No Time for Tears (25 page)

“Aaron … there’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“Nothing, Sarah … nothing.”

“I know you too well, Aaron … Whatever it is I want to help.”

He looked at her closely. Did he dare put her in the kind of danger knowledge of NILI would bring? Did he have a right not to?

“What
is
it?”

And then slowly he told her about NILI, how it had come about… When he had almost finished he said, “The Yishuv knows nothing … some of the Shomrim are against us … but above all, the village must
not
know. No one except those few who are involved.
Ema
and
abba
do not know and must never find out—”

“What about our brothers? Do Alex, Zvi and Shmuel know?”

“Only Alex is involved. I’m afraid we have a house divided. Zvi is in the Negev, and Shmuel in Galilee. It’s best that way, and I respect their feelings.”

“And Absalom?”

Aaron tried to turn away.

“What is it, Aaron, please
tell
me … I’m a woman, not a child you can protect I can help.”

There was a long pause, “Absalom is in jail.”

“Dear God, no!
Where?”

“At Beersheba.”

“Why … what is he being held for?”

“I blame myself, I should have insisted it was too great a risk …” And he told her the story, from the time Dovid and Absalom had left.

Sarah suspected there was more … “Aaron, don’t keep anything back from me.”

He hesitated then: “I’m doing everything I can to … to save them. You must be very strong, Sarah. I’m sure you understand—”

“Are you telling me that they could be … hanged?”

Aaron nodded slowly.

For a moment Sarah thought her knees would collapse under her. “
Take
me to him, Aaron.”

Aaron looked at his sisters eyes. To deny her was difficult, but for her to see Absalom this way would be more painful. “Sarah, you said you wanted to help.”

“I do. This cause is mine too—”

“Sarah … somehow I’ll bring Absalom back to you. I promise. And you can be of help right now—”

“
Anything,
Aaron.”

“Tomorrow morning I want you to go to Jerusalem and bring Chavala back.”

“Yes, of course, Aaron. I’ll go. But you do assure me that Absalom and Dovid will return soon?”

He looked at his sister’s eyes. “Yes, I promise.”

He wished he could be convinced of what he’d said, but if anything happened to Absalom there would be time enough for Sarah to weep.

Aaron never took up an issue with Jamal Pasha that could be handled by lesser thieves. But in this case the Germans were involved. Even the bribes that were taken and stashed away did not release the men from prison. When Aaron complained to a Turkish underling, he shrugged and made further promises and more
baksheesh
was extorted. But the sands in Absalom’s and Dovid’s hourglass were running very low.

This time as a show of strength, he took two of the top agronomists with him, Samuel Guri from Athlit and Zalman Kishon from Hadera. At this moment Aaron had never been more appreciated by Jamal Pasha. His star was high in the royal orbit. The Turkish granary was bulging with an enormous tonnage of grain and fodder, which had been delivered the previous week.

Jamal Pasha greeted Aaron and the two men with Oriental exuberance.

“Ah… my dear Aaronson.”

Aaron acknowledged the greeting. “You have met my chief agronomists, Mr. Kishon from Hadera and Mr. Guri from Athlit?”

Pasha looked at the two men, then realized he’d never seen them and if he had he surely couldn’t remember. “Yes, of course … now sit … sit.” Handing the cigarette box to Aaron first, Jamal said, “These are the finest, they are made personally for me … a special blend, so aromatic.”

Aaron never smoked, but he took one to oblige, as did Kishon and Guri. To refuse would be a gross breach of etiquette.

“They’re marvelous, wouldn’t you say?”

“Marvelous,” Aaron answered. “Now I believe—”

Jamal interrupted, wanted to savor the moment, knowing the best was yet to come. Aaron was bringing him good news. “You’ve ridden far … let me have some coffee brought.”

“That would be fine.”

All three despised the dark black bitter brew, but Absalom’s and Dovid’s lives were surely worth a sour stomach.

After the ritual hospitality was finished, Jamal’s eyes glistened as though with lust after a woman. “Now, to the reason you are here. How much wheat, barley and fodder do you have this time—?”

“None,” Aaron answered calmly.

“
None
… do I hear you correctly?”

“Yes, and would you like to know why?”

