As she walked over to the Holy Sepulchre she entertained herself by looking at the colorful clashing stalls where the tourist trinkets were laid out.
Ezekiel arrived at ten on the dot. She was surprised when she felt him at her side.
“I didn’t see you coming.”
“I know. You were very pensive, worried almost.”
“I was just watching people,” she replied.
He didn’t push the matter, and instead put his hand on her arm, inviting her to walk with him.
“Let’s walk round the city before we come back here. I imagine you know the interior of the Holy Sepulchre.”
“Yes, and I’m still surprised at the devotion of the people who come here for the first time.”
“May I ask if you believe in God?”
Marian looked at him in annoyance. Why would he ask that question? How dare he intrude on her private beliefs?
“Don’t answer, there’s no need,” Ezekiel said, noticing how uncomfortable she seemed.
“And what about you? What do you believe in?” she asked, almost defiantly.
“I want to believe. I need to believe. But I don’t know if I believe.”
His reply impressed Marian. She felt as he did, and this was something that worried her.
“Why did you want us to meet here?” she asked, to bring this thread of the conversation to an end.
“Because, as I said yesterday, I think you will better understand what I have to say to you if we walk through some of the places where they took place.”
Ezekiel walked slowly, so Marian adjusted her pace to the old man’s and prepared to listen.
“Imagine yourself in 1920,” he said.
“Alright.”
Samuel spent many hours in the laboratory with Netanel. Both of them enjoyed making medicines and testing the effects of some of the formulas they designed. But even so they did not neglect their obligations on the farm. Kassia controlled Hope Orchard with a firm hand and reminded all who lived there of their obligations to the community, which consisted of working the soil, helping with domestic tasks, and not spending a single penny without having decided that it was for a necessary expense.
Netanel, who had silently incorporated himself into the routine at Hope Orchard, seemed livelier now and shared his memories with Ruth and Kassia, those two women who had lost their husbands.
Marinna and Igor seemed to live harmoniously, although Samuel and the rest of the group could not help noticing that they seemed much more like two comrades than two lovers. After so many unpleasant events, a certain calm seemed to have returned to their lives, especially since Louis had returned from his Egyptian exile. He had come back without warning, and they were all happy that he was with them once again.
Louis did not give them very detailed explanations about how he had spent his time in Cairo. None of his friends insisted that he should say more than he felt comfortable sharing. They were used to there being elements of his life that he did not share with anyone, not even with them.
“I would be happy if things carried on as they are forever,” Samuel confessed to Netanel.
The old pharmacist always listened to him kindly and attentively.
“You should find yourself a wife,” he suggested.
“A wife? I’m not at the marrying age anymore. Also, who would want to come and live here? Hope Orchard is not a home, it’s more like a collective farm.”
“Some of the women here are communists, some are socialists, and the ones that are neither have never stopped working and making sacrifices. Hope Orchard is a good place to live,” Netanel said as he looked at Miriam’s son Daniel out of the corner of his eye.
Netanel was too old and too sharp not to have noticed that Samuel and Miriam took every opportunity to be with each other, but neither took any further action, for fear of being rebuffed. Also, Daniel had to be considered, and Miriam would not for the world run the risk that he would be annoyed at her for not keeping herself eternally in mourning for her husband. Netanel thought that the kid could use a father, and that Samuel was the only one he would accept, but he didn’t dare say anything.
“I’m too old to get married.”
“Wouldn’t you like to have children?”
“I don’t know, life has not even given me the opportunity to think about it, although . . . Yes, I’m sure I would have liked to have had children.”
“You still have time.”
“Come, come . . . Let’s talk about serious things. I’m worried, I’m going to talk to Mohammed this afternoon. We have to stop these clashes between Arabs and Jews. We are not enemies, why should we be?” Samuel’s question was directed more to himself than to Netanel.
“Well, some of the Arabs never accepted the Balfour Declaration, they see it as a threat,” the pharmacist replied.
