Uprooting the Olive Tree

Home > Other > Uprooting the Olive Tree > Page 27
Uprooting the Olive Tree Page 27

by Lloyd Philip Johnson


  “Bullied? It cost me a head injury, but I guess it worked. I don’t remember.”

  ***

  Uri looked around the Silwan apartment building with its small courtyard having survived. The bars on the first floor windows confirmed the takeover of the owner’s apartment along with the six-pointed blue star of the Israeli flag in the largest window. He and Carmella found the stair door open, walked up to the third floor apartment and knocked on the door.

  Najid looking a bit rumpled after a long day at the university opened it to find Uri and Carmella holding a bottle of red wine. He grinned. “Ashley, guess who came to see us?”

  She came striding out of the kitchen, white apron on and her hair in a ponytail. “What a great surprise! Come in and sit down. Oh, thank you,” she said, taking the red wine. “Najid, would you open this for our guests? That’s our favorite wine as you obviously knew. I guess the Supreme Court hasn’t come down with their decision yet about the Cremisan winery and school?”

  “I’m not sure, Ashley. I haven’t read of any resolution of the case,” Uri said.

  Najid served the wine. “Won’t you stay for dinner?”

  “Oh no,” Carmella said. “We just wanted to say hello and hear the follow-up on the apartment building that somehow we helped defend last week.”

  “It worked!” Ashley chuckled. “The settlers and soldiers have not come back. I think you two scared them off, maybe for good. We hope so.”

  “That would be nice, but the government just announced plans to build one thousand new housing units here in Silwan. That would change the area to become an Israeli enclave.” Uri shook his head. “I can’t believe what we are doing to displace so many Palestinians. And this just after the peace talks collapsed. Of course we went right on building them during negotiations as well.”

  “Are there no voices in the Knesset to stop this?”

  “Not enough, Najid. You should have heard the debate today on whether to pursue the cease-fire in Gaza. The prime minister somehow always gets another vote of confidence. He’s able to hang on with the coalition he’s cobbled together. The impotent left wants a cease-fire. They didn’t want the war in the first place. The right-wing Home Party and others would like to obliterate Gaza. In this case I voted to get the tragic war stopped. It was so unnecessary and accomplished nothing but destruction and death.”

  “You have my admiration and respect for what you have done and are doing,” Ashley said.

  “Carmella and I have learned much in these weeks since the accident. You have not only saved my life, but you have helped to open our eyes, to see things from both sides of the wall. We have known nothing of the other—or even cared about you.”

  “We are so glad you are in the Cabinet where you have influence and a direct voice to the top.”

  Carmella laughed. “You should know, Ashley, that the prime minister resigned him without my husband’s knowing he had resigned. But he still has a voice in the Knesset.”

  “Why did he resign you?” Najid asked.

  “Because I have changed. He heard I represented little Ali and he didn’t like his Likud colleague working on behalf of a Palestinian. And then Faisal and Almas’ situation. I argued for them also. Then I voted in the Cabinet against sending ground troops into Gaza. He didn’t like that either, and fired me on the spot.”

  “Maybe he won the battle now, but he’s going to lose the war,” Najid said. “Tyranny and injustice will not last forever. It never has and never will.”

  “We believe that too. And you have given us insight and hope. So we want to thank you,” Carmella said as they stood to leave.

  “And we and our neighbor below us thank you for your brave intervention a few nights ago. That took a lot of courage,” Najid said, shaking hands with both guests.

  “Probably more anger and adrenalin than courage.” Carmella gave a little laugh. “But it worked. Next time you need to come to our house in our big settlement. We’d have to bring you to get through the gate. We have friends there that might faint if they actually met a Palestinian to talk to. You two would break the ice.”

