Broken Leaves of Autumn

by Eli Hai

  “I grabbed my bag and ran out. When I got to the hallway, I saw people running and screaming hysterically. The offices had emptied, and everyone was running toward the steps because the elevators no longer worked. While we ran down the stairs, someone said a plane had crashed, and I didn’t understand where. I thought the fire was outside, but like everyone else, I continued running down. In the beginning, there was light in the stairwell, and my progress was relatively quick. I almost managed to keep up with everyone. Later, it was so hard for me. I could still hear the explosions from above. It became really hot and dark in the stairwell. People ran and jumped like maniacs, hurting each other. Something hit my stomach, and I thought I was going to pass out. My stomach hurt and fear contracted it even more. I felt I had to get out of the building, or I’d die.

  “I think when I was about halfway down, I started having trouble breathing. It was impossible to see anything, but I could feel that thick black smoke spreading in the air. I felt I was going to faint any second. My senses blurred. Then, the lower I got, the less dark it was. I realized I was approaching the exit. And then, I got terribly dizzy. Everything became blurry. Someone stood next to me and urged me forward. I remember he kept telling me, ‘You can do it, you can, don’t give up,’ every time I stumbled because I felt I had no strength to continue. In the end, when I fell, I felt him hold me and help me get up.

  “Somehow, I continued forward. At a certain point, he literally carried me. I don’t think I would have managed to get out of there without his help. That man, I don’t know who he is, but he saved my life. At a certain floor—I think it was the exit because I saw firemen—I lost consciousness. After that, I don’t remember a thing until I woke up in the hospital.”

  Thus, in a voice choked with tears, Eve described these minutes of terror that she’d gone through, as everyone clung to every word she said in wonder. When she finished, no one said a word. Silence descended on the apartment.

  “And do you remember what that man looked like?” Jeff was the first one to break the silence.

  “No! No, I didn’t see his face, but I think he was dressed like you,” Eve replied, pointing at Ahron.

  “Like me?” Ahron didn’t try to hide his discomfort.

  “Yes. Like you.”

  Days later, Jeff and Ahron made tremendous efforts to find that guardian angel who saved Eve.

  They hung signs along the orthodox streets and neighborhoods, searched Brooklyn from top to bottom, and visited yeshivas and synagogues, but to no avail. The man wasn’t found.

  Jeff continued gazing at the woman he loved while she danced, noticing that her hips were slim again, as though she’d never given birth to their son and daughter. Her body showed no signs of childbirth. The twins stayed in New York, with Eve’s parents. When he thought of his son and daughter, he was pleased that they were Christians. He decided that when they were old enough, he’d tell them his wonderful story, and proudly emphasize his and their connection with the Jewish people.

  Epilogue

  Eagles spread their enormous wings and glided in circles over the deep, narrow wadi. The shrieks of the birds, searching for prey, echoed between the mountain walls and could be heard in the distance. Once in a while, the exhausted birds rested in the crevices of the rock surrounding the camel-like mountain, uniting with the nesting birds. Their small, piercing eyes surveyed the yawning abyss, and they tensed their bodies, waiting for what would happen. In the background, one could easily hear the roar of the water, falling from a vast height, forcefully hitting everything in its way, splashing in every direction, leaving a path of pure slivers of water. As it fell, the water gathered in the stream that flowed down the mountain. On both sides of the stream, as though wishing to decorate the wondrous sight, grew dense, green flora. On the hard ground, up the winding mountain, a Montpellier snake quickly slithered, searching for food in the shape of rodents and lizards. A group of young hikers, walking along the dirt path toward the mountain viewpoint, started singing, and the songs erupting from their throats decorated the air in a variety of notes. Huge basalt boulders scattered every which way were a silent testimony to the existence of an ancient settlement, rife with stories of war and heroism that the residents conducted against the Romans. Among the ruins, rested silently the ancient synagogue, perhaps the most ancient, and wild weeds already grew from its walls. And in this gem of nature, stood with pride the houses of the settlement of Gamla, with its red-tiled roofs. A toddler emerged from one of the houses to the yard. “Daddy, look at the flower I picked!” she called joyfully, and her light-blue eyes shone with excitement.

  She brought the flower to her father, who was sitting on a wooden chair, drinking from a can of beer and looking at the blue Sea of the Galilee. He turned his gaze to the little girl, smiled, reached out, gathered her to him, and kissed her pink cheeks. His eyes surveyed with unabashed pleasure the pretty child sitting on his knee, examining the purple flower in her hand.

  “Beautiful flower, honey,” he murmured, while wrapping the child lovingly in his arms. Then, he raised his head to look at the lake spread beneath him and paid attention to the rays of the setting sun, which reflected with much fanfare in the clear water, heralding the approaching Shabbat. His eyes became heavy. In a minute, his eyes would close, and only the magical sight of the golden autumn leaf, which had just fallen from the tree in the yard, landing lightly at its feet, would wake him up.

  “Here’s some sweet watermelon. Eat it now, while it’s cold.” The mother came out to the yard and, if not for her swollen belly, one would have thought she was a young girl.

  “Mommy, look at the flower I picked!” The child broke away from her thoughtful father, running to boast to her mother.

  “Sweetheart, that’s a wildflower! We should let the flowers grow and not disturb them.” The mother hugged the child tightly and kissed her.

  “God, she looks so much like you,” the father said, his eyes going between the mother and her child.

  The woman approached her husband, kneeled on her knees, hugged him passionately, closed her eyes, and said in a soft, quiet voice, “I love you, Yoav.”

  He looked at the woman at his side, buried his head in her bosom, and said, “I love you, Rivka.”

  “And don’t forget, love, we’re invited to dinner tonight at Eve’s and Jeff’s,” she reminded him before kissing his lips.