“But Prince Faisal and Dr. Weizmann seem to have reached an agreement. Faisal doesn’t seem to mind that the Jews would get some land, and now that he has been declared king of Syria . . . ,” Samuel insisted.
“Faisal is not the problem, the problem is the British and the French. I think that the French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau will not let Faisal reign, he wants Syria and Lebanon for the French, and if the British allow him, then he’ll take Palestine as well.” Netanel did not seem to have any illusions about the motives that these two winners of the Great War might have.
“They have to respect the agreements they made with Sharif Husayn and his sons Faisal and Abdullah,” Samuel protested.
“They should respect them, but I don’t suppose you’ll be so naïve as to think that they will. Neither Britain nor France is interested in a greater Arab nation. Do you think that they have fought against the Ottoman Empire to make way for another empire? They’ll divide the land between themselves, and the Arabs and the Jews will pay the consequences.”
“We cannot fight among ourselves,” Samuel insisted.
“Well, just as there are Jewish nationalists, so there are Arab nationalists who think that this is their land and that we are a danger to them, and that is why they are pressuring the British not to allow any more European Jews to immigrate to Palestine.”
“And their pressure is having its effect. Also, the military governor, Sir Ronald Storrs, is not exactly fond of Jews.”
“They say that he is particularly set against Jabotinsky,” Netanel added.
“Well, I can understand how he feels, I don’t like Vladimir Jabotinsky either. He’s an extremist,” Samuel replied.
“He’s a man who knows what he wants. People listen to him. He’s a leader, even if I’m not very convinced by him either.”
“But now the important thing is to stop these clashes from happening. What took place at Tel Hai cannot be allowed to happen again. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for him and his friends to go around in uniform, parading themselves.” Samuel’s voice was worried.
“Well, they fought alongside the British, they are part of the Jewish Legion. They played their part in the Allied victory as well. Don’t forget that it was a group of bandits that attacked the Tel Hai farm, even though people say that it was a confrontation between Jewish and Arab farmers, and that unfortunately there were victims,” Netanel reminded him.
“This is all because of tension in Galilee that’s been there since the Balfour Declaration. Syria and Lebanon are very close, and the Palestinian Arabs don’t like what the French are doing,” Samuel replied.
“Which leads some of our own, Vladimir Jabotinsky among them, to insist that we need to prepare to defend ourselves with our own forces,” Netanel replied.
“In any event, I don’t like Jabotinsky. I don’t trust people like him who seem too much like the European fascists.”
The two men fell silent as the door opened. Miriam interrupted the conversation and Marinna, caught up i
n making out accounts, smiled at her affectionately.
“Did Daniel forget his lunch again? I’ve told you not to worry, he’s always welcome at our table. My mother doesn’t make distinctions, and she insists that you don’t need to send any food for him.”
“Kassia is very generous, but there are a lot of you for me to add another mouth to feed. At least let him share with you what I made for his lunch.”
“And what about Judith?” Marinna asked.
“She’s alright, but there’s no way to make her rest; she’s always been like that, however, she likes working and being with Yossi.”
“You work hard as well,” Marinna said.
“Well, I help as much as I can, the least I can do is help my sister and my brother-in-law after all they have done for me, all the generosity they have shown. Also, they are overwhelmed, because more and more people come to their house. Abraham never refused to help anyone who knocked at his door, neither rich nor poor, and Yossi is the same as his father. Of course, given the current situation in Jerusalem, there are more and more people who come looking for medical help in the knowledge that no one will ask them to pay for it.”
“Your sister says you can treat fractures with the best of them.”
“Yossi showed me, and he says I’m good at it.”
Samuel interrupted the conversation to ask Miriam to stay for lunch.
“No, I can’t stay, I only came to bring my son’s lunch, but I have to go back. There are at least thirty people waiting for Yossi to see them, and he and Judith don’t have a moment to rest,” Miriam said, to excuse herself.
