No Time for Tears (45 page)

A bit cruel, Dovid thought, though he also suspected the feelings that were below the surface of Reuven’s words. Still … And Dvora shared his thought … “I think we had better get started, Raizel is waiting,” she said quickly.

Dvora had tried to prepare Chavala, but there were no words to describe Raizel’s grief, or her sons’. She sat silently, like a helpless child.

What could Chavala say? Nothing would bring Raizel comfort. “Raizel, please try to remember the good, the happiness you brought Lazarus, and he brought you … you have your lovely children to live for, Lazarus would want you to remember that…”

“What will I do without him, Chavala? He was my life…”

“He lives in your sons, Raizel, and in your memory of him. And … well, please don’t worry … I mean, I can help,
whatever
you need…”

Raizel finally allowed the tears to come as she embraced her sister.

When they left, Dvora said, “I’m afraid Raizel’s like papa. He never recovered from mama’s death. Well … we’d better get some rest, it’s been a long day.”

When they arrived at the small pension where the family had been staying the last few weeks, they walked to the second floor and stood for a moment in front of Dvora’s room. Dvora kissed Chavala goodnight, and she and Ari, with Pnina, closed the door behind them.

Reuven and Zvi shared a room, but tonight Reuven asked if Joshua could sleep with them. Chavala said yes, but somehow felt vaguely threatened by the request. It was a fear she could not articulate or justify … she decided she was just overtired, worrying about shadows…

But when she found herself alone with Dovid again, the same uneasiness came over her. They said little. When finally she lay by her husband’s side she sensed a distance, and was terrified. But what did she expect? Could a man like Dovid live his life as a celibate? In the darkness Chavala said softly, “Do you hate me, Dovid?”

Silence. Then: “No, I love you, although sometimes I’ve wished I didn’t.”

“I can understand that… I know I’m depriving you of your new son, and myself … but I don’t know what to do…”

“Only you can find the answer, Chavala…”

If only I could, she thought … find a way to fulfill her need to see her family secure, take care of Raizel and her children, and still be with Dovid. How?

“Do you want to be free?”

The question came shockingly to her. It seemed he was asking for
his
freedom … The next thought was too painful to keep to herself… “Dovid …is there someone else?”

“No, but one can’t live alone forever …What about you? You’re a beautiful woman, and one day—”

“Don’t say it, Dovid. Don’t even
think
it There will never be anyone else, you must know that.”

“Time and life can change people. No one can be happy alone.”

“Then
you
want to be free.”

“No, that’s
not
what I want. But what I
don’t
want is ever to be unfaithful to you—”

“Then you’ve met someone—?”

“No, but I’m lonely and being lonely makes one reach out If I met someone I liked, I’m not sure I would not be strong enough to walk away. I’m only human—”

The whole prospect was too much for her. “Dovid, I’m willing to come back, give it all up. I don’t want to even think about you and someone else—”

“You say you’re willing, and at this moment you mean it, I know … but being willing isn’t the answer, darling. You’ll never be able to come back until you can let go. Raizel’s needs, Dvora’s farm, Chia’s and Moishe’s future … They’re still your overwhelming concern. I can’t blame you, I never have. But I won’t pretend I’ve not been bitter at times, driven half out of my mind with wanting you…”

Chavala wept quietly. “Love me, Dovid … love me, please, in spite of myself…”

“I love you for what you are, not in spite of yourself. My God … you’re a very extraordinary woman, Chavala, but for some reason you don’t feel your life belongs to you. You owe too much,
you
think … Love you? Yes, God help us both … I do love you …”

Nothing, of course, was resolved, but then Dovid turned toward her, held her close and proceeded to make love to her, washing away, for the moment, all the uncertainties, resentments, guilts …in the moment of union a singleness that shut out the world and all its diversions….

Since Lazarus’s death the family had been in Jerusalem. Several weeks had passed, and now, with the harvest under way, it was imperative that Dvora’s family return to Kfar Shalom. Chavala felt she would stay on at least a little longer with Raizel.

