Yanis returned with a bottle of citrus-flavored beverage. Rahal removed the top and took a long drink.
“Yanis,” he said, “what does the Qur’an teach about rocks, trees, and Jews?”
The boy stood up straighter. “Judgment Day will not come before the Muslims fight the Jews. The Jews will hide behind the rocks and the trees, but the rocks and the trees will say: ‘Oh Muslim, oh servant of Allah, there is a Jew behind me, come and kill him.’”
Rahal looked at Khalil. “You’re a Hafiz. Did he quote it correctly?”
“Yes.”
Rahal spoke to Yanis. “Do you still have the gold coin I gave you for learning the names of all the prophet’s bows?”
“Yes, sir. I keep it in a special place in my room.”
“Have your father bring you up to my office when we return to Doha, and I will give you another one to be its friend.”
* * *
Hana found Daud sitting alone in the small courtyard at the rear of the house. He had his back to her with his head bowed. She opened the door, which caused him to jump up and turn around.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, walking over to put her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Were you able to rest?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Hana didn’t tell him about the ongoing shaking that had dragged her to the brink of emotional exhaustion. Instead, she told him about the promises that flooded her soul when she cried out for help.
“That’s good,” Daud replied when she finished. “I tried to be calm earlier, but I’m completely tied up in knots.”
“Did you talk to Avi?”
“Yes, but I only told him that something serious happened while I was in the West Bank. He wants us to stay here, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
The door from the house opened and Avi joined them. “How do you like the guest room?” he asked Hana.
“It’s nice.”
“Then convince your hardheaded husband to accept my offer of hospitality to spend the night.”
“I’d like that,” Hana said and glanced at Daud.
“I’m not sure—” Daud started.
Avi snorted. “If you keep bringing that up, I’m going to make you explain yourself. I’m tired of hearing it. Rachel is visiting Yoni in Tel Aviv for a few days, and I know she wouldn’t mind. I have a state-of-the-art security system because I often bring home paintings from the shop. And no one except your buddy in the gray car knows you’re here. I assume he’s someone you trust.”
“Yes,” Daud answered. “Let me make a phone call, and I’ll give you an answer.”
Avi turned to leave.
“I’ll come with you,” Hana said to the art dealer. “I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“That’s an easy problem to solve. There’s also a painting I want to show you. It’s by the same artist who painted the one I gave you and Daud as a wedding gift.”
* * *
Daud waited until the door closed before placing the call to Aaron Levy.
“What are your plans?” Aaron asked.
“I’m still in Yemin Moshe.”
“I know that. I meant as far as exit strategy so I can bring my man back in.”
“Return to America within the next two days. We’re going to Talbiya for a meeting in the morning and then driving to Reineh to visit Hana’s family. But now I’m questioning whether that’s a good idea. Whoever targeted me may also be watching them.”
“We’re investigating the attack but don’t have any hard intelligence. Our people on the ground haven’t yet added anything to what you reported.”
The Shin Bet had informers embedded in the Palestinian community.
“If you stay in Jerusalem an extra day or two, keep a low profile,” Aaron continued.
“What about traveling to Galilee?”
“Don’t go.”
Daud took a deep breath. This would be hard news for Hana to receive.
* * *
Hana was snacking on cheese and crackers in the kitchen when Daud came in from the courtyard. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before speaking to Avi.
“We’d like to spend the night if the offer is still open,” he said.
“Absolutely,” the art dealer said and clapped his hands together. “And unless Hana eats a pound of cheese, I know where I want to take you for dinner. It’s a place I love, but Rachel hates. They have the best meatballs on the planet. You wouldn’t think a meatball would be a delicacy, but—”
“Do they have takeout?” Daud asked.
“No,” Avi replied, raising his eyebrows.
“I’d rather stay here.”
“Whatever!” Avi threw up his hands. “I feel like I’ve parachuted into a spy movie. You know, the kind where a secret agent stumbles into an innocent person’s house and peeks out the window every five minutes to make sure he’s not been followed.”
Hana glanced toward the window. White-and-blue curtains were held back by white ties. She prepared to get up and look out. Daud touched her hand.
“It’s not necessary,” he said. “One of my old friends sent someone to look after us.”
Hana tried to relax. She wouldn’t know what to look for anyway. And the fact that Aaron Levy had authorized someone to guard them did make her feel safer. She determined to act as normal as possible.
“Avi, show me your pantry,” she said, getting up from the table. “I’m in the mood for soup that will fill you up as much as a plateful of meatballs.”
“That’s not possible.”
“You haven’t eaten my makhlouta. We don’t have all night to soak the cracked wheat and beans, so we’ll settle for something with lentils.”
Rachel had a well-stocked pantry and lacked only carrots. While Avi went to the store, Hana enlisted Daud as her sous-chef. She cut up the onions, and he ran cold water over the lentils and rice. As they worked, Daud told her about his conversation with Aaron Levy. He paused at one point.
“What is it?” she asked, glancing up from the stove.
“Aaron doesn’t think we should travel to Reineh. He recommends we keep a low profile in Jerusalem.”
