No Time for Tears

by Cynthia Freeman

  “That is right.”

  “Well, you do know, Aaronson, I have a huge country to manage. Every prisoner is not brought to my attention. Why are they there?”

  “On a contrived and unsubstantiated charge of spying. Could anything be more ridiculous?”

  Or true? Jamal thought. He remembered the plans sitting on his desk … but absolutely nothing had come of that, and he had carefully watched and waited … “Who made the accusation?”

  “The Germans … in all due respect to their status as our allies, I wouldn’t trust them any more than I would the British, French or Russians. I owe them no loyalty. My allegiance is to my government, the Ottoman Empire, and to you, who have proven your friendship.”

  Jamal was pleased. His love for the Germans was almost as great as for the British. “Yes, go on, about the Germans.”

  “I know they feel a sense of superiority over us Turks. They have the fleet and the air power. Unfortunately, we do not. There is also an arrogance about them, and it is my guess that they would like nothing better than to take a very large slice of the cake when the war is over.”

  This Jew was very smart indeed. Aaronson was expressing the same thought he had lived with for a long time. “What do you mean by a large slice, Aaronson?”

  Aaron knew that he was beginning to gain his advantage by playing on Jamal Pasha’s antagonism toward the Germans. He felt it, he sensed it He hurried on. “By large … I mean Palestine and Syria.”

  Aaron was right in his evaluation, he understood the Oriental mind and knew nothing was more seductive than greed. Jamal Pasha sat and stared as his anger visibly grew. He could see himself being thrown out of his office and replaced by some arrogant German … Jawohl, mein Herr … Jamal Pasha would see them in hell first.

  “… To hang them …”

  “What, Aaronson? My mind wandered for a moment… you were saying?”

  “An army, they say, fights on its stomach. That’s why I sent Landau and Feinberg, our chief agronomists, to do a study on wheat growing in the Negev. But they were arrested by your, if you will excuse me, stupid German patrols. They have a German mentality, and because my men couldn’t produce some ridiculous card, they were arrested as spies. Now, I ask you, how intelligent can they be when they can make a big show of arresting scientists in the desert who should be able to go wherever grain can be found to feed the army? In order to make it appear that they perform a useful job here, they are about to hang them to impress the kaiser.”

  The blood had rushed to Jamal Pasha’s face. Stupid, stupid Germans. With their goose-stepping and their blond close-cropped hair, those watery blue insipid eyes and ridiculous Viking faces. The Ottoman army could die of starvation and the kaiser, with his crippled army, wouldn’t send a krone. If the empire collapsed he would do a Strauss waltz in Damascus. He was on to them, so was Aaronson. Smart Jew…

  Jamal called for his secretary to come in immediately.

  “Send a telegram … Beersheba. Absalom Feinberg and Dovid Landau are to be freed without delay.”

  From Damascus Aaron and the two men went to Beersheba, where they were led down the dark, cold stone corridor to Absalom’s cell.

  Even the dim shaft of light almost blinded Absalom when the cell door was opened. It seemed he had been in the dark for a very long time, and now he was sure that the end had come. And then … was he imagining? … no, it was Aaron’s voice … incredible … “Shalom, I’m glad you dropped by,” he said with an ironic bravado he hardly felt.

  Aaron raged inwardly at the condition Absalom was in. His normally well-groomed beard was matted with saliva, his lips were cracked from lack of water. His entire ordeal was written in the dark circles under his eyes … What barbarians. He would have given his life to choke Jamal Pasha as he watched Absalom trying to get up. “Thank God you’re alive … we’re taking you home. Samuel, get him out to the wagon and I’ll see about Dovid. Then come back.”

  “I can do it, Aaron, on my own—”

  “You’ve done enough. Now, take him out….”

  Aaron and Zalman found Dovid on a cold stone floor, shaking, convulsed with malaria. He had been given no quinine since his attack. He was beyond recognizing anyone. As they picked him up he could only mumble incoherently.