“Well, in that case I’ll walk with you for a bit, I don’t have much of an appetite today,” Samuel said as he looked for his jacket.
They walked along for a while talking about unimportant matters.
“It smells like spring,” Miriam said.
“That’s natural, it is April.”
“Will you come to celebrate the Sabbath with us? Yossi wants to see Louis.”
“Ah, Louis! He comes and goes without giving any explanations, but we are all happy to have him back with us again.”
“Do you think that the clashes with the Arabs will get worse? What happened in Tel Hai was terrible,” Miriam whispered.
“Well, let’s not exaggerate,” Samuel said, to calm her down, “it’s not the first time that a farm has been attacked by bandits. Louis says that the Arabs have nothing against the Jews, that it was a way of protesting against the French influence in northern Galilee. Also, some Christian villages have been attacked as well.”
“Shall we celebrate Passover together? There’s only a few days to go . . . Yasmin has said that Mikhail will come from Tel Aviv.”
Samuel was hurt to find out from Miriam that Mikhail intended to spend Passover in Jerusalem. He understood that he was in love with Yasmin, and she with him, and that they wrote to each other all the time, but would it really hurt him to write once in a while?
“I’d like to celebrate Passover with you, but it depends on Ruth and Kassia.”
“Our Passover this year is at the same time as Christian Easter and the Arabs’ Nabi Musa,” Miriam reminded him.
“Nabi Musa is almost a Jewish festival, it honors the memory of Moses.”
“Does Dina celebrate it?”
“Dina is an extraordinary woman who lives to make other people happy. She’ll do whatever is necessary to please Mohammed and her daughter-in-law Salma, Aya, and little Rami. The baby has made her smile again. A few days ago she said that being a grandmother was the best thing in the world.”
“Rami is a beautiful little boy,” Miriam agreed.
“Yes he is, and more importantly he’s very clever and joyful.”
They said goodbye at the entrance to the Old City. Samuel noted to himself that he liked spending time with Miriam more and more every day, and he wondered if she felt the same way about him.
On April 4, 1920, Jerusalem was having a party. Arabs, Jews, and Christians met in the streets of the Old City, packed in until there was no room for anyone else.
Louis had woken up worried. He had spent a few days at Hope Orchard, and although he tried not to upset his friends, he had no option this time other than to share his anxieties with Samuel.
“I don’t know why Governor Storrs has given the Husseini a permit to parade through the city.”
“Well, the Husseini are an important family, and the mayor is a Husseini, so I don’t know why you are worrying.”
“Because it’s clear that there are now more and more clashes between the Arabs and the Jews, and Governor Storrs should be trying to make sure that there aren’t any incidents. Also, in the past the procession has always gone round the city, never straight through. I know that Dr. Weizmann has spoken to the governor . . .”
“Sir Ronald Storrs doesn’t like anyone to tell him what to do, much less Chaim Weizmann, the man in charge of the Zionist Commission,” Samuel admitted.
“Storrs should be trying to prevent any possible conflict after what happened in Tel Hai . . . You know that that was a tragedy that cost several lives.”
“Yes, I know, but nothing like that could happen in Jerusalem. Calm down, Louis.”
“I’m going to meet with a few friends; we’ll keep an eye on the situation.”
“The best way to make sure that nothing happens is for us not to get nervous, and not respond to any provocations. The Arabs are not our enemies,” Samuel said.
“You know, I’m not so sure that that’s the case. Have you read some of their pamphlets? They call us ‘dogs’ . . .”
“We mustn’t let ourselves be influenced by nationalist groups that see us as a danger. We have to know how to be in this place that is ours.”
A little while after Louis left, Kassia and Ruth came to tell Samuel that they were going to the Old City as well.
“We won’t be long, you know that Dina wanted to celebrate Nabi Musa with us. Aya told Marinna that her mother has been cooking since yesterday. I’m so happy that we can all gather together round a table,” Kassia said.