The morning of departure Reuven made it clear by the way he looked at Joshua that he wanted to spend more time with his brother. He said as much, and in a kind of demanding fashion that Chavala could have done without. Still, she gave in, realizing that the atmosphere at Raizel’s was hardly ideal for Joshua and that he’d be better off at Dvora’s house and with her family. Well at least Dovid would be staying in Jerusalem …

Chavala could barely get through the next week with Raizel and her mourning. When it was simply no longer supportable she told her sister it was time for Dovid to pick her up and take her to Dvora’s, after which, unfortunately, she would be leaving for her home in New York. The final morning, as they sat in the kitchen waiting for Dovid, she said to Raizel as she had so many times before, “Come with me to America, you and the boys. In Brooklyn there’s a community of Chasidim. You’ll feel happy there. Please, Raizel…”

Raizel shook her head. “Chavala, I thank you, you know how grateful I am for what you’ve done for us, but I can never leave Jerusalem … never … who would be here to watch over papa’s and Lazarus’s graves? Besides, this is
our
home, we belong here…”

“Then come with us to Dvora’s for a few days. You’re not sitting
shiva
anymore—”

“The boys say Kaddish.”

“But can’t you get away for a few days? I mean, they’re old enough now and—”

“I know… but I
belong
here … I’m sorry, Chavala …”

Chavala nodded, knowing the answers in advance. At least she would take some money to see her through the next few months, and, Chavala swore to herself, beyond that Raizel would
never
be in need…

During the following week Reuven thought his mother seemed happier at Kfar Shalom than he could ever remember seeing her. Memories of the little house they lived in at Zichron were evoked when he saw her baking bread in Dvora’s kitchen, and he dared hope that, maybe, being here would make her want to stay. For his father’s sake …he’d seen h
o
w much he liked having Joshua here … And each day Reuven took Joshua to the fields with him, wanting his little brother, even at the age of three, to feel the soil, to plant a seed. Joshua was obviously delighted, and none of this went unnoticed by Chavala.

Including how intimate and closely knit the families of the village of Kfar Shalom were. She was proud that her sixteen-year-old Reuven was not only respected and admired but had in fact become a leader among his peers.

On Saturday the family was up earlier than usual. Today they were going to climb to the summit of Mount Tabor. Chavala and Dvora were busy with the preparation of the food as the men were attending to the farm chores. Then shortly before dawn, with their knapsacks on their backs, the journey began. Dressed in their sandals, white shorts and blue tops, Reuven and Zvi took the lead. Even Pnina came along with Joshua. The air was crisp and invigorating in the early morning.

Mount Tabor rose to more than two thousand feet. From time to time as they stooped for food and drink Pnina romped with Joshua while Zvi and Reuven scouted ahead, not because they were unfamiliar with the sights they were about to see but because it was a never-ending source of wonder and beauty.

Along the hillside there were dozens of goatskin tents and in the distance grazing flocks of small black goats. It was four in the afternoon when they reached the large round plateau of Tabor, to the south the entire Jezreel Valley opening before their eyes. For Chavala the sight was staggering … the valley was a symphony of color, in the distance square-cut fields sat like jewels in a setting of green. White clusters of Arab villages dotted the landscape all the way to Mount Carmel, and to the north lay the Sea of Galilee.

Dovid pointed to the place where Gideon was buried and where Saul and Jonathan had fallen in battle to the Philistines. Reuven, obviously deeply affected, broke out into: “Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain upon you nor fields of offerings. For there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul…”

Chavala was understandably impressed, and Dovid proud. “That was beautiful, Reuven,” Chavala said. “You certainly know your Bible—”

“All sabras do. That’s our history book, the Bible.” Then he picked Joshua up so that his brother could see and, he hoped, never forget.

Chavala didn’t miss the message for her. She could be proud of Reuven, but she could also wish he were just a little less
righteous
…

Now they moved beyond the forest until they reached the pinnacle. The remains of ruined Crusader forts stood there, along with a Saracen castle. Finally they reached the campsite. Chavala walked to the eastern rampart and looked out to the valley and the Sea of Galilee. A chill went through her as the mild wind blew through her hair. She stood at the wall and remembered the first time, so many years ago, that Dovid had taken her to what she then considered a place of wilderness and self-imposed exile. But the earth had yielded to Dovid’s dreams, and somehow she stood unfulfilled for her … lack of faith?