“Would I like to know
why?
” He got up and commenced pacing the room.

Turning abruptly, Jamal shouted, “
Why?
”

“Because you keep putting my men in prison.”

“I put your men in prison? Your men have never been molested since that little episode in Jaffa. I gave you my word it would never happen again, and now you sit there with this accusation?”

“The manager at the station in Hadera is now being held in Beersheba as well as my top agronomist from Athlit … I can only deliver what you want if I have the men … I don’t mean the
fellaheen
… mere workers … to get the yield you want requires the brains of men like Guri here. How much tonnage, Samuel, were
you
personally able to have produced in this last shipment?”

“Five thousand tons of grain this spring, by rotating the crops last fall … which, of course, was not my idea but Dovid’s.”

“And what was your productivity, Zalman?”

“At Hadera we produced three thousand tons of fodder over and above the prior shipment.”

“How responsible for that yield were you, personally?”

“Well, I’d say I made my contribution, but without Absalom’s scientific expertise it could never have happened.”

“And there you have it. Workers to plow, to harvest, to sack, to pick and to deliver, we can get easily. But without men like Landau and Feinberg we have no production.”

Jamal frowned. Landau and Feinberg? Those two Jews could grow figs in the Sinai! Never mind if he liked them or not, the important thing was that
they
had been responsible for those yields. Jew or Armenian, made no difference, whoever could produce was vital to winning the war and to his private treasury … “Let’s begin again. You say your men are being held in Beersheba?”

“That is right.”

“Well, you do know, Aaronson, I have a huge country to manage. Every prisoner is not brought to my attention. Why are they there?”

“On a contrived and unsubstantiated charge of
spying.
Could anything be more ridiculous?”

Or true? Jamal thought. He remembered the plans sitting on his desk … but absolutely nothing had come of that, and he had carefully watched and waited … “Who made the accusation?”

“The Germans … in all due respect to their status as our allies, I wouldn’t trust them any more than I would the British, French or Russians. I owe
them
no loyalty. My allegiance is to my government, the Ottoman Empire, and to you, who have proven your friendship.”

Jamal was pleased. His love for the Germans was almost as great as for the British. “Yes, go on, about the Germans.”

“I know they feel a sense of superiority over us Turks. They have the fleet and the air power. Unfortunately, we do not. There is also an arrogance about them, and it is my guess that they would like nothing better than to take a very large slice of the cake when the war is over.”

This Jew was very smart indeed. Aaronson was expressing the same thought he had lived with for a long time. “What do you mean by a large slice, Aaronson?”

Aaron knew that he was beginning to gain his advantage by playing on Jamal Pasha’s antagonism toward the Germans. He felt it, he sensed it He hurried on. “By
large
… I mean Palestine and Syria.”

Aaron was right in his evaluation, he understood the Oriental mind and knew nothing was more seductive than greed. Jamal Pasha sat and stared as his anger visibly grew. He could see himself being thrown out of his office and replaced by some arrogant German …
Jawohl, mein Herr
… Jamal Pasha would see them in hell first.

“… To hang them …”

“What, Aaronson? My mind wandered for a moment… you were saying?”

“An army, they say, fights on its stomach. That’s why I sent Landau and Feinberg, our chief agronomists, to do a study on wheat growing in the Negev. But they were arrested by your, if you will excuse me, stupid German patrols. They have a German mentality, and because my men couldn’t produce some ridiculous card, they were arrested as spies. Now, I ask you, how intelligent can they be when they can make a big show of arresting scientists in the desert who should be able to go wherever grain can be found to feed the army? In order to make it appear that they perform a useful job here, they are about to hang them to impress the kaiser.”

The blood had rushed to Jamal Pasha’s face. Stupid, stupid Germans. With their goose-stepping and their blond close-cropped hair, those watery blue insipid eyes and ridiculous Viking faces. The Ottoman army could die of starvation and the kaiser, with his crippled army, wouldn’t send a krone. If the empire collapsed he would do a Strauss waltz in Damascus. He was on to them, so was Aaronson. Smart Jew…

Jamal called for his secretary to come in immediately.

“Send a telegram … Beersheba. Absalom Feinberg and Dovid Landau are to be freed without delay.”