Hana pressed her lips together tightly. “The soup needs to simmer for forty-five minutes,” she said.
They worked in silence until Avi returned a few minutes later.
“Let’s go back to the courtyard,” the art dealer suggested. “It’s pleasant this time of day when the sun goes down.”
The art dealer brought along a bottle of wine and some cheese. They snacked and made small talk while waiting for the soup to simmer. For Hana, life almost seemed normal, but once when she glanced at Daud and saw him looking away in thought, she knew that nothing about their lives could ever be normal.
Later that night as they lay in bed, Hana turned so she could see out the window. Lights from houses in the neighborhood followed the contours of the Jerusalem hills.
“Are you awake?” Daud asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you think we should go to Reineh?”
“I want to, but then I’m afraid to go.”
Daud was silent for a few moments. “I guess we can wait to decide,” he said.
Hana reached out and touched Daud’s cheek. He took her hand in his and kissed it before releasing it. Hana closed her eyes. She didn’t wake up until bright morning light streamed through the window.
Chapter 35
Daud slept fitfully as images of the attack on the road kept recycling across his subconscious. It wasn’t until around 4:00 a.m. that he slipped into a level of sleep that enabled him to escape the images. After that, he didn’t stir until he sensed Hana waking up. He rolled over and stared at her. Beauty in the midst of chaos. Marrying her had changed everything in Daud’s life. He didn’t regret the work he’d done for the Shin Bet. It saved lives. But he couldn’t avoid the negative consequences that had a long shelf life. Hana sniffed and wrinkled her nose. Her eyes fluttered open. She turned
her head away from the bright sunlight entering through the bedroom window and faced him.
“What time is it?” she asked, stretching her arms.
Daud checked his watch on the nightstand. “Seven forty-five,” he said.
Hana rubbed her eyes and scooted up in the bed. “No morning sickness,” she said. “That’s good. And it’s a beautiful day.”
Daud didn’t point out that it had been beautiful each morning they’d been in Israel. “What would you like for breakfast?” he asked.
“Nothing fancy. Avi has yogurt in the refrigerator. How about you?”
“Coffee is what I need,” Daud said as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
He went downstairs in his bare feet. Avi wasn’t in the kitchen, and Daud peered out the window. He saw a white car with a man sitting behind the steering wheel parked across the street. Daud knew the guard would prefer not to be openly acknowledged. The man was looking down. He glanced up, and Daud drew back from the window.
Avi had already brewed a regular pot of coffee in a simple machine next to the espresso unit. Daud poured a large cup of black coffee.
“Good morning,” Avi said. “How did you sleep?”
The art dealer was dressed for the day in a casual gray shirt, dark pants, and black loafers.
“Not so well until early this morning,” Daud replied. “Thankfully, Hana did much better. The coffee is much appreciated.”
“You’re welcome.” Avi pointed to the window. “Is that your friend across the street?”
“I don’t know him, but he’s here to look out for us.”
Avi poured a cup of coffee for himself and sat at the kitchen table. He motioned for Daud to join him. The art dealer looked down at the table for a moment.
“Daud, I’ve only known you as a private investigator, but it’s obvious you are much more than that. I don’t want to sound sentimental; however, I want to thank you for what you’ve done for our country. And I say this as a Jew to an Arab who I suspect has sacrificed more than I have to make this a safer place to live.”
Not sure how to respond, Daud slowly nodded his head.
“I’m not fishing for information,” Avi continued. “As much as I like to tell stories, my lips are sealed about everything that has happened here during the past twenty-four hours. But I had to say something to you this morning. It’s an honor to have you and Hana in my home.”
“You honor us.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Avi said with a wave of his hand. “And while you were awake in the night, I was tossing and turning about the house in Abu Tor. Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done to make that a possibility for you and Hana? It would be a perfect place for you to live.”
“No, that’s settled,” Daud said. “The past twenty-four hours made that decision crystal clear.”
“Okay,” Avi sighed. “But you have a place to stay with us anytime you want to come to Jerusalem. I also want to give the two of you a companion to the numbered print I sent as a wedding gift.”
“No,” Daud protested. “That’s too much.”
Ignoring him, Avi left the table. He returned with an unframed painting of a young couple strolling down a Jerusalem street and holding the hands of a small boy who walked between them. The artist had painted the scene from the rear so that it was impossible to tell the nationality of the couple. Man, woman, and child had dark hair and were wearing Western clothes. The setting was a brightly lit sidewalk. Daud touched the bottom of the oil painting and felt the texture of the pigments.
“This is an original,” he said. “I can’t accept this.”
“Yes, and you will,” Avi said emphatically. “If you and Hana are forced by circumstances of your service to the country to walk away from Jerusalem, I want you to have this as a reminder that you’re still moving toward a greater light for the future.”
Daud felt a wave of emotion surge to the surface. “Thank you,” he managed.
“You’re welcome,” Avi said and then smiled. “I’m not claiming to be a prophet about the gender of your child. The artist had a fifty-fifty chance of getting that right.”
