No Time for Tears

by Cynthia Freeman

  But Chavala’s life, unlike Dovid’s, was lived in a void. The nights were the worst. Her nightmares had become so frequent that she awoke in the middle of the night drenched in perspiration. In those awful dreams she saw Dovid …and sometimes Moishe … dead. It took her days to recover and blot out the sight of blood…. If it weren’t for the children and Raizel she thought she would have gone out of her mind.

  And now she could no longer have the comfort of her sister. At least this loss was a bittersweet one. Raizel had met a young Chasid who lived in Mea Shearim. It was not exactly a marriage to make Chavala overjoyed, although she liked the young man. He was kind and gentle, with a sweet shyness. No wonder Raizel had fallen so in love with him. Her objection … and she knew it was selfish … was that for the rest of Raizel’s life she would live in Mea Shearim and in the worst kind of poverty. Still, who was she to try and persuade her sister? Raizel required so little. Their love would sustain them. But when Chavala saw Raizel and Lazarus Ben-Yehudah joined together, even in that solemn moment she vowed that somehow, someway, she would help bring her sister out of this poverty…

  They had married only three days ago, and already the longing for Raizel was more than painful. In her aloneness Chavala occupied a dim, shadowy world. Her thoughts, turned in on themselves, vacillated between love and hate, anger and guilt. She no longer even knew how she felt about Dovid. If only he would confide in her. At least she wouldn’t feel this sense of … of abandonment. Her resentments, in spite of herself, built to such heights that she wondered if she would even be able to face him. And such feelings made her ashamed at the same time.

  When Dovid arrived she did not greet him as before. They had seen each other, briefly, only three times during eight months of their separation.

  This time they went through the act of love almost mechanically. She tried, but she simply couldn’t respond to him the way she had the last time.

  As they lay side-by-side, Chavala could no longer hold back the hurt, especially when Dovid said, “Sarah sends her love…”

  Chavala got out of bed and looked out the window to the dismal alley beyond. “Why is Sarah still in Zichron? Is she any less in danger than I would have been?”

  Dovid winced. How could he tell her that, especially in Aaron’s absence, Sarah was a crucially important person at Athlit?… “Well, she doesn’t have children—”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why is she in less danger than I would have been?”

  “I can’t answer that, Chavala. I can’t speak for the Aaronsons. It’s my family that I want to protect.”

  She looked closely at Dovid, doubts invading her thoughts … Terrible, impossible doubts. But were they really? Dovid was a handsome man, and Sarah a beautiful woman … She knew Absalom was not always there, and without Dovid realizing it, could it be he was more drawn to Sarah than he even realized? And could it be that Sarah in her loneliness was perhaps reaching out to him?

  “Dovid … please be honest with me. This will sound strange but… well, do you still love me?”

  Dovid looked at her, dumbfounded. “Do I still love you? Good God, how can you ask that? Chavala, there’s a war, and we’re not the only ones that are separated—”

  “I know that, Dovid, but I wonder … I can’t help it… if there’s more to this than you’ve told me. I mean, Sarah being allowed to stay at Zichron and not me—”

  “What are you really asking me, Chavala?”

  “Is there something between you and Sarah?”

  Silence. He couldn’t allow this to happen between them … No consideration of security, or anything else, was worth it… He took a deep breath. “Sarah is at Zichron because of her involvement with NILI. In fact, her position at Athlit in Aaron’s absence is as important, maybe even more so, as mine.”

  Chavala felt ashamed, but also hugely relieved. “Forgive me, Dovid. I don’t know what else to say, except that I love you…”

  And, without another word, she led him back to their bed and proceeded to show him in the best way she knew how…

  But when Dovid left, once again the loneliness took over. She turned to Sheine.

  She sat down and wrote her sister:

  Dear Sheine,

  I greatly regret that we have not been in touch with one another for so long. With the world falling apart it seems crazy that you and I should remain strangers.

  I know there are many reasons in our lives that have caused our separation, but we are sisters, and there’s so much I want to share with you. If you can possibly find time, please come to see me …

  This may come as a surprise, but I’m back in Jerusalem, living in the same apartment that we shared when papa was alive.

  Please let me hear from you, and believe that I love you.

  Chavala

  When she addressed Sheine’s letter to “Nurse Elsa Beck,” tears came to her eyes. But she wasn’t taking Sheine to task. People were different … including sisters … Sheine needed to escape the ghetto in her life as much as Chavala, in a sense, knew she had never really left it. That part of her lay buried in a cherished piece of earth, just south of Odessa. But it was also with her.

  Sheine had sensed a desperation in Chavala’s words. She had also been surprised … and pleased … that she had grown so that she no longer feared the sight of her sister. The person who in her old fantasies had taken Dovid from her.

  As the two sisters sat now in the dark, sparse kitchen, Sheine wondered why Chavala and Dovid had returned to Jerusalem. But since Chavala didn’t say anything, she felt she shouldn’t ask. Instead she listened as Chavala answered her questions about Moishe … “He was wounded in Gallipoli, and then we heard nothing for a long time … but somehow he recovered and made his way to England. I think he was smuggled out by one of our people … but they don’t tell me so much … anyway, I can only believe he will one day be home … And have you heard from Dvora?”

