by Eli Hai
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
Rivka’s hand jerked in alarm and the many pills fell and scattered all over the floor.
“Who is it?” she asked, while scurrying in a panic to pick up the pills.
“It’s me,” she heard Ahron on the other side of the door.
Lately, Ahron had been visiting a lot, and during every visit, he tried to convince her to accept her fate. “You have no choice,” he kept saying. “God taught us to accept the good and the bad equally. Try to see the bright side of things and enjoy it as much as possible.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked this time, as he always did, the minute she opened the door for him.
“How do you think?” she answered without raising her head.
“God, I don’t know. Maybe you should go to the hospital. You don’t look so good, and that’s saying the least. Your eyes are dull, and you’re so thin. Obviously, you’ve been starving yourself.”
“What can I do? It’s not in my hands. Yesterday, I actually ate a bit. I want to eat, but unfortunately, I have no appetite whatsoever. What would you in my place? Nu, let’s hear you, Mr. Know-It-All, what would you do?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. …”
“You see? It looks so easy from the side: a girl with a defect marries a boy with a defect. So simple. If you had the slightest idea what I was going through, you wouldn’t wed me. Certainly not now. What’s the rush?”
“The wedding date is getting closer,” he reminded her, following her expression.
“Close, close. What can I do?” She stared at him indifferently. The agitation that seized her just several minutes ago disappeared as though it had never even existed.
“What, don’t you care?” he poked insistently.
“No. If I have the strength, I’ll come, and if not, I’ll fall on the way there,” she said, hinting at the difficulties she may create.
This isn’t encouraging, he thought. Once, a long time ago, he read, in a ultra-orthodox newspaper, actually, that a person suffering from depression didn’t display signs of sadness or anger, for he didn’t care about himself. Sadness and anger showed that he was still sensitive to his surroundings. However, the minute a person was apathetic concerning his situation, things became problematic. Rivka was apathetic in regards to her situation, of that he had no doubt. Perhaps, she was considering ending her life? He’d already read and heard about cases as such that ended in a loss of life. Was Rivka capable of that? Was she capable of doing something that went unequivocally against the Torah? Eventually, he reached the frightening conclusion that a person in depression was indeed capable of it. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and he had no control over his actions.
“And if I tell you the situation can be changed?” he asked.
“How exactly?” She lifted her head. For the first time since he came in, their eyes met.
“I’ll tell you how. I know I’m about to do something that will bring the wrath of the entire family on my head, but I don’t care. Whatever happens, it’s my obligation to help you. I’m the one who got you into this mess, and I’m the one who’ll help you get out of it. If it’s a sin that I’m doing, God is the one who’ll settle the score with me.”
“And what exactly is this thing you plan to do?” she asked skeptically, but sat straighter, narrowing her eyes at him curiously.
“Okay, the story goes like this, listen carefully. A month ago, I received a letter from Jeff. …” He noticed the pallor of her face change the minute she heard Jeff’s name. Finally, she was reacting positively.
“What does he want?” she whispered, her pale face flushing, her eyes filling with tears.
“In the letter, he asked me to help you. He said he tried to write to you twice, but unsuccessfully. I know two letters were delivered here and that Yehuda destroyed them. I also know no one read them. He tore them to pieces, and everyone agreed that he do that, including Papa and Mother,” Ahron said, trying to interpret his sister’s reaction.
“You see, even when I had a shred of hope, that despicable brother of mine destroyed it,” she said and suddenly started hiccupping.
“Someone’s thinking about you now.” He smiled encouragingly.
“Probably Yehuda, who’s thinking how to kick my butt,” she said, hiccups mixing with laughter, as she wiped her tears. She remembered that she hadn’t laughed for weeks. Ahron looked at her and laughed, too.
“Nu, go on,” she said, still laughing, but no longer crying.
“Jeff wrote that he’d discovered you were going to get married against your will. He demanded that I prevent it. He said it was my moral obligation to do so. He literally ordered me to do it.” Ahron paused for a long time, then took a deep breath.
“And how exactly will you help me?” she asked and anxiously waited for his answer.
“This isn’t easy for me, sister. It’s so hard for me. I know that with this decision, I’m causing you to desecrate the name of God, heaven help us. You know that Papa can perform kriah on you. I haven’t slept for nights because of this, and I’ve even consulted with rabbis outside of our sect. In the end, after consulting with Miriam, I’ve decided to do as Jeff suggested.”
“And what did he suggest?”
Ahron shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out an envelope stuffed with dollar bills.
“There are three thousand dollars here. Would you believe it? He asked me to give you this money and said it would help you. He wrote his phone number on the envelope and also added his address. He asked that you call whenever you need help.”
“So much money! Why did he give so much?”
“So you’d be able to get out of here.”
“Get out? Me?” Rivka panicked.
Ahron nodded.
“And you think I can take this money?”