  CHAPTER 75

  Jamal agreed with Uri that they should make a personal visit to Faisal and Almas to explain the Supreme Court decision on their appeal to prevent the takeover of their farm. Jamal contacted Najid’s parents in Genger through him, arranging for them to meet the lawyers in Zabuda to be with their friends. Najid had lectures scheduled so Ashley would go with the lawyers to represent him. She hoped for good news, but in case they would lose their farm, she wanted to be with Almas particularly, who had been such a stalwart through Faisal’s injury and rehabilitation.

  The three from Jerusalem arrived in Uri’s car shortly after Rafiq and Farah had come from Genger in theirs. Faisal appeared at the door, and walked almost normally with a bit of help using only one crutch as a cane. Almas served tea and olives and pita bread with hummus as they sat down to chat about the latest news. Faisal spoke of the fear of more arrests of young people in Zabuda and Jenin.

  Ashley, with Jamal’s translation, told of Ali’s release with Uri’s intervention, and the story of their apartment building being attacked by settlers and soldiers.

  Finally Faisal asked Jamal in Arabic about the Supreme Court decision. Jamal translated into Hebrew for Uri who then began to explain the ruling of the judges.

  “The judges in their written decision used the detailed laws allowing confiscation of land that date back even to Ottoman times. They also referenced precedents, previous decisions of the Supreme Court that allowed land to be taken for various reasons—absentee landlords, lack of documentation of continued use of the land over fifteen to twenty years. They cited needs of the Israeli community for expansion, the need for security and the prior claim of the state of Israel over Judea and Samaria, the West Bank. Looking at all of these old laws and precedents, they voted two to one to reject our appeal.”

  All eyes turned to Faisal as his wife rose to put her arms around his shoulders. “It is what we expected,” she said. “Also this morning we heard sounds of the machines across the wall, starting to move in ways that sound like destroying trees. That was the first time for a month that we heard any activity from our orchard. So we suspected we had lost our case. They will continue uprooting the olive tree, destroying Palestine bit by bit. What will become of our people, our land?”

  Ashley fought tears as the group sat in silence.

  “Will they compensate us for the loss of our orchard, our only source of income?” Faisal finally asked.

  “Unfortunately not. They noted that you had said your land was not for sale. They did however, offer you a plot of land either in the Negev or in the Jordan Valley.”

  “Both places are being overwhelmed with the IDF and their land confiscations for firing ranges,” Faisal said. “They take most of the water in the Jordan Valley for their large farms. I understand that new arrivals have little chance of making a living on the small plots of land they’re given in exchange for their farms. The Bedouins in the Negev are also being kicked out.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Rafiq asked of his longtime friends.

  “We’ve come to the conclusion that we’ll stay here. We do have the house and some savings. We still have some income to come in from this year’s olive harvest. We don’t have children to live with, and my only relative is in Israel like you, Rafiq and Farah, and we are not allowed to go there.”

  “So you will stay here,” Farah confirmed. “Rafiq and I can come here, and we’re not going to let you starve.” She leaned over to grasp Almas’ hand.

  Faisal sighed. “I’ll try to find work here, somehow. Employment is not easy. But years ago Rafiq found that he could switch from farm owner to farm manager for some remote owner. Maybe I could do that once I’m over these crutches.”

  He stopped speaking momentarily, listening to loud squeaking and clanking sounds from across the wall. “That’s what we heard earlier today. Hearing it is bad enough
. Seeing my old tree-friends uprooted would be too much. It would kill me. Like taking my family. I will never try to see my land again. Like a funeral. It is buried and must be forgotten.”

  CHAPTER 76

  Fatima enjoyed the cooler weather of autumn in Bethlehem and looked forward to the Independence Day holiday in Palestine on November 15. A week had gone by since she and Sami had that discussion with her parents about their relationship. Fatima had wanted to ask them what they thought, but either the time wasn’t right or other things came up.

  Sometimes at their home, Ali would talk about Sami and want him to come to live with them. Her father would pass it off as a joke, but Ali was serious. Finally Jamilah said to her son, “Ali, Sami is busy at the University of Haifa. He is a good student and needs to be there. He can come occasionally for a visit, but he has to get back to his classes or he won’t get into law school, and that is what he wants to do. You can talk or dream about Sami coming here to live, but it’s not going to happen.”

