My Journey

by Amalie Coles

  “Jason, do you ever feel bored with me?” I asked while checking out a Bedouin necklace. What if he was feeling the same way about my lack of interest in his hobbies? Perhaps he too longed to discuss computers or business affairs with someone.

  “What do you mean, Becky?” He looked surprised.

  “We are so different! You are into business and informatics, and I’m into archaeology. Does it ever bother you?”

  “Of course not!” he exclaimed. “No two people can be the same.”

  “So you don’t think I’m boring?”

  “Becky, I think you are fascinating! With you, I get to learn something new every day.” He looked directly into my eyes, making me feel a bit relieved. “Please don’t have these thoughts. You are the best thing I have in my life.”

  Once again, I became plagued by guilt. I tried my best to push the feeling aside and to enjoy the sunny walk through Jerusalem, but that nagging sensation in my chest refused to leave me alone. I felt like a total hypocrite at the Western Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I couldn’t pray or think about anything spiritual. So I kept walking around and snapping photos of lamps and Byzantine mosaics for the hundredth time.

  Just as we were about to enter the sacred vault, the security officers appeared out of nowhere and urged everyone to leave the church. Apparently, someone had left a bag inside, which meant that the entire building had to be evacuated. As we walked away, I could only hope that the bag didn’t have a bomb, and if it did, the security would have enough time to disarm it. I couldn’t imagine this beautiful place sharing its fate with St. Jonah’s Tomb.

  “Want to check out the Jewish Quarter?” I suggested later. It was the only place George and I didn’t get to see.

  “Sure,” Jason replied.

  The Cardo had a chain of jewellery shops and small boutiques selling artwork. As soon as I walked inside an art shop, my mood improved. Even though I had never owned a professional painting, I loved window shopping for art. As we were checking out the paintings, I became particularly drawn to one of a tuxedo cat, the live version of which was idling around. A few pictures of Jerusalem’s panorama also caught my eye. We later found a few shops selling Dead Sea products, where I finally bought a present for Erin.

  “I haven’t had pizza for ages,” I declared at the end of the walk through the Cardo.

  “I wouldn’t mind pizza either, especially if it has some pepperoni and mushrooms.”

  We found a small pizzeria in the Jewish Quarter, but, to our disappointment, there was no pepperoni option available. I had completely forgotten that kosher food precluded mixing dairy and meat. It was the main reason why all my Israeli breakfasts had been strictly vegetarian. We decided go for pizza regardless, and to our pleasant surprise, it tasted good.

  “Do you want to go home afterwards?” Jason asked, looking at his watch. It was already three-thirty, and in a few hours, the traffic would become impossibly heavy.

  “Sure. I kind of feel tired.”

  Having left a sizable tip to the owner, we went back to the Mamilla Mall, where our car was waiting for us.

  The journey home wasn’t a smooth one. In spite our attempt to leave and arrive earlier, we still got stuck in a huge traffic jam. Halfway through the traffic, we saw a group of soldiers stop cars and interrogate drivers. One of them fired a gun into the air, making me feel a bit uneasy. Although these kids in uniforms were unlikely to harm us, I could tell something wasn’t quite right.

  We turned on the radio in hopes of finding more information, but all we could hear was a few announcements about upcoming shows in Caesarea and Eilat. The announcement was followed by a lengthy chain of Middle Eastern songs and later by the news hour. I was beyond relieved to learn that nothing bad happened to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

  Two hours later, the traffic finally cleared up, and we were able to reach Tel Aviv. We ran into Svetlana and Roman at the entrance to our apartment.

  “Hey, neshama, ma kapara!” Roman offered me a friendly hug. They were really pleased to meet Jason and to hear about our journey to Jerusalem.

  “Did you know there was a siren in Tel Aviv today?” Svetlana asked in her semi-broken English.

  “What?” I couldn’t believe I had missed it during the news hour.

  “Yes, the siren went off again,” Roman repeated after his wife. “We had to run to the basement.” Jason’s expression changed from relaxed to grim.

  “Do you mind showing us the bomb shelter?” I asked.

  “Definitely!” Svetlana pointed at a small door leading downstairs. I was surprised I didn’t notice it before.

  “Maybe we’ll see you tonight,” Jason said.

  “Would you like to come over to our place?” she asked me in Hebrew. “I have borscht.”

  “Oh, no, thanks. I’m making a meal myself.”

  “What is it?” Jason asked, trying to understand our conversation.

  “Nothing,” I explained. “They just wanted to invite us over, but I’m planning to make dinner tonight. Maybe another time.”

  “What a lucky man you are!” Roman told Jason.

  “I know,” Jason said with a smile.

  “Well, I’ll see you another time,” Svetlana said.

  “Have a good night,” I told them, and they quickly disappeared from our view.

  “What a lovely couple!” I exclaimed as soon as we were inside the unit.

  “Yeah, they are nice, but I found them a bit intrusive.”

  “I disagree. In fact, it was I who intruded into their space.”

  Jason laughed.

  “And they cook amazing dishes,” I added. “That breakfast they served was truly awesome.”

