric’s parents and me. We
didn’t know where to start. You’re not hurt, are you?”
He examined her face, searching for an injury or cut, or something.
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Eric was in an animated conversation with his
father. His mother looked as if she might pass out.
Her face was stamped with terror. Anna raised her
voice to make sure that Eric’s parents could hear
her.
“No, we’re fine.” Eric’s father stopped talking and
looked in her direction. “Eric was trying to find the way back here. But it was getting dark and we weren’t sure what to do.”
“How did you ever get home?” Papa asked.
Anna and Eric exchanged glances across the