  That would be as far as it went. No further discussion about Sami. And Saleh never mentioned him spontaneously. Her father seemed to avoid mentioning him to Fatima even though he must know how important Sami was to her. She didn’t dare bring up the question to him. She was afraid he might forbid her to see him. He didn’t say that they couldn’t at least communicate by e-mail. They avoided Facebook for privacy concerns. But they both felt the need to talk on the telephone. Fatima couldn’t use Skype at the college, but the cell-phone at noontime worked well after her morning classes and before his one o’clock on Tuesdays and Fridays.

  With her cellphone ringing Fatima excused herself from her friends and found a quiet corner of an empty classroom.

  “Hello, Sami.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “I just knew.”

  “You sound beautiful, so hushed and quiet.”

  Fatima laughed. “I miss you. It has been a whole week since you left. But you wrote that you were busy so you probably didn’t even think about me.”

  “I can’t get you out of my mind. You keep interfering with my concentration.”

  “Then if you do badly on your exams it will be my fault.”

  “Definitely,” Sami said. “But they won’t come until almost Christmas. So maybe I’ll recover by that time. But I doubt it. Being away from you seems to make it worse.”

  “Speaking of holidays, Palestine Independence Day is coming up. Ali has been wanting you to come for days now, so we discussed having you along with Ashley and Najid with us for celebrating—I don’t know what exactly because it doesn’t seem that we are very independent yet with soldiers everywhere.”

  “I can’t even imagine what is going to happen in this conflict, Fatima. It seems to be escalating with more and more settlements and restrictions. We have it easier in Israel even if we are second-class citizens like having buses reserved for Jewish people only.”

  “But getting back to the holiday, would you be able to come on that weekend?”

  “Fatima, you couldn’t find a jail secure enough to keep me away. Have you had a chance to hear from your parents about us?”

  “No. I’m afraid to ask them, and they never bring it up. I don’t know why. Maybe they don’t want to deliver bad news to us. I am worried that they are having real problems in seeing us together.”

  “Hmm.” Sami took in a deep breath and exhaled into the phone. It sounded like a gale blowing, then silence.

  “What are you thinking, Sami? And do your parents know about us? We just had a short visit from them in Haifa, but I found we quickly enjoyed each other. They have that quiet wisdom I see in Najid that I appreciate so much.”

  “Too bad that didn’t get passed down to me.”

  Fatima laughed. “But seriously, Sami, have you talked to them about us?”

  “I thought you’d probably ask.”

  “All right, I’m waiting for the answer.”

  “I did bring us up to them, and they think highly of you as a young woman of courage to bridge the gap between religious groups. Besides, they like you as a fellow follower of Jesus.”

  “So then, what about us—together?”

  “They have no problem with us seeing each other, and would like to have you visit. Maybe you could get a permit from the Israelis for a day.”

  “Oh, Sami, that is such good news! I’d love to come for a visit if they’d let me into Israel.”

  “We can work on that permit idea. But what will happen in a week or so when I come for the holiday? Ashley and Najid will be there too?”

  “I hope so. I’ve talked to her a bit about us. Maybe she and Najid can help.”

  “Okay. Then you think we should ask your parents for their blessing on us?”

  “Yes, Sami. I do. It is time we find out what they are thinking even though I’m afraid of what they will say. I’ve prayed about us, and have real peace about our being together as we can. We are so much of one mind … and heart.”

  “I love you, Fatima.”

  “I love you too, Sami.”

  ***

  After dinner, sitting around their table in East Jerusalem, Ashley looked from Najid to Sami and back again to her husband. They looked similar, they thought alike, and yet they were so different. Sami such a free spirit, always ready with some wisecrack, but a serious guy underneath with a deep faith. In that sense like his older brother. But Najid always waited to speak, a bit like his father, Rafiq, who had great wisdom from years of experience and hardship. But also from his own walk with his Heavenly Father. She thanked God for Najid coming into her life those two years ago in the student lounge at the University of Washington. And now she wondered what Sami thought about Fatima. Was this something serious? She knew of Fatima’s interest, and had picked up that Sami took every opportunity to be with her.