  “Yes, she wrote me once, she said she was going to be married. I assume by now that she is.”

  “Yes, she has a little boy, just a few months old.”

  Sheine felt badly that no one had let her know. “What’s his name?”

  “Zvi… and her husband is in Canada with his volunteer unit. The world has surely changed our lives.”

  “Yes … and tell me about Raizel.”

  “Oh, Sheine … we really have been out of touch, haven’t we? Raizel was married two weeks ago and is living in Mea Shearim.”

  Sheine shook her head. “We’ve all grown up, haven’t we, Chavala? And come a long way from that little shtetl in Odessa.”

  “Perhaps you, more than me. I’m not so sure where we’re going.”

  “We …?” Sheine felt a sudden chill. She sensed an overwhelming loneliness in Chavala. “Where is Dovid? I mean, why are you living in Jerusalem?”

  Chavala knew she couldn’t tell Sheine about Dovid’s activities so without thinking she made up a story … “Well, Dovid and I have parted … oh, it isn’t permanent, but… Sheine, sometimes things do happen in a marriage…”

  Sheine sat quietly, in disbelief. There was a time when hearing this would have given her total happiness. But in this moment she felt only compassion. “I don’t want to pry, but … if you want to tell me …”

  Chavala swallowed hard. The deception was getting out of hand. “… I guess I became a little too … demanding … you know, a man gets tired of listening to his wife’s complaints. You know how I’ve always hated Palestine. And the years spent living in the village at Zichron began to get on my nerves. Maybe I’ve outgrown villages, maybe I began to find it… well, boring—”

  “But you seemed so happy, content there. What changed?”

  “We all change.” The less said the easier, Chavala thought.

  “Maybe it’s the war. I suppose you’re right. People do change. Well … I know that I have, and thank God for some changes. I’ve met a man I… like, and have much in common with—”

&
nbsp; “I’m so happy for you, Sheine! Are you serious about him?”

  “Yes… in fact, we’ve decided to marry.”

  Chavala hesitated, then said, “He’s a Jew… ?”

  “No … Chavala … this may shock you, but I just don’t have any special feeling for our faith. He comes from a good family. He’s a good man. His name is Gunter Hausman …”

  How, Chavala thought, could she condemn Sheine, when she herself was no longer observant? But still, the deep reservoir of her Yiddishkeit, her sense of Jewishness, was a lasting pull. Chavala was still so warmed by the cherished memories of childhood … the lullabies her mother sang when she was rocked to sleep in her arms, the Shabbes candles glowing in the silver candlesticks … the taste of sweet Passover wine … Yes, she clung to the essence of deep faith and was able to separate that from the dictates of form. She did not feel less Jewish for it.

  As Chavala looked at Sheine, a painful thought came to her… she thanked God that her mother and father were not alive to see a child of theirs marry outside the faith. “Sheine, dearest sister, I feel sad … but I don’t criticize … that, you’ve felt you had to let go of our heritage. It’s all we really have…”

  “It’s also brought us nothing but heartache and disgrace. … I know you’re disappointed, Chavala, and I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t matter to me that Gunter is not a Jew.”

  Chavala shook her head. “Does he know about you … I mean… being a Jewess?”

  “It wouldn’t matter.”

  There was a silence between them, and then an awkwardness.

  How sure, Sheine asked herself, was she that Sheine Rabinsky had been conquered, and that Elsa Beck had come out the victor? Whatever … looking at Chavala’s wounded expression, Sheine decided she had to get away …

  She got up. “I’m happy we’ve had this time together, Chavala, and I hope that you and Dovid will make up your differences … Now, I really must go.”

  Chavala stood up too and looked at her sister, and then the two embraced. Holding Sheine close to her, Chavala said, “I wish you every happiness, dear. You must believe that. Things can’t always be our way … I only pray that you’re never hurt.”

  Sheine merely nodded, walked out and closed the door behind her. Or so she thought.

  Gunter was waiting outside the cafe. “Lord, how I’ve missed you.”

  Sheine laughed. “That’s very flattering. Imagine, we work together and you still miss me.”

  “If you’re away from me for a moment, Elsa, I miss you.”

  Sheine stood awkwardly for a moment, then the two entered the dimly lit cafe. As she looked around, she felt awkward. Somehow Chavala’s words nudged her … Does he know about you? And her saying, It wouldn’t matter. Wouldn’t it? Could she actually enter into a marriage on a deception? Maybe she didn’t love Gunter with the same terrible passion, obsession, she’d once felt for Dovid, but she still loved, deeply cared for him…

  At first it had been a physical attraction, and then as they worked closely together, she found herself more and more drawn to him. And she now walked that fine line between affection and love. Who knew where one began and the other ended?

  As they sipped the Liebfraumilch, she peered over the glass, first at Gunter, then at the Jewish girls who were sitting not only with German officers but with Turks as well. Theirs, of course, had been born not out of loneliness but from a need to fill their stomachs … to bring food to many of their starving families.