  “Anyway, tomorrow is a beach day,” Jason announced. “I need a break from all the sightseeing.”

  “Really? Wasn’t it you who suggested visiting the Old City?” I said, half laughing.

  “So what?”

  “We only spent half a day doing it.”

  “That was more than enough. The heat is just ridiculous!”

  “You won’t believe how hot it was in Eilat, or how much walking we did during our mini tour in the Golan Heights.”

  “Then you might need a little rest as well. You can’t be constantly up and running.”

  “I agree. Nevertheless, I did enjoy all our day trips.”

  “Now, you’ll enjoy some beach time.”

  “Want to get some groceries?” I suggested, determined to make something extra special for dinner.

  “Definitely.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  At the grocery store, we stocked our bags with fruits, vegetables, dairies, and meat. We also stopped by the liquor section and picked a bottle of wine and a few beer cans.

  “Next time, we are driving here,” I declared halfway through our walk home. Both of us were carrying heavy loads in our hands.

  “We’ll be home very soon,” Jason reassured me. “But if you are tired, I can bring the car over here.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll just walk.” I picked up my pace.

  “You don’t have to cook today if you don’t feel like it,” he said when we were already at the door. “We can go out today. We have an entire week left.”

  “I want to make you happy.”

  “Rebecca, you are amazing!” he exclaimed. “I missed your meals so much!”

  “That’s why I’m cooking tonight.” I winked.

  Having unpacked the groceries, I immediately put on an apron and started working. I was planning to make a steak that Jason loved. So I seasoned a piece of raw meat with salt, pepper, and mushrooms, and added some vinegar. While it was grilling, I carefully peeled potatoes and placed them in a large saucepan. An hour later, we were having mashed potatoes with a steak and a Greek salad.

  “Cheers.” Jason raised a glass of wine.

  “To us!” I said in return.

  Chapter 24

  “Becky, is everything all right?” Jason asked me as we walke
d back from the beach the next day. Although I kept pretending to be happy, I couldn’t let go of the heaviness that was weighing down on my chest.

  “Yes, I’m OK,” I replied, fighting back my tears. Last night, we had finally managed to become intimate, but the whole experience was terrible. The more he tried to get closer to me, the more distant I felt. Ever since he had gotten here, I kept wondering if an invisible wall had been planted between us.

  “You haven’t been acting yourself lately. I can tell something is wrong.”

  “Maybe I’m just wary of the war threat,” I lied.

  “I can imagine. It’s a bit hard to relax when your favourite vacation spot is in the headlines every day.”

  I would have broken down right at this moment if it weren’t for Shlomo, the guy from Ashkelon, standing at a small booth and selling fresh juice.

  “Shlomo! Good to see you!” I was a bit surprised to find him there.

  “Rebecca! Ma nishma?”

  “Ani beseder, toda. This is Jason, my husband. This is Shlomo. We met in Ashkelon.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Jason offered him a handshake.

  “So what brings you to Tel Aviv?” I asked.

  “Well, with the war, it became impossible for me to run my business in the south. Plus, our house came under direct fire, and we had to be evacuated. That’s why I’m here now.”

  I gasped. Indeed, it was his house I’d seen in the news way back at the Albright Institute. He must’ve been exiled from his home for quite a while.

  “How are you coping?” It occurred to me that all my problems were trivial compared to his.

  “It hasn’t been easy. Our house was renovated just before the war started, and now we’ll have to redo everything when we come back. My wife’s really upset over the whole thing. Our kids want to go home. But what can I do? C’est la vie!”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  “At a friend’s place. It’s a bit small for two families, but it’ll be all right.”

  “Well, I really hope it ends soon.”

  “Me too.”

  “It was nice seeing you again.”

  “Would you like something?”

  I looked at Jason, who just threw away his finished cup of apple juice.

  “Let’s go for it,” he said.

  “I’ll have an orange juice,” I said. “How about you, Jason?”

  “The same,” he replied.

  At the end of the day, I made a decision to talk to my husband. The sooner I let the words out, the better it would be for both of us. I wasn’t sure how much I would tell him, but at least, I would try explaining the confusion about my career. Jason would surely understand. He had known about my fascination with archaeology for quite a while.

  For dinner, I heated the leftover steak and the purée from last night and cut some fresh tomatoes. I also poured us two glasses of wine.

  “Jason, there is something I need to tell you,” I began after we sat down for a meal.

  “Sure,” he replied, completely oblivious to what I was going to confess.

  “I...I don’t know where to start.” My nerves started giving way.

  “Just tell me what it is.” He looked up from his plate, smiling.

  “My stay in Israel made me realize how unhappy I am with my current job.”

  “I’ve known that for a while. It’s very hard not to notice.”

  “You know that, right?”

  “Of course I do. After all, you’d spent four years studying something you’re not using. Anyone would be unhappy in your shoes.”

  “Right.” I gulped.

  “But you don’t have to stay in your job forever,” he continued. “I’m sure something great will turn up after you finish your copywriting program.”

  “The problem is, I don’t want to hold a nine-to-five job anymore. It’s just not for me. I need something bigger.”

  “What is it that you want?”

  “I want to go to a grad school.”