  “Inhuman …” Aaron said. “I brought quinine when I was here, they didn’t give him any … thank God we brought some …”

  When Dovid lay alongside Absalom in the wagon, Aaron took the reins and whipped the horse into a fast gait. Zalman sat next to Dovid and wiped away the sweat pouring from him. He tried to pour water from a jug, which almost fell out of his hand as they hit a deep rut in the road. Finally he replenished the cup, opened Dovid’s mouth and put the quinine on his tongue, forcing him to drink. Dovid’s teeth chattered so badly he couldn’t swallow. Zalman tried again until he managed, then covered him with more blankets. “Thank God, the quinine seems to be working,” Zalman said as he watched Dovid fall into the blessed release of sleep.

  “What’s been going on at home?” Absalom asked quietly.

  “You have a big surprise,” Samuel told him.

  “The only surprise I know is that they didn’t hang us. What else?”

  “You have someone waiting for you at Zichron.”

  Absalom hardly dared hope, but he got out the name … “Sarah … ?”

  “Mazel tov. If you can still think of her, I think you’ll be all right,” Samuel said….

  It was two o’clock in the morning when they reached Zichron, and then the Aaronson home. Absalom was carried upstairs, where a waiting Sarah nearly fainted when she saw him. “Here, bring him into Aaron’s old room.”

  When they were alone Sarah allowed the tears to come. “Thank God, you’ve come home…”

  Absalom smiled. “My Sarah? I know I’m dreaming …let me look at you … no, I’m not dreaming.” He took her hand. “It was all worth it if it could bring you back….”

  When Chavala heard the sound of the wagon in the morning’s stillness she quickly got out of bed. Nervously she slipped into her robe, tied the sash around her waist and ran out of the room, down the stairs and across the courtyard to Aaron’s house, where Dovid had been put to bed.

  Flinging open the door she asked Aaron, “Where is he?”

  “In my room…”

  She didn’t wait for any reassurance, instead she rushed past Aaron. When she saw Dovid’s face it mattered not at all what he looked like. He was alive, and she knew God had sent him back to her.

  Quickly she filled a basin of water and put it on the table next to the bed. Pulling back the covers, she called for Aaron, who immediately came into the room. “Help me take off his clothes, and get me some quinine …”

  After giving him the medication she washed his quivering body, replaced the bedding, then sat quietly beside the bed and held his hand. She was sure she felt Dovid’s life ebbing away … this was the worst attack he’d ever had. And his condition had deteriorated so badly that it seemed impossible he could sustain it.

  For three days and nights she scarcely slept or ate, but eventually, involuntarily, her eyes closed and she fell into a light slumber … Dovid’s voice came to her out of a dream. It seemed to be saying, “Chavala, dearest Chavala, I must have willed myself to live just so I could see your face again …”

  She opened her eyes. It had not been a dream. The crisis had passed, and now he lay quite still. He held out his weakened hand to her. Kneeling by his side she caressed his face. “We’re together, my darling,” and she said it over and over, her words watered by tears of gratitude.

  For the next week Chavala tended to him like a child. She lavished her love on him, and his heart was nourished by it.

  Gradually his strength returned.

  As they walked in the vineyard, Dovid stopped and looked at his wife. “I’ve missed you so badly, Chavala. The world, the war … they’ll have to wait. Tomorrow we go away for a few days.”

  “Yes, Dovid, but are you
well enough to travel?”

  “With you … you should forgive the flowery language … to the ends of the earth. Far enough?”

  The next morning Dovid helped Chavala into the black carriage, took up the reins and they rode high up into the hills of Haifa.

  The Moorish inn Dovid had chosen had once housed the harem of an Arab prince, but was now owned by a Sephardic Jew. Royalty to royalty, Dovid thought, and smiled to himself.

  Chavala had no sooner stepped over the threshold than the place evoked visions of twirling dancing girls. Shutting her eyes, she could almost hear the tinkling sounds of the small gold bells they wore around their ankles as their exotic eyes peered out above the transparent veils.

  From the balcony of their rooms they could see the golden dome of the Bahai shrine and the magnificent gardens that surrounded it. Beyond lay the breathtaking view of the city and its harbor, across which was the bay and the old city of Acre and the mountains of Galilee. Mount Hermon rose majestically with its snowcapped crown.

