“But this response has maliciousness in it, which I’ve never seen in my son. I don’t understand it.”
“He was responding to the news-”
“I must find him, speak with him. After the shiva, I will travel to his base and talk to him.”
“You might cause the opposite result to what you’re hoping to achieve.”
“Why?”
“Give the boy some time. Don’t contact him for a while.” This was Elie’s purpose in visiting Abraham in person-to keep the father and son apart. “Let him work it out emotionally. For a few months, at least.”
“But I’m worried about him. Such anger could cause Jerusalem to take unnecessary risk. You know how it is when one is consumed by anger.”
Elie nodded. “Do you want me to make some calls, check on him?”
“Yes! Get the IDF to assign him to an office, a clerical job. For now. He’s very smart, almost fluent in German. Some English too.”
“Absolutely. I’ll make some calls, get him transferred. He’ll be safe.”
“Do it! If I lose him,” Abraham’s voice broke, “I’ll have nothing. Nothing at all.”
A young man entered the study with a plate of food and a cup of tea. Elie recognized him-the study companion, Benjamin Mashash. It was time to start a file on him.
Elie stood and headed to the door, murmuring the traditional condolences: “ May God comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. ”
L emmy sat with his legs over the side of the bed, his feet resting on the cold tiles. There was light in the window. Tanya was asleep, curled under a heavy comforter. He went outside. The air smelled of Jerusalem sage, a blooming carpet of yellow flowers along the rusting barbwires and warning signs: Border Ahead! Danger!
He heard a distant ambulance siren, but he couldn’t tell whether it came from the Jewish or the Jordanian half of the city. He thought of his mother, in constant motion, cooking, mopping, hanging wet linen on wires outside, or helping young mothers with babies. How could she be dead? The finality of it seemed impossible.
He heard the radio inside come to life, warming up with static. A series of beeps preceded the hourly news broadcast on the Voice of Israel.
Tanya got up and poured a glass of milk for him. They stood together by the wooden box of the radio, listening. The lead news was the U.S. declaration of a weapons embargo on Israel until it allowed an American inspection of the nuclear reactor in Dimona, to which Moshe Dayan responded, “With friends like this, who needs enemies?” The White House also denied Eshkol’s claim that the Americans promised that the Sixth Fleet would intervene should Egypt attack Israel. President Johnson issued an explicit statement: “ There will be an absolute neutrality by all American forces in the Middle East under all circumstances! ” To top it all off, the Voice of Israel reported that Abba Eban had failed to convince the UN Security Council to issue a resolution calling for cessation of hostilities and commencement of peace negotiations.
When the announcer moved on to news about the results of the National Bible Bee, Tanya asked, “Do you want something to eat?”
Lemmy knuckled the radio box. “Why are we begging the world for help? If the Arabs want a fight, let’s give them a fight!”
“It’s not so simple. Eshkol and his ministers are old men who grew up in Eastern Europe, where Jewish survival depended on the Gentile authorities’ protection.”
“But now we have an army!”
“A small army, poorly equipped, and outnumbered by massive Arab militaries equipped with the best Soviet death machines.”
The voice of opposition leader Menachem Begin sounded from the radio: “At this time of historic peril for our nascent Zionist dream, we must put aside personal and political rivalries and call upon David Ben Gurion to return as prime minister and lead Israel to victory!”
“There’s a sign of panic.” Tanya shut off the radio. “The wolf calls the lion to fight off the hyena.”
The Deux Chevaux took a few attempts to start. He placed the Uzi in his lap and folded up the half-window, bolting it in the open position. The car had the sour odor of burnt nicotine, but Lemmy did not ask Tanya whose car it was or who had smoked in it. She was twice his age, beautiful, smart, and independent. A woman like Tanya Galinski couldn’t be satisfied with an eighteen-year-old yeshiva dropout, let alone a soldier who was away most of the time. This must be the reason she had arranged a room for him with Bira.
They reached the hills west of the city. The road followed a long fence, ending in a dirt parking lot near an iron gate. A sign read: Sanhedriah Cemetery.
The sight hit Lemmy with the reality of the situation. His mother was buried here. He hesitated before getting out of the car. How could she be dead? He shut his eyes and felt her presence, smelled the raw fish and dish-washing soap, and saw her hand tighten her headdress. He thought of the hot chocolate she had made for him every morning, and his throat constricted. He pushed the memories away, determined not to cry in front of Tanya, and stepped into the sun.
Through the gate he saw a vast hillside dotted with tombstones. Farther to the right, beyond the stones, a group of rabbis formed a cluster of swaying black coats. They chanted prayers while one of them piled stones to form a marker. The group marched a good distance away and repeated the process of praying in the open field while another stone marker was erected.
Tanya asked, “What are they doing?”
Lemmy had never actually seen this done, but he knew the relevant Talmudic rules. “They’re expanding the burial grounds,” he explained. “Before a Jew could be buried, certain blessings must be recited over the soil to sanctify the site as a Jewish cemetery. Only then it is ready to provide a resting place until the Messiah comes and announces the Day of Resurrection.” He watched the group march again, almost out of sight, where they repeated the ritual. “That’s a lot of sacred grounds,” he said. “Are they expecting a plague or something?”
“A war,” Tanya said. “A terrible, bloody war.”
An old man at a flower stand accepted a few coins and handed Tanya a small bouquet. Lemmy was not sure whether his mother had liked flowers. She had never had any in the house.
“Let’s go.” He headed to the gate.
“Not there.”
He stopped and turned to Tanya.
“We need to go around.” She gestured. “Your mother is buried over there.”
“But this is the only entrance.” He pointed at the gate.
Tanya’s face, usually as smooth as porcelain, was creased in pain. She reached to touch his arm. “She’s buried outside the fence.”
Lemmy tried to digest the information. Again he felt as if in a dream, or a nightmare, where things seemed real but were not. Outside the fence?
Tanya wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “She hanged herself.”
A fleeting image of his mother at the end of a rope made Lemmy groan. He could see the noose tighten around her white neck, tilting her head sideways, her mouth agape, her tongue stuck out, thick and purple, her eyes wide and focused on him.
He grabbed the fence and shook it, fighting to control himself, to drive away the image.
But then the comprehension shocked him again. His father had buried her outside the sanctified grounds of the cemetery! Lemmy no longer believed in those rules, but she had believed! According to Talmud, she would be excluded from the ultimate resurrection of the righteous. And until then, her stone would stand out, attracting derision and mockery. “He is evil,” Lemmy yelled. “Evil! How could he do this to her? She lived for him!”
“He had no choice.”
“He could’ve done her this last favor!”
Tanya put her hands around him. “It was a suicide. Your father had to bury her outside the fence-”
“That’s a lie!”
B rigadier General Tappuzi shut the door to his office. “Okay, Weiss. What’s on your mind?”
“The UN radar.” Elie approached the map. His finger traced the road from Government House, circled east of the Old City to the Mandelbaum Gate, across the border, and over to the IDF command, which was marked with a blue Star of David. “About twelve minutes of driving.”