“Not only can you take it, you must. He did it out of his own free will. You mustn’t refuse charity.”
“And where would I go?”
“It’s all arranged. I’ll explain everything. But first, promise me something.”
“What?”
“Promise me you won’t go to him. I know he’s a good man, don’t forget he was my friend. But he’s a Christian, and you mustn’t forget that. If you go to him, my sin will be too heavy to bear, and I won’t be able to live with myself. Can you promise me that?”
“I promise. It’s actually quite simple for me. The last time I left his place, I saw a woman get out of a big car and go into his apartment. I’m sure she’s the reason he didn’t want me. What’s important for me now is that I leave this place and go live somewhere else, living the way I want to. I’m no longer interested in him, even though I think of him frequently…” she said sadly.
“Then let’s continue. To make it easy for you, make an Aliyah.”
“Aliyah? Me? How exactly do you make Aliyah?”
“I checked it all for you. This evening pack a small suitcase, the smallest you can pack. Tomorrow at dawn, while Papa will be praying the morning prayer and Mother will be sleeping in her room, I’ll come to take you. We’ll travel together to the Jewish Agency.”
“The Jewish Agency?”
“Yes, the Jewish Agency. I checked everything. The Jewish Agency is an organization that brings Jews to Israel. They have branches all over the world. They also have one on 3rd Avenue. You and I will go there and ask them to help you.”
“Israel! I’m shocked! But where will I go there?” she asked and then her eyes filled with light. “I know! I’ll go to my friend Dvora.”
“Dvora? What’s Dvora doing in Israel?” Ahron asked in bemusement.
“She’s been in Israel for a couple of months.”
“Dvora in Israel? I didn’t know. Whatever. But don’t go to her! Go to Aunt Rachel. I’ve already spoken to her the day before yesterday and told her to expect you. She was so happy. Said she’d treat you like a queen. You’ll live in her house, on the kibbutz, until you get settled. The agency people wil
l take care of all the rest.”
“You spoke with Aunt Rachel? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Can I kiss you, brother?” she asked earnestly.
“Yes!” he surprised her and gave her his cheek.
“How will we tell Papa and Mother?” she asked after kissing him.
“Write them a letter. Give me the letter tomorrow morning. I’ll give it to them after you leave America. The most important thing is that you apologize and ask for their forgiveness. Write to them that you’re traveling to Israel to Aunt Rachel. Promise them that you’ll continue observing the mitzvoth. That’s what is most important to them. I know you’re going to change your lifestyle, but always remember, Rivkel, where you came from, that there’s only one God and that He’s guarding you. You mustn’t, under any circumstance, turn your back on Him. Do you promise?”
“No chance that will happen. Without Him, none of us are worth a thing,” she replied, her voice choked with tears.
“I’ll leave now, and you go eat before you faint,” he said and left the room.
The minute he left, Rivka snuck out of the room and put all the medications back in place. Then, she went to the kitchen and ate. First, she ate a little, as much as she could. Two hours later, she returned to the kitchen and ate again. She ate everything within reach. She hadn’t eaten like that even during the meal before the Yom Kippur and Tisha Be’Av fasts combined. Then, she took a long, leisurely shower. When she came out, she wore her pajamas and combed her hair painstakingly. After that, she took her backpack, packed a few items of clothes, a notebook, a pen, and a book. When she finished, she sat down to write. She wrote, and as she wrote, tears streamed down her face. She filled four pages full of small, crowded writing. Pages on which the ink mixed with her tears. When she finished, she climbed into bed, yet sleep eluded her. She was awake until dawn. Even the stomach pains that were caused by nervousness and binging couldn’t prevent the happiness that washed over her. In the morning, Ahron arrived as promised, and together, they snuck out of the house.
Outside for the first time in months, Rivka noticed that both winter and spring had passed, and a warm, caressing sun, heralding the beginning of summer, welcomed her pale, thin face.
Chapter 14
Ahron and Rivka walked quietly along the hall. Nevertheless, the echo of their footsteps on the laminated floor was loud. From the rooms along the corridor, the gazes of curious officials followed them in the early morning hours, causing them discomfort. On the walls, they noticed pictures of the founding fathers: Hertzel and Ben Gurion. Definitely not pictures they were used to seeing until now.
“Not even one picture of a rabbi,” Ahron whispered in complaint.
“Why would there be a picture of a rabbi? We’re not in a yeshiva or a synagogue,” Rivka whispered back.
“In order to highlight the common dominator. Show the Jewish connection between the Satmars’ Rabbi Teitelbaum, of blessed memory, to Shimon Peres, for example.”
“This is a stronghold of Zionism. The rabbi didn’t acknowledge the Zionist movement. In our establishments, I haven’t seen pictures of Zionist leaders, only pictures of rabbis,” Rivka protested, and Ahron was silent.
