by Amalie Coles
“Why do you care so much?”
There was a prolonged pause. “Do you really want to know the truth?”
“Yes, I do. Tell me.”
“Because I love you.” He looked directly at me.
“What? OK, please tell me it’s not true.” This was more than I could possibly handle.
“You said you wanted to know the truth.”
“I don’t believe you, Avi. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a week.”
“Rebecca, how long do you need to know someone to realize you love them?”
“I don’t know. A few dates maybe? Anyway, what you’re telling me isn’t true. You can’t—”
Before I could continue, Avi cut me off. “It’s true, Rebecca. I’ve been feeling this way since we met in the Common Room.”
I was in shock. I’d never imagined Avi as more than a friend. Neither did I expect that he would be serious about asking me out the other day. Yet he loved me enough to save my life.
“There’s another thing I don’t understand,” I continued. “Why all the commotion around me? The headlines, the visit from the Prime Minister! I mean, I simply had a car accident. Hundreds of people get into accidents every day. None of them become famous overnight.”
“Not everyone becomes a target of a terrorist group,” Avi replied.
“What are you talking about?” I felt puzzled and horrified at once.
“Didn’t you know?”
“Is there something else I don’t know?”
“Looks like it’s the case.”
“You have to tell me.”
“Let’s sit down first. You must be tired by now.” He took my hand and led me towards a bench that was located under a tall, green tree.
“The night you got into a crash, they caught a terrorist group from Gaza. It’s an independent group loosely linked to Hamas. It’s small now, but it’s slowly attracting followers.”
“Scary.”
“Rebecca, ‘scary’ isn’t even the right word. We’re talking about some of the world’s most dangerous people. They sneaked into Israeli territory through one of the tunnels Hamas had been building over the past few years. During a court hearing, one of them confessed a planned kidnapping.”
“I still don’t understand how all of this is related to my accident.”
“Don’t you realize it could’ve been you? You were driving very close to the place where they were planning their operation. I hate to say this, but if your car hadn’t been stopped where it did, you would’ve probably become their target.”
Now I was remembering a few links to articles about a native of Toronto, who had escaped a terrorist plot. I didn’t pay too much attention to them, because I couldn’t fathom these articles were about me. I wasn’t even born in Toronto, for goodness’ sake.
“But they could’ve kidnapped anyone else.” I was still unconvinced.
“Well, when the investigators and the media people did the math, they figured that, out of all people, you had the highest chance of becoming the victim. I mean, who else would have been roaming around the south during such hour?”
“My husband was looking for me at the time. It could’ve been him as well.”
“Where was he when you last talked?”
“He was in Ashkelon.”
“He was too far away to become the target. The terrorists were hanging around the highway entrance to Sderot, waiting for their target to show up. Thanks to the ambulance and the police that arrived at your scene, the gang got caught on time.”
I listened carefully, my mouth gaping. The information was too much for me to process. Avi was in love with me. I had nearly become a victim of a terrorist plot. I wouldn’t be surprised if snow suddenly started falling from the sky.
“By the way, all tunnels officially have been destroyed,” Avi added. “We have nothing to worry about now.”
“Good to know.”
He moved closer and put one hand over my shoulder. “Becky, I know you’re overwhelmed and—”
“Please go away,” I said, without letting him finish.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out about the transfusion, but my brother blabbed.”
“Go away!” I snarled. “I don’t want to see you again.”
Avi got up and walked back to the building, while I continued sitting on the bench, crying, oblivious to the afternoon heat and the life happening around me.
A group of children passed me by. Among them was a pretty girl walking with her mother. Seeing her innocent face flanked by curly hair made me feel sad about the fact that I would never have a child of my own. However, I was now determined not to bring another life into this world more than ever.
“Look, this is Rebecca from the TV,” she exclaimed in Hebrew.
“Ken, Rivkush,” her mother replied. “Want to say ‘hi’ to her?”
“Yes! I could practice my English with her.” The girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
Before they had a chance to approach me, I got up from my bench and ran back to the hospital building. Any conversations would have to wait till later.
I spent the rest of the day mulling over everything that was happening in my life. I tried imagining all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to me if that ibex hadn’t appeared on the road. Political tortures, humiliations, a failed ransom deal with the Canadian government, and ultimately a very painful death—all of this could’ve easily become my reality. Not only was I alive and relatively well, but I also had a myriad of opportunities ahead of me. However, nothing felt right anymore.
I still missed Jason. Out of all the men I had known, he was the only one who was making me feel at home. If I could’ve gone back in time, I would’ve never let George or Avi come near me. I needed to talk to him and let him know how I was feeling. If he decided to go separate ways, so be it. A tiny part of me hoped that we would get back together.
Chapter 28
“Do you know where Jason is?” I asked my parents next day.
“You want to see him after everything he put you through?” Erin asked angrily.