* * *
Checking her phone, Hana found a message from Jakob giving her permission to present a contract to Mrs. Zarkawi. Turning on her laptop, she quickly composed a simple three-paragraph agreement written in Arabic and transferred it to a flash drive. Downstairs, she found Daud and Avi sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee as if nothing terrible had happened the previous day.
“Coffee?” Avi offered.
The aroma was too much for Hana to resist. “Only a taste,” she replied. “I’m really limiting my caffeine intake.”
“For you, I will turn on the espresso machine,” Avi said, rising from his chair.
Daud picked up the painting that was lying on a small side table. “Look what Avi gave us,” he said.
“An original?” Hana’s eyes widened.
“By the same artist as the other one.”
She listened as Daud told her Avi’s motivation behind the gift. The art dealer kept his back to her as he prepared the beans for the machine.
“Do you like it?” Avi asked when he turned around.
“I love it,” Hana replied.
“Good!” Avi clapped his hands together. “For some reason this makes me more excited than if I sold the most expensive painting in my shop.”
Hana stepped forward and gave the art dealer a quick hug. While they sat around the table, she told them Jakob and Vladimir Ivanov had authorized her to proceed with an agreement for Mrs. Zarkawi. Avi took the flash drive and printed out multiple copies of the two-page agreement. Both men read it.
“It’s so clear even I can understand it,” Daud said.
“Looks good to me,” the art dealer said. “I need a lawyer like you who can put things in plain language, whether it’s Hebrew, Arabic, or English.”
Avi called Mrs. Zarkawi and put the call on speaker so Hana and Daud could listen. Avi greeted her formally in Arabic. She reciprocated and listened to his request for a meeting.
“Yes, I’m glad you called,” the older woman said. “I have an engagement this afternoon, but if you can come this morning around eleven, we can talk then.”
Both Daud and Hana nodded their heads.
“Oh, and I’d rather not have Daniella Rubin join us,” Mrs. Zarkawi added.
“That’s fine,” Avi responded. “I wasn’t planning on inviting her since this is about a legal document.”
The call ended.
“Why wouldn’t she want Daniella Rubin to come?” Hana asked.
“I have no idea unless Daniella is charging a consultation fee to show up,” Avi replied.
Hana nodded. “That’s probably it.”
Avi finished his coffee and checked his watch. “I have time to run down to my shop and take care of a few things before driving to Talbiya. Help yourself to anything around the house.”
After the art dealer left, Hana turned to Daud. “How did you sleep last night?”
“It was tough,” he replied.
Hana reached out and put her hand on top of his. The feel of his warm skin beneath her fingers caused her to close her eyes.
“What is it?” Daud asked when she opened them after a few moments passed. “Were you praying?”
“No,” Hana answered with a quick shake of her head. “Unless being grateful beyond words that you are alive and well counts.”
“It counts.”
Hana pulled back her hand. “Once we finish with Mrs. Zarkawi, do you want to drive to Reineh?”
Daud was silent for a moment. “Yes. I’ll ask Avi if we can borrow his car.”
Hana smiled. She felt the decision to see her family was a kick in the teeth to fear. “What do you want to do now?” she asked.
“I’d like to sit together in Avi’s courtyard, listen to music, and read.”
“Like I do in the night?” Hana asked, her eyes widening.
“Yes,
only together.”
Hana went upstairs to get her Bible and notebook. In the courtyard, she found Daud sitting with his feet propped up and his phone in the middle of a small wrought-iron table. Worship music was playing. He’d found a pad of paper and placed it beside the phone.
“Is that okay?” he asked, pointing to the phone. “I know it’s in English.”
“Yes, I listen to that a lot and sing along. I’ve even translated some of the songs into Arabic.”
A new chorus began.
“Do you know that one?” Daud asked.
“Only in English.”
“Would you sing it?”
Hana had sung in front of Daud before, but she suddenly felt shy.
“If you don’t want to—” he added.
“No, it’s fine.”
Hana closed her eyes. She listened to a few bars before joining in with the words. Quickly, her alto voice grew stronger. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Daud had closed his. This encouraged Hana to press in even more to worship. The song ended. The next one in the queue was also familiar to her, so she continued to sing. At the edge of her hearing she began to pick up Daud humming the melody. He didn’t know the words, but his deep tone undergirded what she expressed. It was a new experience for her. When the second song ended, they joined together in another one. Daud stopped the music. His eyes were shining.
“That was glorious,” Hana said. “It reminded me of the night we prayed together for a new home.”
“Only better.”
“Yes,” Hana agreed. “We should do this more often.”
“I’ve never wanted to intrude,” Daud replied. “The middle of the night is such a personal time for you.”
Hana leaned over, took his hand, and pulled him closer. “Consider this an invitation,” she said.
“Okay,” Daud replied.
“Just don’t sneak up behind me.”
Daud smiled. “Agreed. Something else came to mind while you were singing. Hand me your Bible?”
For the next few minutes, Daud read several verses to Hana that spoke to the depths of her spirit. She sat completely still at first, not wanting to disturb the moment, but then she grabbed her journal and furiously made notes.
Promised Land Page 29