  Since Sami had arrived from Haifa at six pm, Ashley and Najid had the evening together with him before leaving tomorrow for Bethlehem and the Independence Day holiday to be with Fatima and her family. Ashley looked forward to hugging Ali again. He was such a little dynamo and lots of fun.

  And dear Fatima. Ashley remembered her relief talking to this young woman in the hotel lobby just after being terrified by her stalker at the Bethlehem wall, puzzled by her hijab while studying a Bible. It didn’t make sense at first, maintaining her Muslim appearance and culture while becoming a follower of Jesus. She didn’t really take on the Christian name or culture that so defined everyone.

  Fatima seemed to have wisdom beyond her years, and somehow could cultivate her walk with Jesus and not offend her Muslim family and friends. It reminded Ashley of how Jesus was criticized for frequently hanging out with people very unlike him. He bridged the gap between Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, Pharisees and prostitutes.

  Fatima had shared her feelings about Sami with Ashley once. But now she wondered what was happening between the two of them. What did Sami think? He seemed eager to be with Fatima again, wanting to take an early bus to Bethlehem tomorrow.

  “You want us to get up early on a holiday to catch the bus to Bethlehem?” Ashley asked Sami.

  “Yes. I’d like to spend most of the day with Fatima and Ali. And Saleh and Jamilah as well.”

  “I think we should spend more time here and leave in the early afternoon,” Najid said with a wink to Ashley, hidden from Sami.

  “That sounds like a better idea,” Ashley said straight-faced and looking at Sami. “Don’t you want to spend more time with us?”

  “No. Married folks like you and Najid are sort of boring.”

  “Oh, do you have some special interest in going to Bethlehem?” she asked.

  “Are you guys baiting me?”

  “Maybe,” Najid said.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you why I want to spend the day there if you agree to take an early bus trip.”

  “It’s a deal. If I can get Ashley up early.”

  “Fatima and I love each other. It’s that simple. We want to be together as
much as possible, but that may be impossible if her parents don’t agree with my seeing her fairly frequently. So, I want to maximize our time together tomorrow. We are not going to go against her parents’ wishes. And marriage now is not the issue. We just want to get to know each other better and not sneak around her father.”

  Ashley took a deep breath and sighed. It brought back so many memories of her parents’ strong objections to Najid, a Palestinian terrorist. Until her friend showed them who Najid really was. Maybe she and Najid could be that friend to Sami and Fatima. “Tell us the story, Sami. Where do things stand with you and Fatima, and what has happened in your talks with Saleh and Jamilah?”

  Sami told of their developing friendship growing into love. He related Fatima’s parents’ reaction and their concerns about their daughter aligning herself with a Christian family and leaving her Muslim heritage. The conversation went on for hours concluding only when Najid fell asleep at the table near midnight.

  CHAPTER 77

  The day in Bethlehem included Ali and a few friends playing football as a team, against Sami, Najid, Ashley and Fatima. The ladies played defense, with Ashley stopping all but one goal of the boys. Sami and Najid worked as an experienced team as they had many times before, and scored against the boys several times. Ali intercepted their pass on one play and ran toward Fatima, dribbling past her easily, and scored. He ran around with his arms in the air shouting just like the professional players. Ashley laughed and ran up to give him five. After a few more minutes without a score, they all returned home.

  Ashley with Fatima helped Jamilah in the kitchen while the men talked in the front room. She watched Fatima’s close relationship with her mother as they prepared food together as a team. That bond should never be broken. And yet if Sami and Fatima were to ever marry, it would be leaving and cleaving. Leave father and mother and cling together as a married couple.

 

‹ Prev