“I agree,” my father said. “He’s lucky I don’t have a gun with me.”
“Dad!”
“Wait,” my mother interjected. “I think they should have a talk.”
“See?” I turned to Erin.
“Everything turned out this way because of their fight,” my sister added. “I bet he said a lot of mean things to you, Becky.”
“Erin, we didn’t even have a chance to fight. I have to talk to my husband, and you better tell me how I can find him.”
“All right, we’ll tell you,” my father said. “Up until yesterday, he was here waiting for the news. He was mostly walking around the corridor looking like a zombie.”
“Which only tells me that he cares.”
“From now on, he’s staying in a hotel,” he continued.
“We can call him if you wish,” my mother suggested.
“Please do so. I really need to see him.”
After I waited for what seemed like forever, nobody showed up. Although it was already getting a bit late, I kept hoping that Jason was on his way. Tired of staying in bed, I got up and walked around the room. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a bathroom mirror and realized how terrible I looked. I was wearing the same hospital gown since waking up. My tan had already evaporated, and my hair was no longer shiny. I couldn’t believe I had allowed the media people see me in this condition.
When I returned to my room, I found Mom sitting on my bed.
“Did you see him?” I asked, my heart jumping with hope.
“He’s not coming back.” She shook her head.
“Did you talk to him?”
“I think he flew back to Toronto.”
“What makes you think so?” I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
“We tried getting hold of him at the hotel but couldn’t find any trace of him. When we asked for Jason Smith, the concierge
said he had been gone since yesterday.”
“Are you sure he’s in Toronto? What if he simply decided to switch to another hotel?”
“When the concierge got distracted by a newly arrived couple, we took a peek into his request book for airport shuttles and found Jason’s name there. He flew back, Becky.”
I was crushed. Anything I would say to him from now on wouldn’t matter. Jason had already moved on. He was probably already at our old home looking for a divorce lawyer.
“Becky, I really hoped you two would get back together, but there is little we can do.”
“That’s all right, Mom.” I sighed. “I’ve made mistakes, too.”
“Erin told me about George.”
“Did she?” I felt myself blush.
“I wish you had spoken to me before.”
“I couldn’t. You would’ve judged me.” I started blinking fast to prevent tears from falling down.
“Maybe you don’t know me well.” She smiled. “Those things happen. It’s just in the laws of nature.”
“The weirdest thing is that even after I fell for George, I’ve never stopped loving Jason. I thought true love was about forsaking all others in the name of one person.”
“All of us think this way when we are young. Life can become more complicated than you wish.”
“Mom, I’m sorry for causing you and Dad all this anguish. I never intended my trip to end this way. I just had to come here. It’s where I belong. You won’t understand.”
“No, Becky! You are wrong again. I do understand.” She hugged me.
“Is it true?” I looked directly into those warm eyes.
“Yes. I went through something similar when I was younger.”
“Really? Please tell me.”
“When I was little, your grandfather used to travel a lot. Sometimes, he would bring small boxes of rocks and minerals from his expeditions.”
I had faint memories my grandfather, Brandon Cadwell, a famous geologist. He used to spend months in Alberta doing research. Unfortunately, he died when I was still a preschooler, so I didn’t remember much about him.
“At some point, I became obsessed with rocks. I wanted to know more about them, from their composition to opacity. I started asking my father a lot of questions. My parents freaked out, thinking that I would grow up to become a geologist and never get married or have kids. Anything remotely related to this field became forbidden. ‘Geology is not for girls,’ your grandma would tell me.”
“How awful!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t imagine archaeology becoming banned in our house. It was hard enough that I had to listen to Eyal Golan in headphones or else my sister would barge into my room and demand that I “turn this shit down.”
“I continued sneaking into my father’s room and playing with rocks whenever he wasn’t around. As I grew older, I started going into my school’s library and reading books about mountains and volcanoes. It was a secret I kept during my teen years.”
“Did your classmates ever think you were weird?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. They would’ve made fun of me.”
“I see.”
“Then I met your father and fell in love for the first time. He knew all about my quirky passion and even promised to take me to the Rockies some day. Since we were very young—I was only seventeen and he was nineteen—we wanted to wait a few years before getting married. We had plans to finish universities and travel the world first. Anthony was already in a culinary school, commuting hundreds of kilometers every day, while I was planning to major in environmental sciences either at Western or York. He and I were thinking about having a long-distance relationship.”
“So what made you change your mind?”
“I learned that my father had a terminal illness and was unlikely to live past a year, two maximum.”
“That’s horrible!”
“No one ever told me in person. I overheard my parents’ conversation by accident and learned about his desire to see me married with kids before he would die. He told my mother how much he was yearning to hold a baby for the last time. I ran away before they saw me crying. That day, I found Anthony in a park and told him everything. He immediately proposed, and we got married shortly after my eighteenth birthday.”