  And then they lay down in the canopied bed, and exchanged the joyous release of their love and gratitude. They lay together, as one, in a kind of sweet exaltation … Afterward they still clung to one another, each wishing that they could shut out the world forever. That this moment would be the rest of their lives…

  “Dovid, I wish there were no war, that we could go back to the way it was—but I know, that’s foolish …”

  Of course he longed for the same things that she did, but to dwell on them now would only make things more painful when this idyll had to end. “We must take our pleasure where we can, Chavala … one day this will be over … and you and I and Reuven…”

  Hard as she’d tried not to dwell on the day she left little Reuven and Chia with Raizel, it was impossible not to hear her son’s voice once again saying … “Take me with you to see abba, please …” but how could she do that? When Sarah had come to Jerusalem to bring her back to Zichron she was all too aware that she might not even see Dovid alive again. She wanted to spare their son that cruel disappointment … Once again she could hear Sarah’s words … “Absalom and Dovid are in prison and might—” Chavala refused to recall the rest. Quickly she turned her body toward her husband and gave herself to him as deeply, as fully as she knew how….

  Chavala knew it would be a very long time until they could know such enchantment again. The four fleeting days had spent themselves, and now Dovid was taking Chavala back to Jerusalem.

  When they arrived at their home Dovid found Reuven quietly reading. This was his child, and while little Chia especially and the others were terribly close to him, Reuven was different. He was of his flesh and Chavala’s. In the war-torn world that he moved in, this was a central, unifying fact for his life. Above all else it made his life seem important, justified going through anything to survive.

  When the boy saw him, he didn’t immediately run to him, arms outstretched. The boy, understandably, was shy, as though uncertain whether this still-gaunt man was really his father. And, Dovid thought, in a way he was quite right … he was not the same man who had left Jerusalem. Nobody went through the imminence of death twice, never mind the ravages to the body, and came out the same person. God, was there a scent of death around him now? Did it walk with him? He hoped not, hoped, instead, that it was more an aura of survival, a will to survive and outlast all the death that the Turks and Germans could try to inflict. After all, they were only the latest in a long line that had tried to extinguish the Jews from the earth. Nobody had quite managed yet. Dovid meant to try very hard to keep up their record of flawed success.

  He went slowly up to the boy, just stood there a moment, then reached down and tousled his hair. And then, only then, did the boy get up, and slowly, tentatively and then like he was gripping life itself, put his arms around his father’s waist and squeezed very hard. “I’m glad to see you, abba. I was worried. Ema went off so suddenly—”

  “I know, I know, Reuven. Well, you see, the worry was for nothing. Here I am and here she is, and now we’ll have a wonderful time together and talk and play and pretty soon we’ll all be together again and I won’t have to go away…”

  There were tears in the boy’s eyes as he tried to act older than he felt, to be manly. He understood well enough that his father might never come back when he left again, understood better than his parents could know. So for the rest of that day and the next they lived together as if they had never been apart, as if they would never again need to separate. Each knew the truth, each, including Reuven, played his role. And when Dovid had to leave, to face them both, the tears did not flow. The love they shared was their bond, their very special hold on life, and each would make the most of it not only for himself but for the others…

  When Dovid returned to Zichron, Aaron’s caretaker told him that he was to go to Athlit.

  The lights burned dim beyond the windows of Aaron’s laboratory. Quickly Dovid mounted the stairs and found Aaron sitting at the long table with Absalom, Sarah, and the rest of the men of NILI.

  Aaron’s face was drawn, his eyes could not conceal his anxiety. “Dovid … I’m glad you’re back. Sit down.”

  Dovid joined the rest.

  Aaron began: “The contact has been broken. No signals, nothing. We have no way of knowing why.” He pounded the table with his fist “And here we wait, night after night. With maps and plans and vital information hidden away in a vault beneath the floor. With all we’ve amassed, the British could have been close to Damascus by now.”

  “I’ll go, Aaron,” Absalom said quickly.

  “No, we can’t risk you being arrested again. I have other plans for you.”