Samuel was happy as well. They could not all be together very often. Although Mohammed and Salma seemed happy, as did Igor and Marinna, there was always a tension in the air when they met, which transmitted itself to the rest of them. After the deaths of Ahmed and Zaida, Dina had done all she could to maintain normality, and not for anything in the world would he have rejected her invitation. Her grandchildren Rami, Aya’s son, and Wädi, the son of Salma and Mohammed, had been a balm to her wounds. Salma had just given birth to Wädi, he was little more than a month old, and Mohammed was filled with pride and joy. It had been a relief for Salma as well, finally to give birth to this child who was a living link between herself and Mohammed. She had no complaint to make of her husband, but she sometimes saw his gaze lose itself in contemplation of Marinna’s face.
Netanel had offered to accompany Ruth and Kassia on their trip to the Old City. Marinna and Igor had also left early to participate in the celebrations in Jerusalem. Samuel had insisted that they celebrate this day as a holiday, so they used that bright morning to visit some friends, including the Yonah family. Yossi and Judith had insisted on celebrating Passover at their house, but had resigned themselves to Dina being the hostess of the double celebration of Nabi Musa and Passover.
Samuel was left alone in the house, savoring that unexpected solitude. Life in the commune prevented there being any moment of privacy, for all that they were respectful to one another. Samuel sat down in an old rocking chair that Ariel had made for him and read a book, enjoying the silence.
It was not until late in the morning that Samuel found out about the tragedy. Daniel, Miriam’s son, came running to Hope Orchard and, with tears in his eyes, insisted that Samuel come with him.
“My mother says you should come . . . It’s horrible, hor
rible, they’re killing us!”
Trying to get Daniel to explain to him what was happening, Samuel ran after him, but he could not get the young man to give him a coherent explanation.
“The brother of the Mufti Husseini, it was him,” Daniel said, with his voice breaking.
“But what has Haj Amin al-Husseini done?” Samuel wanted to know. He was finding it difficult to keep up with Daniel, and was starting to feel pains in his chest.
They ran into a crowd before they got to the Old City, and Daniel stepped back in fear, hearing a group of Arabs crying, “Death to the Jews!” Samuel heard that shout and it was as if a knife had been plunged into his gut. They tried to pause for a moment in a doorway, but Samuel had scarcely caught his breath before they carried on running until Samuel could no longer keep up with Daniel. People ran past him, shouting. He felt dizzy and confused and only reacted when he saw some young men with sticks beginning to beat two elderly men who were heading for the Jewish Quarter. Samuel stood between the gang and the old men, telling the youngsters to drop their sticks, but one of them hit him and shouted, “Palestine is ours!” They hit Daniel as well, and the young man fell down in a pool of blood. That was the last thing Daniel saw before a boot to the head knocked him unconscious.
The young men must have been satisfied, because they left them in the middle of the street. It took a while for Samuel to regain consciousness; Daniel sat next to him, trying to make him wake up, crying uncontrollably.
He managed with great difficulty to get back on his feet, and to carry on fleeing the madness that had taken control of the city. They heard shots, and they saw groups of Arabs armed with pistols, facing off with other armed men.
“Those are Jews,” Daniel said.
Samuel said nothing because he had seen a pile of the injured near where they were standing, and he headed over to it.
“Where are the British?” he asked, more to himself than to Daniel, as he knew that the young man would not have an answer.
They ran into another group of Arabs preparing to break into Jewish houses, and they heard the screams of terror from their inhabitants. They were beaten again, and a man with a saber came at Daniel and cut at his thigh. Samuel tried to help him but did not get there in time. First he heard a sharp noise and then he felt a pain that spread through his shoulder. The two of them fell to the ground together and once again were beaten and insulted. Samuel felt that his life was slipping away, and fainted. They had shot him.
Shoot Me, I'm Already Dead Page 40