From Damascus Aaron and the two men went to Beersheba, where they were led down the dark, cold stone corridor to Absalom’s cell.

Even the dim shaft of light almost blinded Absalom when the cell door was opened. It seemed he had been in the dark for a very long time, and now he was sure that the end had come. And then … was he imagining? … no, it
was
Aaron’s voice … incredible … “
Shalom
, I’m glad you dropped by,” he said with an ironic bravado he hardly felt.

Aaron raged inwardly at the condition Absalom was in. His normally well-groomed beard was matted with saliva, his lips were cracked from lack of water. His entire ordeal was written in the dark circles under his eyes … What barbarians. He would have given his life to choke Jamal Pasha as he watched Absalom trying to get up. “Thank God you’re alive … we’re taking you home. Samuel, get him out to the wagon and I’ll see about Dovid. Then come back.”

“I can do it, Aaron, on my own—”

“You’ve done enough. Now, take him out….”

Aaron and Zalman found Dovid on a cold stone floor, shaking, convulsed with malaria. He had been given no quinine since his attack. He was beyond recognizing anyone. As they picked him up he could only mumble incoherently.

“Inhuman …” Aaron said. “I brought quinine when I was here, they didn’t give him any … thank God we brought some …”

When Dovid lay alongside Absalom in the wagon, Aaron took the reins and whipped the horse into a fast gait. Zalman sat next to Dovid and wiped away the sweat pouring from him. He tried to pour water from a jug, which almost fell out of his hand as they hit a deep rut in the road. Finally he replenished the cup, opened Dovid’s mouth and put the quinine on his tongue, forcing him to drink. Dovid’s teeth chattered so badly he couldn’t swallow. Zalman tried again until he managed, then covered him with more blankets. “Thank God, the quinine seems to be working,” Zalman said as he watched Dovid fall into the blessed release of sleep.

“What’s been going on at home?” Absalom asked quietly.

“You have a big surprise,” Samuel told him.

“The only surprise I know is that they didn’t hang us. What else?”

“You have someone waiting for you at Zichron.”

Absalom hardly dared hope, but he got out the name … “Sarah … ?”

“
Mazel tov.
If you can still think of her, I think you’ll be all right,” Samuel said….

It was two o’clock in the morning when they reached Zichron, and then the Aaronson home. Absalom was carried upstairs, where a waiting Sarah nearly fainted when she saw him. “
Here
, bring him into Aaron’s old room.”

When they were alone Sarah allowed the tears to come. “Thank God, you’ve come home…”

Absalom smiled. “My Sarah? I know I’m dreaming …let me look at you … no, I’m not dreaming.” He took her hand. “It was all worth it if it could bring you back….”

When Chavala heard the sound of the wagon in the morning’s stillness she quickly got out of bed. Nervously she slipped into her robe, tied the sash around her waist and ran out of the room, down the stairs and across the courtyard to Aaron’s house, where Dovid had been put to bed.

Flinging open the door she asked Aaron, “
Where is he?
”

“In my room…”

She didn’t wait for any reassurance, instead she rushed past Aaron. When she saw Dovid’s face it mattered not at all what he looked like. He was
alive
, and she knew God had sent him back to her.

Quickly she filled a basin of water and put it on the table next to the bed. Pulling back the covers, she called for Aaron, who immediately came into the room. “Help me take off his clothes, and get me some quinine …”

After giving him the medication she washed his quivering body, replaced the bedding, then sat quietly beside the bed and held his hand. She was sure she felt Dovid’s life ebbing away … this was the worst attack he’d ever had. And his condition had deteriorated so badly that it seemed impossible he could sustain it.

For three days and nights she scarcely slept or ate, but eventually, involuntarily, her eyes closed and she fell into a light slumber … Dovid’s voice came to her out of a dream. It seemed to be saying, “Chavala, dearest Chavala, I must have willed myself to live just so I could see your face again …”

She opened her eyes. It had not been a dream. The crisis had passed, and now he lay quite still. He held out his weakened hand to her. Kneeling by his side she caressed his face. “We’re together, my darling,” and she said it over and over, her words watered by tears of gratitude.

For the next week Chavala tended to him like a child. She lavished her love on him, and his heart was nourished by it.