  Such was not the case with her. What would happen if later in their lives, for some reason, he found out about her true identity? What would he do?

  “Gunter,” she said softly.

  “Yes … you seem hesitant. Like you want to tell me something and don’t know how. Please… out with it.”

  “You’re right. Fear is a bad thing.”

  “I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything, Elsa. And I’ve seen you calm under the most difficult conditions—”

  “But there are all kinds of fears.”

  “Then tell me, darling, what disturbs you?”

  Abruptly—how else to get it out?—she said, “I’ve deceived you.”

  “Deceived me?” He laughed. “Have you fallen in love with one of your patients?”

  “This is serious.”

  “Then tell me. I love you, Elsa—”

  “I hope so, Gunter, I hope you love me a great deal … I’m a Jew, and I’ve thought for some time now that I just can’t enter into marriage deceiving you …”

  Gunter sat for a moment without speaking. At first he was annoyed she’d deceived him … Still, when he thought about it, he’d never been prejudiced so why would he be now? He’d not only respected his professors, but revered them, and all had been Jews. He had friends and associates who were Jews. Then why did he feel strange, peculiarly … unsure of himself at this moment… ?

  He looked across the table at Elsa, tried to search deep inside himself. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced it wasn’t Elsa’s Jewishness that had shaken him but that she hadn’t taken him into her confidence at the very beginning of their relationship. The deception. Well, he loved her, didn’t he? She hadn’t changed from the exquisite woman who’d captured him, had she?

  He reached out for her hand across the table. “My dear Elsa, what difference could this make to me? But why was it important for you not to let me know before?”

  She tried to tell him about her life, how she was sure she could never enter his world being a Jew.

  “Dear Elsa, it hurts me to know how much you’ve suffered—”

  “I’m not alone, Gunter. My people have suffered for five thousand years … Well, I’ve told you everything now, except that my real name is … Sheine Rabinsky.”

  “Sheine means beautiful. Which you are. I want to be married soon. Would tomorrow suit you?”

  It was more than she’d dared hope for. “It certainly would. Let’s not waste a moment.” After all, she added to herself, he might change his mind…

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  WITH NO NEWS FROM Aaron, Absalom became impatient. Sarah watched him as he paced back and forth like a caged lion. Abruptly, he stopped and looked at her. “I’ve decided to go back to Egypt.”

  “Have you talked to Dovid about this?”

  “No. And I don’t want him to know until I’m gone.”

  “Absalom, you must discuss this with him!”

  “No, if I did he’d be against it, we both know that.”

  “That’s why I’m pleading with you to speak to him, you’re not thinking of the consequences—”

  “That’s an appropriate word. If we don’t make contact with Aaron the consequences will be that our work will have been for nothing.”

  Sarah was beside herself. “You failed to get through last time, and Aaron was able to save you, but he’s not here now. Can’t you be patient and wait? If you get caught this time they’ll surely hang you.”

  “I won’t be caught.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I have a different plan this time.”

  Sarah sighed. There was no way to convince Absalom not to go. “Then tell me, what is the plan?”

  “I’ve located a Bedouin as a guide, and I’m taking Nachman Shamir with me. We both speak Arabic—”

  “But that’s what you did last time, except for the guide and Nachman. You had to go through the desert. Why is this different?”

  “Because this time I don’t have to travel to the border, the British are already part way down the coast near Raffa. Sarah, I have the plan for the defense of Gaza. The Germans have heavy artillery there, and the British must be warned that the attack should be made by way of Beersheba, that the defense there is very light. They must not make the attempt to break through at Gaza. Now do you understand why we can’t wait for Aaron?”

  She understood, but Sarah was also still terrified, “I still want you to talk about this with Dovid—”

&n
bsp; “No, Sarah, this time I do it my way.” He looked at her. Taking her in his arms, he put her down gently on the bed they shared. This small room at Athlit had become their private world. Lying alongside her, he said, “Sarah, darling, let me hold you…”

  Sarah did more than that. She gave herself to Absalom as never before. And throughout the night they held each other, wrapped themselves in each other….

  In the morning when she awoke, Absalom was already dressed.

  As she started to get out of bed to dress Absalom came to her, sat on the edge, held her face in his hands. “Don’t come down with me, Sarah. I want the memory of seeing you this way.”

  There were no good-byes, and the tears did not fall, at least not until Absalom was gone.

  Disguised as Bedouins, Absalom, the guide and Nachman traveled south by camel.

  The first night they found no difficulty as they passed beyond Jaffa. But when they reached the next Turkish outpost they were stopped by a patrol and questioned about their destination.

  With Absalom’s knowing Bedouin accent, his dark brooding eyes, dressed in the long black aba with the kaffiyeh headdress, he was very convincing, and so they were waved on as ordinary nomads.

  Mostly now they traveled by night, not only because of the treacherous scorching sun, but to stretch out the water supply.

  On the third day at dusk, as they continued further south, suddenly in no-man’s-land between Turkish and British territory, some forty Bedouins came up out of the desert, swooped down over the high mount of sand dunes. They seemed to come from nowhere, just as the locusts had, charging with rifles in hand.