Dovid, standing now behind her, brought her back to the moment. “Dovid, what can I say when I look out there and see this land and what you’ve accomplished?”

“It wasn’t what
I
accomplished. I had only a small part—”

“But it was you who saw what this valley could become when you said over and over that it belonged to our people, and managed to acquire so much of it by your own efforts. I’ve hardly been a devout Jew, but I must say, when I stand here and look out to the land there I really feel a sense of God … of what you have felt for so long. I envy you, Dovid …”

Joshua broke into the mood of communion with, “Let’s play ball,
abba
.”

Dovid looked down at the little boy and picked him up and held him close. “Right, big fellow. Let’s go.”

By dusk the boys and girls of Kfar Shalom reached the summit. Immediately a pit was dug, wood was gathered and four lambs were prepared and spitted for roasting. The sun moved down behind the Jezreel Valley and, suddenly, there was a burst of laughter and singing as the fire was lit and the lambs placed over the pit.

After the feast the mountaintop rang with song, and the dancing began. Meir Zeid sat cross-legged, beating the drum made of goatskin. The rhythm of his beat was accompanied by the playing of an ancient Hebrew melody on a reed flute. Each song gave way to a new dance. Against the starlit sky the young dancers cheered and clapped as they sprang into the air, and then half a dozen jumped into the center and started a
hora.
The ring grew larger and larger and the dancing went on for hours until they collapsed in breathless, delighted exhaustion.

As Chavala watched these strong, free sabras, it occurred to her … grandiose though the thought might be … that in their fashion they were the young lions of Judea, the ancient Hebrews reborn. Their faces were the faces of twelve tribes … they were Reuben, Simeon, Judah, Zebulun, Issachar, Dan, Gad, Asher, Naphtali, Benjamin, Ephraim and Manasseh. The strength of God, and His children, was in their young hearts and souls. The comparisons were perhaps too grandiloquent to express, but she deeply felt them at that moment…

Time once again took over Chavala. Never mind whether she wanted to go back, she simply had to. She had her own obligations that pulled her back to a very new and different place. Moishe was waiting for her. Chia. Was she to allow Raizel and the boys to live on the charity of strangers? If indeed even that were available?

“But what about
your
life?” Dvora insisted. Dvora had, of course, prayed that by some miracle Chavala would feel that Eretz Yisroel was where she belonged. But Chavala could not honestly say that was so. Oh yes, she’d felt something special with Dovid and her children looking out over the land, but there was another need, and the pull … Still, one day … “Dvora, with all the dislike I came to Eretz Yisroel with, somehow in the last few days I’ve had the thought that if Dovid and I had a house in the hills of Haifa, and the whole family was free of financial difficulties, well … Palestine could look far different to me than it did looking out of the windows of that hovel we lived in when we first arrived. People change, countries change, and I’ve seen the changes here … yes, Dvora, if that day came it could make all the difference.”

Dvora could only say, “I can only hope your dream will, come to life. You and Dovid deserve it… God knows, you do …”

On her way back to America, Chavala tried to hold to those last words of Dvora … repeated them over and over, as if the repetition itself might make them come true. But as she neared the shores of Manhattan, more pressing reality crowded in … Moishe, Chia, the store … other lives had their claims on her too…

A
ND OTHER LIVES WERE
being lived, and changing, in America, new challenges for Chavala Rabinsky….

On this particular crisp Friday evening in October, after closing the store, Moishe conducted a momentous debate with himself about whether to go home and fix dinner for himself or to eat downtown. A grown man’s kind of decision? The truth was that this short time away from Chavala made him realize that his life had become wrapped up in a neat, small package of routines … days spent behind a cage in the pawnshop, nights roaming about the streets, a movie now and then, an occasional release with a professional woman. The restlessness had been building for some time now. He was thirty-one and suddenly he wanted a home of his own, children. The ex-warrior had damn well better begin now … or forget it, he thought grimly.