  “I know that I could make it, Aaron. There is an old Arab who has a fishing boat, I’ve spoken to him and he’s willing. I could swim out beyond the rocks at Caesarea, where he would pick me up—”

  “Remember the last time we tried that. Joseph Lieberman was never heard from again. With all respect to Joseph, your work here is too valuable to risk. The tides are unpredictable. No, there is only one option …I must get to Alexandria myself.”

  Dovid said, “Your absence, as you know, would cause suspicion. The whole Yishuv would be in danger, Hashomer would be down on us. Besides, how would you get there?”

  “There’s a scientific meeting in Berlin. With Jamal Pasha’s lust for production, I should have little problem convincing him of the importance of my being sent to Berlin.”

  “Then what? How does that get you to Egypt?” Absalom put in.

  “I’m getting to that.” Absalom was always in such a big hurry. “From Berlin I’ll attend a scientific conference in Vienna. Then, somehow, I’ll find a way to get to England.”

  Sarah seemed puzzled. “Why London, Aaron? Wouldn’t it be possible, if you do make a connection, to go on directly to Alexandria?”

  “It’s my feeling that my best chance of getting to Alexandria is with the British … on one of their ships. Well, at least it should be safer than a rowboat … or trying to disguise myself as an Arab. I’ve neither the taste nor talent for that … While I’m gone you, Sarah, Dovid and Absalom, will be in command. And of course all of you will continue on as though I were still here. Nothing will be changed in my absence.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  IN BERLIN AARON BECAME reacquainted with an American scientist who had been sent under the auspices of the United States Department of Agriculture.

  Since he had worked with Jerome Harris years back on a sponsoring committee, Aaron felt he had an ally. But how to approach Harris and enlist his help was another matter.

  That evening Jerome Harris dined as Aaron Aaronson’s guest at the finest restaurant in Berlin.

  After a bottle of Rhine wine, which Aaron detested, Aaron explained the importance of his getting to London. Harris was not overly inquisitive; he felt the desire to help his fellow scientist. Besides, he liked this landsman from another culture.

  He slipped Aaron into his own stateroom aboard
the ship returning him to America.

  Once aboard, it was not difficult to get off a cable, with Harris’s help, to London.

  With the British now alerted, the American vessel was halted on the pretext of a routine inspection. In the process Aaronson was taken off and delivered to London.

  In London he was taken to intelligence headquarters, where he proceeded to offer all the information about the work that had been done behind Turkish lines.

  The British, impressed, wasted no time in sending him to Alexandria.

  Aaron had been gone since July. It was now September. Waiting, worrying was nerve-wracking for those left behind at Athlit. Further, as Aaron had told them, they’d kept up their espionage activities and escalated them, so that the men were exhausted.

  Sarah said to Dovid and Absalom, “Do you think perhaps we should give the men a little break?”

  “Obviously the coast will still have to be watched for any signals, but I agree,” Dovid said. As did Absalom.

  Dovid was especially grateful for the lull. It was an opportunity to see Chavala and his son, whom he hadn’t seen for so long.

  As Dovid rode up into the hills toward Jerusalem a shocking thought occurred to him. In a sense … well, he hadn’t missed her … There just was so little time to be lonely … it had nothing to do with his loving Chavala as always, but the intense preoccupation with his activities was so all-consuming that emergency squeezed out memory. One needed all one’s thoughts on the job of the moment … or one didn’t have an opportunity for any further thought—or breath.

  Still, he had a vague sense of guilt about it, and could only hope that Chavala understood the long lapses in communication. She had to …

  But, in spite of trying, Chavala did not really understand. Or at least could not really accept. With all of Dovid’s apparent ability to roam about the country, he seemed to avoid coming to Jerusalem. He even seemed to have forgotten those four glorious days they had spent together in the hills of Haifa. Chavala remembered every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. Did Dovid … ? The long letters she’d received at the beginning of their separation had, if she received anything, become brief notes …”I hope you’re no longer so lonely” … “It makes my job so much easier knowing you have Raizel with you, and kiss little Chia for me” … “I’ll bring Reuven some new seeds” … “Stay well”…