by Amalie Coles
“Ah, I see.”
When we got back, I considered calling Jason and sharing my story about the broken hard drive with him but felt too exhausted to talk. Instead, I typed a quick message and fell asleep almost immediately.
Chapter 18
I hurried to the computer as soon as I finished my breakfast next morning. I typed relentlessly until four in the afternoon, completely forgetting to take lunch. The longer I worked the easier and more interesting my project became.
Suddenly, I noticed my stomach was churning with hunger. I went to the kitchen in hopes of finding leftovers. Megan was standing by the countertop and making a cup of coffee.
“Hey, Rebecca! How are you feeling today?” she asked.
“I’m great, thanks,” I replied. “Although I do wish we didn’t drink so much last night.”
“It was totally worth it. We had lots of fun.” She poured coffee into a big cup.
“Is there anything to eat here?” I asked, opening the fridge. To my disappointment, it was completely empty.
“Where have you been today? You should’ve gone with us. We went to that falafel place we had visited a few days ago.”
“I became so wrapped up in my work that I forgot to take lunch.”
“Ah, I see. Very typical for grad students.”
“And I’m not even one of you guys.”
“Well, you act like you are. You seem so committed to your work.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“So, what are you up to?”
“I have no idea. I’m so hungry now. I kind of want to go to the falafel place.”
“Do you remember where it is? Cause if you don’t, I could walk with you.”
“No, it’s OK. You probably have your own work to do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I promise not to get lost this time.”
“All right, see you at dinner then. And please don’t skip it. Most cafés close early, and you don’t want to be out after sunset.”
“I’ll try.”
I walked out of the kitchen and proceeded to the lobby. This time, I took a map with me to be on the safe side. Then I ran straight to the eatery, where I ordered a small plate of hummus. Since dinner was only a few hours away, I didn’t want to get stuffed. After finishing my snack, I ran straight to the Albright Institute without even looking back. Then I threw myself at work for another hour and a half.
“Do you want to take a walk?” Caitlin asked me during dinner, which we spent eating shawarmas and discussing lab work.
“No, thanks.”
“We could go out together,” Megan suggested. “I’m sure it would be fine.”
“I’ve got too much work to do.”
“I thought the day was over!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe they make you work after regular hours!”
“No one forces me to stay late. I just have to finish the article by Friday, and I lost too much time after the laptop crashed.”
“Well, don’t overstrain yourself.”
“I’ll try not to. Anyway, thanks for offering the walk. See you all tomorrow.”
On my way to the library, I wondered how I had managed to make friends at least three times in less than three weeks. Ever since we had left Oakville, I had never had a proper social life. I was lonely through my high school years and never befriended anyone besides Dalia at the U of T. Most of my current friends were from Jason’s side. Lack of girlfriends never bothered me that much since I truly enjoyed my own company. Besides, having Erin in my life always compensated for the lack of female friendships. Nevertheless, the ability to sit with a group of girls and chat about random topics, like we did last night, felt good.
Needless to say, nothing ever felt better than working on a challenging project for several hours and days. The rest of the week was dedicated solely to finishing the translation. I stopped caring about regular hours and just sat at the library most of the time, except for the short breaks I allowed myself every now and then.
I never forgot to stay in touch with Jason and my parents, calling and texting them almost every night and sharing a few insights into my life at the Albright Institute. I obviously chose to forego the story about getting lost in East Jerusalem, although I did plan on sharing it with Jason at some point.
***
“Thank you so much for your help,” Helen said after I showed her the finalized copy, which had footnotes and bibliography formatted nicely in the SAA style.
“It was my pleasure,” I replied. “I learned a lot by working on this article,” I added, recalling all the information I had gained about the prehistoric settlements. The Manot Cave was definitely on my travel list.
“Rebecca, I was truly impressed by your level of commitment,” she added. “I never met a volunteer who worked so hard on a task.”
“It’s just the way I am. Once I’m on to something, I just cannot stop until it’s done.”
“I’m sure you’ll make a great scholar some day.”
“Thanks, I’m flattered.”
“If you ever need a recommendation letter, you can count on me.”
Having looked around, I saw our field directors walk into the library.
“Hi, Rebecca! How did you find this week?” Daniel asked.
“It was tough but also rewarding.”
“Well, we are glad to hear that.”
“I have an idea you may like,” Lawrence said.
“What is it?” I hoped he wasn’t going to ask me to translate another article.
“Each year, we have a speaker at the final dinner, and we were wondering if you could become one tomorrow.”
“What do I need to do?”
“You’ll talk about your experience in the field and in the lab,” he explained.
“Would I have to prepare anything?”
“Just a brief speech. We can provide you with the background info about the sites and the Institute.”
Before I could stop myself, I said, “Yes.”
“Here you go.” He passed me a USB stick. “You’ll find all the information about Ashkelon and the Albright Institute here. Please remember that we want you to focus more on your experience other than the factual information.”
