"Yeah, well that's nice to know. Maybe by the time we get back, my father will have straightened matters out at the embassy—"
"I am sure, it will all be straightened out." He glanced at his companion and saw that his eyes were shut. "Roy?" he said softly. The only answer he got was a drowsy murmur. Abdul smiled and focused his eyes on the road. Once or twice he glanced over, but Roy slept on.
He woke up suddenly as the car came to a bone-jolting stop. He was flung against the door and then back against the seat. "Wha-what's the matter? Are we there already?"
"We are in a ditch." said Abdul. "And we are out of gas."
"But—"
"It is no matter. Roy. We are practically there. As a matter of fact, we are on the edge of my uncle's estate— but the far edge. We will go the rest of the way on foot. It's just as well, because from here the road — road?— a couple of ruts in the ground— goes way off and then loops around. We will take a shortcut through the woods—"
"But the car— what do we do about the car?" Roy grumbled as he climbed out.
"I will have my uncle haul it in with a team of mules. It will be all right where it is for the present. Follow me." He plunged into a thicket of bamboo.
"You know the direction?"
"Oh, sure, but keep your voice down. Roy. Some of my uncle's people might be out and think we are trespassers."
"Yeah. well, maybe you could call to them." he said as he trudged along behind the shadowy figure of his friend. He was still not fully awake, and he found himself stumbling over the rocky and uneven ground.
Suddenly, from the side there came a shout of "Halt!"
Roy froze in his tracks, but Abdul began to run. "This way. Roy. Run. Run." A shot rang out, and he saw his friend stagger and fall.
Chapter Forty-Four
I'd know you anywhere." said Dan when he was introduced to Gittel. "You look just like your niece."
"Tcha! The idea of comparing a fresh, handsome girl like Miriam to an old woman like me."
"On the contrary. I'm sure David is very happy to know what his wife will look like when she grows older."
He ushered them into the Grill and was gallantly solicitous about seating the older woman where he judged she would be most comfortable. "Sit here. Gittel, there's a little draft from the air conditioner on that side." While they waited for the waiter to take their orders, he directed most of his conversation to her. He pointed out people he knew among the diners. "That man that just came in. he's a tire manufacturer who's here to build a big new factory. I was talking to him the other day in the lobby." He waved as the man saw him and nodded. "That woman, the one near the post. She was president of Hadassah two. no. three years ago." He caught her eye and smiled. "Oh, you know who that is coming in now. don't you? That's the Finance Minister. I interviewed him last year. I wonder if he'll remember me."
Seemingly he did. for when he saw them, he stared for a moment and then came striding toward them.
"Gittel! It's been ages since I saw you. What are you doing in Jerusalem?"
"Hello. Boaz. How is Leah? And the girls? I'm here attending a convention." She introduced him to the others.
"And Uri, he's still in the Army?"
"Still in the Army."
"How do you know him. Gittel?" asked Miriam when he left.
"Boaz?" She shrugged as if to indicate that she was not impressed by his importance. "We were in the same unit in the Haganah." Nevertheless, she was obviously pleased that the opportunity had arisen and that the Finance Minister had remembered her and been so effusive in his greeting.
"I was going to introduce you," said Stedman with a chuckle, "and he didn't even remember me."
"Boaz? He has a lot on his mind these days."
"I suppose. Was it your son he asked after? He's in the Army? He is a professional and planning to make a career of it?"
"Who knows about young people? They can change their minds from one week to the next. The last time I saw him. weeks ago. he was saying that he thought he might leave. He's got himself tied up with a girl, and I suppose she has been making plans for him."
"When are we going to meet him?" asked Miriam.
"A first cousin and we've been here almost three months—"
"Well, he doesn't get off every week. And I suspect that there have been some leaves he has had that I didn't know about. He is seeing this girl. She lives here in Jerusalem, and he wrote me that although he is getting this next week off, he will not be coming to Tel Aviv, but will come here instead. What do you think of that? His own mother he passes up to see a girl."
"But if he's coming here." said Miriam, "why don't you write him to drop in on us. if only for an hour or two? Tell him to bring the girl along. And you could come up from Tel Aviv for the Sabbath. Tell him to come for dinner— with the girl. And Dan. can you come?"
"I don't think so, Miriam. There's a good chance Roy and I will be gone by then, and if not. we'll be getting ready to leave."
"Oh, yes." she said, "you were going to tell us all about it."
"There isn't much to tell. My friend at the embassy arranged it for Roy, and I thought under the circumstances it would be a good idea if I went along with him. I’ve got all the material I need, and the rest of the work— the editing and the writing— I can do back in the States just as well."
The menus were distributed, and the waiter, a young man prematurely bald, was helpful to the point of being avuncular. "The pate, I guarantee you’ve never tasted liver like this, madam." They took his advice, and it was good. "Trust me, choose the steak." And when Dan chose fish instead, the waiter shrugged his shoulders as if to say that there were always people who had no faith.
When he was not fetching for them, he hovered over them, filling their wineglasses, offering Dan a light when he put a cigarette in his mouth, picking up Gittel's napkin when it slid off her lap. The talk flowed pleasantly, Gittel telling how it was in the old days and Dan chiming in with his memories of his earlier visits to the country.
Just after the waiter had served the coffee, the head-waiter approached their table. "Mr. Stedman? There's a phone call for you. This way."
"That could be Roy. Excuse me."
"He's a very nice man." said Gittel at his retreating figure.
He was not gone long, and when he rejoined them, they could see that he was upset.
"Was it Roy?" asked Miriam.
"No, it wasn't. Look, you'll have to excuse me. I have to leave for Tel Aviv immediately, but please don't go. Please stay and finish your dinner." He looked from one to the other. He saw their bewilderment and their concern.
"They caught Roy trying to cross the border," he blurted out and hurried out of the room.
Chapter Forty-Five
Your pajamas fit you better than your suit." said Dan Stedman sourly. And indeed they did because unlike his seersucker, the pajamas were unwrinkled.
Donahue smiled. "Yeah, they're some new kind of drip dry. You hang them on a clothes hanger after washing and they come out like you just took them out of the package from the store. My daughter gave them to me last time I was in the States. Drink?"
Stedman shook his head. He was silent, sitting hunched forward in his chair, his hands folded, his forearms resting on his thighs, staring down at the floor. "Sorry I got you out of bed." he said awkwardly.
"I wasn't asleep, just reading. Why didn't you tell me you were coming down when I spoke to you?"
"I wasn't planning to. I didn't think I could. I was giving this dinner party in the Grill. Nice people— I didn't see how I could run out on them. Nice evening, good dinner, interesting conversation— when I came back to the table, that's what got me, the conversation. How was I going to