“Can you direct us to Morris’s room?” he asked one of the secretaries after despairing of finding the room they were looking for.
“End of the hall, right,” she replied and studied them curiously.
They continued walking until they reached the required room. Ahron knocked on a fancy wooden door. In the middle of the door, was a big sign that announced “Morris Ben-Dahan; Senior Aliyah Official.”
“Come in,” they heard a voice on the other side.
They entered quickly, happy to find shelter from the inquisitive eyes of the officials.
The official suspiciously scrutinized the unexpected guests. In all his years of work, he’d never been visited by radical ultra-orthodox Jews, who renounced the Zionist state and had no desire to immigrate to it.
“Hello, are you Mr. Morris?” Ahron asked.
“Yes, I’m Morris. How can I help you?”
“We’re here regarding matters of Aliyah. The receptionist sent us to you. She said you’re in charge of Aliyah,” Ahron continued.
“That’s correct. I’m the person you’re looking for. Do you want to make Aliyah?” he asked in surprise.
“Not me. She does.” Ahron pointed at Rivka.
“Welcome. First of all, fill out the request forms. Then, we’ll conduct a personal interview.” He took out a bundle of forms and put them on the table next to Rivka.
“I thought you were husband and wife,” he said apologetically when Rivka started filling out forms.
“No, God forbid! She’s my little sister.”
“Did something unusual happen, or is her Aliyah planned?” The appearance of the odd couple in his office was uncommon and instilled some life in the sleepy official.
“She’s got this crazy idea in her head that she wants to immigrate to Israel,” Ahron lied. The questions addressed to him made him uncomfortable.
“When your sister finishes filling out the forms, we’ll interview her, and then we’ll know everything,” Morris said.
Rivka continued filling out the forms. First, she filled in her personal details, then she answered the questions regarding the reason she was applying for Aliyah. In the end, she was required to mention her destination in Israel. When she was finished, Morris led them to an adjacent room, where an older, maternal-looking secretary sat. She took the forms, went through them for a long time, then lifted her eyes and said in a cordial voice, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Rochelle, the social worker. I’m here to make sure the process occurs without any hitches. I see only your request in the documents, Rivka. What about you?” She turned her piercing stare to Ahron.
“God forbid, I’m not making an Aliyah. I’m her brother. She had some misgivings about coming alone, so I came with her,” he explained.
“I understand. Well, according to the accepted process, we tend to meet several times with the applicants. So, you’ll have to come here for a week, every morning for four hours. The purpose of the meetings is to prepare you for the encounter with your new country, explain the anticipated acclimation hardships, as well as your rights as a new olah—that means a new immigrant—regarding work, studies, and financial aid. Go home now, and come back in two days for the first meeting,” she concluded.
“I don’t think you understand my situation. There’s no way I can return home. I have no place to go back to,” Rivka said in fright.
“Why? Have you run away from home?” Morris tried to confirm what he’d already realized.
“Yes, I ran away. Or more accurately, I left,” Rivka replied. She was afraid her answer would impede matters.
“Why did you leave?” Rochelle insisted on asking difficult questions.
“It’s a long story. Not something I can explain briefly,” Rivka replied uncomfortably.
“And do you have a passport?” Morris asked suddenly.
Rivka shook her head and paled. Another obstacle had arisen.
“Okay, never mind. Don’t stress yourself. We’re accustomed to these situations, and we have a solution,” Morris soothed her.
“If she isn’t going back with you, you’d better go. But don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her and do everything that has to be done. We have a building in the city that belongs to the agency. She’ll stay there during the following week. During that time, we’ll procure a passport for her. Then, we’ll put her on the plane, and viola, Israel,” Rochelle said to Ahron, and then addressed Rivka, “Do have some place to go to in Israel, Rivka?”
“Yes, I have an aunt in Kibbutz Ayelet HaShachar. I’ll stay with her until I find a place to stay.”
“Great. Beautiful kibbutz, Ayelet HaShachar,” Rochelle said. Then she turned to Ahron and said, “You can say good-bye to your sister.”
“Good-bye, Rivkel. Take care of yourself. Don’t forget to tell me the time
and number of your flight. And when you get to Aunt Rachel, call me right away. I also expect you to write a lot.” He wanted to hug his sister tightly, hold her close, but chose to maintain rules of modesty. He was deeply sorry that he couldn’t even embrace his own sister. Without a doubt, the rules we live by are too harsh, he thought painfully.
“Good-bye, brother. I love you. Thank you for everything you did for me. Send a special thanks to Miriam from me and many kisses to the little ones.” By then, Rivka could no longer help herself. She burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, Rivkel. You’re following your dream. You wanted to leave, right? So, here, you’re leaving, and may God help you,” Ahron soothed her.
“Before you go, promise me something,” she requested amid her tears.
“What?”
“Thank Jeff for the money. I probably won’t see him again, and you’re the only one who can thank him for me.”