“OK, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
On my way to the room, I bumped into Avi.
“Hey, Becky! I heard you are leaving tomorrow,” he began.
“That’s right. I’m going to Tel Aviv.”
“Well, we’ll miss you over here. So what are your plans for the next week?”
“I’m meeting my husband and—”
“Wait, you didn’t tell me you’re married.” He looked shocked. I considered mentioning my status that other evening when we were in my room, but it felt irrelevant then.
“I was too busy translating your article, Avi.” That was the best excuse I could come up with.
“I see. I just...”
“What?”
“I was going to ask you out.”
“Shut up!” I laughed. “How could we possibly date if we are miles apart?”
“You would come back to Israel to get your master’s degree, and we would end up working in the same lab.”
“And you would take me to Caesarea to see Moshe Peretz, right?”
“We could run off to Eilat to party with Eliko.” Avi looked amused.
“Or we could be more cultured and see the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.”
“Or go to Arik Einstein’s concert if he were still alive.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, motek, but it ain’t gonna happen.”
Avi looked a bit sad. “Can we be friends though?”
“Aren’t we friends already?” I smiled.
“You helped me so much during this week, Becky. I don’t know how I would’ve pulled it through if it weren’t for all your hard work.”
“And you helped me to survive the laptop crash.”
“It was no biggie for me.”
/> “I still have your CDs in my room.”
“I told you they were a gift.”
“Come on, Avi. I’ll bring them over. Wait a second.” I was about to walk away but he grabbed my hand.
“Rebecca, I want those recordings to be the token of our friendship.” He looked directly into my eyes. “Next time you are going through a rough patch, whatever it may be, you’ll put on one my CDs and feel happier.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” I began feel uncomfortable. No one had ever done something that nice for me.
“Don’t say anything. Just enjoy the melody and the beat.”
“I will miss you, Avi.”
“Me too.”
As soon as I reached my room, I phoned Jason and told him all about the reunion. I should’ve mentioned it way back in Megiddo, but the busy week had made me completely forget about it.
“That’s great!” he exclaimed. “Now you can arrive at our hotel one night earlier.”
I had initially planned to stay at the Albright Institute for an extra night. Jason would drive over to pick me up at the hostel, and we would go back to Tel Aviv together. The reunion only meant that we could avoid all the driving back and forth and meet right at our hotel apartment.
“Do you think they’ll let me stay earlier?” I asked, referring to the hotel we’d booked.
“Of course they will. I’m going to call the office right now.”
“That will be awesome because the restaurant is only a few blocks away.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve just checked it on the Google Maps. It’s very close. So I’ll head there right after the reunion.”
“My bag is almost packed, and I can’t wait to see you again.” He sounded excited.
“Don’t forget swimwear. I can’t wait to hit the beach.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“You won’t believe how much I’ve been working these past few days. But it was a great week.”
“I know, and I’m proud of you, Becky.”
“Thank you, darling. Those words mean a lot to me.”
I hung up the phone and dropped on my bed. Eyes transfixed on the ceiling, I thought about Helen’s proposition. What seemed like a dream less than a month ago was close to becoming real. Maybe applying to a grad school wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could either apply to the U of T or one of the American universities. With my experience at Ashkelon and the Albright Institute, I had a good chance of getting in.
But what would happen after I graduated? Would I be able to find a stable job? Judging from the unemployment rates, chances of getting an academic role were slim. Would Jason even want to move elsewhere if I chose to pursue a degree abroad? How would our families, who were eager to hold a grandchild, feel about all of this? The questions lingered in my head. What I couldn’t deny was that the article had made me proud of myself for the first time in the longest while.
I heard a knock on the door. “Who is there?” I yelled, feeling too lazy to get up.
“It’s me, George. Can I come in?”
“All right, coming.” I got up immediately.
“Hello. May I walk in?”
“Sure. How did you find me?”
“Very easy. The concierge told me your room number.”
“Hmm, I thought they weren’t supposed to.”
“Anyway, I just came by to ask if you would be interested in going to the Old City tomorrow.”
“With everyone?”
“No, just you and me.”
“What is everyone else doing?”
“Caitlin and Megan will be going back to their residences, and the professors will be working for most of the day.”
“How about Avi? Will he come, too?”
“I have no clue what he’s doing.”
“I have to work on my speech for tomorrow. I’ll be speaking at the reunion.”
“Come on, Becky. I’ve seen those speeches before. It’s only a five minute talk. There’s hardly anything to prepare.”
“Will we make it on time?” I asked, trying to find one last excuse to back out.
“Look, we’ll have the entire morning and the afternoon free. It would be lame to waste it by staying inside.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” The idea looked too tempting to ignore.
“See you at seven-thirty.”