I gasped. I had always romanticized my parents’ young marriage and believed it would become a blueprint for mine. Never could I imagine that it had been founded on broken dreams and shattered hopes.
“Erin was our honeymoon baby,” my mother continued. “The day she was born, my parents were overjoyed. It was then when my father had told me about his fatal disease in person and thanked me for granting him the very last wish. I smiled and said, ‘Dad, I already know.’ He lived way longer than the doctors had expected and was even lucky enough to see you turn five.”
I smiled recalling snippets of that usually-warm day in late September, with sun shining brightly on our backyard and him showing up at the kids’ party, looking usually thin and sad. I even remembered his words he told me in person: “Be happy.”
“He died on the next Christmas Eve in his sleep. Nobody knows what happened to him.”
“It was such a sad holiday season!” My memory trailed back to the ickiest December ever.
The rain kept falling for the entire month, and many even began to give up their hopes for a proper white Christmas. Nevertheless, our family was determined to make the best of this time. My parents made the best roasted turkey I could ever remember. The apple cider and the Yule log were even better.
Erin and I were opening our presents when the phone rang. Then our father announced that we had to get ready and leave. When Erin asked what was happening, he didn’t say anything. Our mother quickly helped us dress up, and we were soon off to the emergency room. There I saw my grandfather for the last time. He was lying on a bed, motionless, pale, but with a very peaceful smile on his face. The doctors tried to revive his heart but were unsuccessful. In a few hours, he was pronounced dead.
Needless to say, the holidays came to a halt. My mother spent most of the season together with my grandmother arranging for the funeral. When she wasn’t busy, she was mostly by herself, most likely crying, although we never knew for sure.
“So you were forced to put dreams on hold for us,” I remarked grimly.
“Please don’t get me wrong, Becky. You and your sister are the best thing in my life. I wouldn’t have done anything differently if I could go back. But sometimes, when I was too caught up with housework, I felt that something was missing from my life. So I began to look for opportunities to read. Whenever I was nursing or one of you was napping, I would pick a random book and start reading. Then I began to collect books. Friends and relatives would donate me books on everything, from fantasy to romance. I just had to keep on reading to prevent my mind from going stale.”
“At some point, our house had so many books that we had to do something about them. Anthony and I decided to organize a garage sale. The event was very successful, and by the end of the day, I came up with an idea to open a bookstore. Your father was initially unsure about it, but we decided to give it a try. Soon enough, I had a full-blown business that was providing us with food and a roof over our heads.”
“And you felt happier then, right?”
“Much happier, darling. Although I had to close it down eventually, this business lasted for more than a decade, providing me with a sense of satisfaction every day. I think the real reason why your father and I made it this far was because both of us had something we enjoyed doing. He owned a restaurant, while I ran a bookstore.”
“I still don’t know why he was forced to close it,” I admitted.
“Me neither. It was such a great place to be.”
I kept quiet.
“Anyway, let’s not dwell on the past. The reason I told you all of this was to let you know that I’d been in your shoes. So I do understand how you feel about archaeology.”
“You were fascinated with volcanoes, ri
ght?”
“Yes, I was. When you declared you were going to Ashkelon, I recognized my younger self in you.”
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“Rebecca, I’m all up for you and Jason to stay together. But no matter what happens, you have to put yourself first. I don’t want you to have the same regrets that I had. That’s why I always encouraged you and Erin to get your degrees first and to settle down later.”
“So you do support my choice to go to a grad school?”
“Completely.”
“Thank you, Mom. It means so much to me!” We shared a heartfelt embrace.
“Goodnight, darling.”
After she left, I lay down my bed staring into the wall, my mind trailing back to the conversation I had had with my grandmother in her kitchen. She too never had her hopes materialized. Did broken dreams run in my family? If so, I had to find the means to break this cycle.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Please come in,” I said, yawning.
Erin walked inside. In her sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt, she looked totally different from the Erin I knew. Just like my mother, she was pale and wore almost no makeup.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I came to ask you the same question.”
“I’m a bit better now,” I admitted.
“Did you talk to Mom?”
“Yes, and we had a very meaningful conversation.”
“Did she tell why she and Dad got married so young?”
“You know the truth?” I couldn’t believe my sister knew something about my parents that I didn’t.
“Of course I do! She told me the story many years ago. I’m surprised she held it off from you for so long.”
“How did you feel about the revelation?”
“I was angry. With everyone. With Mom for sacrificing everything to have us. With Grandpa for forcing her to give up her dreams and have babies.”
“Erin, you can’t be angry with a dying man! Besides, our grandparents would have never pressured her into anything. She simply overheard their conversation and made her decision.”
“I couldn’t help myself, Becky. I just hated the whole situation. Most of all, I was angry at myself.”