  “OK.” He looked a bit baffled.

  “It could involve moving around.”

  “Like where?”

  “The States, Israel, wherever new opportunities arise.”

  “Hmm, that would be a bit challenging.”

  “I know. That’s why it bothers me so much. I also know how much you want us to have kids.”

  He got up and walked towards me. “Look, we can come up with something. We can hold off having kids for a while, and you can apply to schools in Canada. It’s not the end of the world, Rebecca.”

  “We can try.” I sighed. So now he was accepting my new plan as long as it didn’t involve moving around. That was some progress.

  “Is it why you were a bit sad today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry. We can make it happen. First, you need to send applications. The rest we’ll figure out.” He took my face in his hands—the gesture I’ve always loved getting from him.

  “There is another thing I need to tell you. I know you’ll be mad.” I gently moved his right hand away.

  “Nothing can make me mad, love.”

  For a second, I considered salvaging the situation by changing the topic or turning on the TV. Perhaps I could even suggest going out for another drink or hitting a dance club. And yet I knew there was no backing out.

  “There is this guy named George. I met him back in Ashkelon.”

  “OK.”

  “He is a Ph.D. student from Wheaton College. We first started as friends who had a lot in common. We talked about archeology and academic life. We rode buses and ran to bomb shelters together. Then we both ended up working at the Albright Institute. It was completely unplanned.”

  By the time I finished my speech, I was hyperventilating. I looked up at Jason, trying to find traces of jealousy on his face. His expression was blank.

  “When I said we went for a walk to the Old City as a group, I lied. It was only me and George.”

  “Why did you do that? Why would you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t want you to get mad. I...I kissed him during that walk. It was a terrible mistake, and I promise it will never happen again.”

  Jason kept quiet. He probably didn’t see it coming.

  “Please say something!” I exclaimed in panic.

  “And you brought me all the way here to tell me this?” He stared at me with that blank expression that showed both sadness and a bit of anger.

  “Look, I’m really sorry. It’s not what you think. I...I’m just confused about my life...and about us.”

  He stayed silent. Maybe Erin was right, and I shouldn’t have said anything to him.

  “Is there anything else I need to know?” he asked coldly.

  “I often feel like I’ve missed out on a lot of things in my early twenties. You know I always wanted to travel and to live somewhere else besides Canada. I don’t want you to think that I wasn’t happy with you. I just...I just...I’m so confused. I don’t even know if I can handle it anymore.” I started crying.

  Looking utterly defeated, Jason moved to the couch. I sat next to him and took his hand.

  “I still love you, though, and I really want us to work it out.”

  “Goodnight, Rebecca.” He bolted up and hurried towards the small room. I heard the door slam behind him. Tears rising in my eyes, I went back to the dining table and quietly cleared our plates of unfinished food.

  I wanted to talk longer. I would’ve preferred that we have a proper fight, throw things around, and call each other names. At least I would know what was going through his mind. I wondered if there was a tiny chance he would forgive me, but I wouldn’t know until we spoke again. For the rest of the evening, I lay down on a large, empty bed and stared into space unable to believe our marriage had arrived at this point.

  I recalled all the happy moments Jason and I had shared together, from our first walk in a park to our first renovation project. I recalled the morning before our wedding, when I was standing in front of
a mirror in a beautiful white dress, full of hopes, while Mom and Erin were fixing my hair and makeup.

  I couldn’t say I had no reservations about marrying so early in my life. The spring of that year, our archaeology team from the U of T was planning a trip to Syria, and I was invited along. Since the excavation was to happen in April and my wedding was in June, I could have easily gone. Caught up with the romance and the wedding preparations, I refused.

  Half into the excavation season, I began to doubt my decision to stay in Toronto. Then I started doubting my decision to commit so fast. The doubts weren’t too strong, considering how happy I was feeling, but they were still present. A year later, I learned this opportunity was gone forever along with many others. Maybe if I’d listened to those pesky voices in my head, Jason and I would be in a happier place.

  Chapter 25

  By midnight, it became clear to me that I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Although I was no longer crying, the adrenaline was still pumping in my veins. I tiptoed to Jason’s room and peeked in. He was lying quietly on the first level of the double bed, eyes closed.

  “Go away,” he mumbled, without even looking at me.

  I put on the first thing I found in the closet, which was the same beaded orange dress I had worn to the beach the morning before leaving Ashkelon. Back then, I was still happy and carefree, even with the missile threat looming. I grabbed the car keys from the living room table and left.

  Our Ford was parked outside in a reserved spot. I quickly unlocked it and got behind the wheel. As soon as I started the ignition, the GPS turned itself on and asked me where I wanted to go. Without even thinking twice, I typed “Dan Gardens Hotel, Ashkelon.”

  The streets were still buzzing with nightlife, but the traffic was relatively light. I drove around the city for a bit until I finally exited into the highway. I had never driven in a foreign country alone. In fact, I hardly ever drove in Toronto. Doing something different for the very first time felt strangely liberating. Moreover, reaching my destination was unbelievably easy. I simply followed the directions and let the highway signs take me to the place. If only everything else in life was that simple!