Chapter 19
It’s hard to describe how I was feeling on my last morning at the Albright Institute. I was feeling happy, sad, excited, and a bit teary. The three amazing weeks would end tonight, and I would probably never see anyone from the expedition again. I would miss Ashkelon with its sun and dirt. I would miss the greenery of the Golan Heights. Above all, I would miss spending long hours working on a puzzle made up of foreign words. I decided not to dwell on these complex feelings and to make the best of my last outing with George.
I chose to wear a knee-length skirt and a blouse I had packed specifically for religious sites. I also took the white scarf that came with my purchase at Majdal al-Shams and put it into my purse. I would wear it to the Western Wall.
When I entered the cafeteria, I was quite surprised to discover that George wasn’t there. It was highly unlikely that he had forgotten about our plans for the day, as we had spoken right before going to sleep. I eyed Caitlin and Megan, who were carrying trays with coffee and muffins, and quickly joined them.
“We are leaving today,” Megan announced, putting her tray on the table. “We are going back to our residences on campus.”
“And tomorrow, we are flying back to the States to see our families,” Caitlin added.
“How nice!” I exclaimed, feeling a bit saddened by our parting. “Are you both from the same city?”
“No. Megan is from Boston, and my parents live in Portland, which is only an hour’s drive from Boston,” Caitlin explained. “But since we are going in the same direction, we decided to fly together.”
“Well, have a safe trip home, and I hope to see you again,” I said, already knowing that meeting them again was highly unlikely.
“You should come to Boston someday,” Megan said. “We’ll show you around.”
“Well, the Semitic Museum at Harvard is on my list.” I thought about the rich collection of artefacts from Ashkelon it housed.
“We’ll visit that one as well,” Caitlin promised.
I walked with them to the lobby, where we said our goodbyes. After they hopped in a cab and disappeared, I returned to the cafeteria, where I allowed myself another cup of coffee. Since George was still nowhere in sight, I began to feel annoyed.
“Everything all right?” one of the waiters asked me. I noticed he had a strong Arab accent. According to a name badge, he was called “Ibrahim.”
“Ha kolbeseder, toda,” I replied, meaning that everything was fine.
“Eich at mozaat at haohel?” he asked, wanting to know how was the food.
“Sababa!”
“You student?”
“Not anymore. I’m spending a month here learning about archaeology.”
“Nice. What you do?”
“Well, I initially came to Ashkelon to dig for artefacts but ended up here.” I tried speaking as slowly as possible. Then I decided to switch into Hebrew because it was much easier for both of us.
Ibrahim was a middle-aged man with an unforgettable aura of friendliness. I told him all about my plans to stay in Tel Aviv with Jason. For some reason, I mentioned my fascination with Zohar Argov.
“My youngest daughter loves his disks,” he said, suddenly switching back to English. “Her name is Zeinab.”
“Really? How old is she?”
Ibrahim stumbled.
“Bat cama he?” I repeated the question in Hebrew.
He told me she was seventeen.
“I’d love to meet her.” I tried picturing a young girl, perhaps in hijab or perhaps not, cranking “Elinor” and “Kmo Shikor” while going about her day. Maybe she listened to “Yam Shel Dmaot” whe
n she was feeling sad the same way I did back in high school.
“Then you come to our house,” he said, looking earnest.
“Where do you live?”
“Nablus.”
Nablus. Or better yet Neapolis, the city founded by Vespasian in 72 AD, the home of the Samaritan community. It was also the hometown to someone who liked my favorite music. For a moment, I pictured myself and Zeinab climbing together to Mount Gerizim and singing along.
“Do you commute?” I asked Ibrahim.
“What is commute?” He looked confused.
“Going from one town to another for work,” I explained.
“Ken. Kol yom.”
“I see. It must be tough.” For some reason, my mind trailed back to my work supervisor who drove to our office from Oshawa every day.
“Will you come to our house?”
“Thanks, but we might not have enough time.” I tried to sound as polite as possible. “We are only here for one week.”
“No let news fool you,” he said, sensing my slight uneasiness. “Nablus is safe.”
“That’s not the issue.” I tried reassuring him, wondering if he had just read my mind. “We might simply run out of time.”
At last, I saw George dash into the cafeteria, looking all dishevelled and distressed.
“I have to go now,” I said. “It was nice talking to you, Ibrahim.”
“Have good day,” he replied and retreated back to the food stand.
“Hey, is everything OK?” I asked George as he poured his coffee.
“Sorry, I got delayed at the lab,” he muttered. “There was a glitch in the system, and we had to reboot everything.”
“I thought it’s a weekend for everyone.”
“Yeah, but we were having issues with the database, so I had to come downstairs and help. Anyway, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“No worries. I had a good time here while waiting for you.”
“Yeah, I see.”
George quickly finished his breakfast and suggested to get going.
“Where should we go first?” I asked after we exited the building.
“Since I messed up the morning, you get to decide,” he replied teasingly.
