The Gates of Zion (30 page)

Ellie pulled out her camera and began snapping pictures as the men filed out of the transport one by one to be searched.

“I wouldn’t do that!” the sergeant snarled at her.

“And who’s going to say I can’t?” Ellie focused on the thin girl in the British car and snapped the shutter.

The sergeant backed off and chewed his lip, then rubbed his hand over his cheek nervously. “I told you I’m just doin’ as ordered.” He looked the group of travelers over. “You can get back in now. And that goes for you, too,” he said to Ellie.

The heavyset woman stepped forward and asked with dignity, “Where are you taking the girl?”

“Latrun. Headquarters,” he answered curtly. “Now get in.”

“No. I shall go with her to your headquarters. That is in Arab territory. We shall see what your superiors have to say about this.”

She turned solemnly to Ellie. “Would you like to photograph our arrest?” She smiled and climbed into the British car as Ellie snapped several more pictures.

“Suit yourself.” The sergeant slammed the door. “If you’re with her and she had an illegal weapon, then I ought to arrest the whole lot of you.”

Ellie snapped his picture, then smiled a bit too brightly at his irritated expression before she waved at the woman and the thin girl and climbed back into the transport. The doors clanged shut behind her as she took her seat, still furious over the search. Each of the men patted her back as she passed and chorused congratulations.

“What will happen to the women?” she asked in dismay.

“Don’t worry.” Moshe smiled knowingly. “They’ll make it to Tel Aviv.”

“How do you know that? They’re being taken to Latrun.”

“Didn’t you recognize the lady who went with the girl?”

“No.”

“You just shot a roll of film covering the arrest of Golda Meir, Ben-Gurion’s right hand at the Jewish Agency. That ought to make a cover story.” Moshe laughed. “I’d hate to see what they do to the sergeant when she pulls out her papers.”

“What about the girl with the gun?” The transport lurched forward.

“Golda will not leave her alone. And the British are usually proper when it comes to women. That’s why there are women guards on our convoys. A Jewish man caught with a weapon even for defense would be hanged.”

Ellie nodded, still enraged at the unfairness of the policy. “That was Golda Meir?” she asked, hardly able to believe that such a high-ranking member of the Jewish Agency would put her life on the line so readily. “She seems so―”

“Like a nice Jewish grandmother?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And so she is. Jewish grandmothers like her have helped our people survive for two thousand years.” He grinned.

“I can see why.” Ellie shook her head in amazement.

The occupants of the transport began to sing once again as they passed through Latrun and Sarafand. It seemed to Ellie that they bellowed even louder as they drove along the outskirts of the British military base. The tune they sang was called “HaTikvah”—“The Hope”—and though Ellie could not understand the words, she
felt
them in the voices of her companions. There was one hope they all lived for―a homeland.

When at last they arrived at the Tel Aviv bus terminal, Ellie had learned most of the words of “HaTikvah” and was harmonizing with her clear alto voice as Moshe sang bass and the little man joined with the Sabra to sing the melody in tenor.

“Just like singing in the shower.” Ellie laughed. “Sounds terrific.”

“Maybe we should sing on Broadway in
South Pacific
, eh?” said the little man with an accent decidedly that of a New Yorker.

“Maybe you should just make your homeland in the South Pacific somewhere. It would sure be easier than this.” Ellie gathered her belongings as the Sabra opened the doors and the interior flooded with light.

“I always thought Tahiti would have been a nice place for a Yeshiva school.” Moshe jumped out and extended a hand to help her down.

The little man followed, still talking. “As long as it was for Hasidim.

So when the Yeshiva boys saw the girls in grass skirts, they could say, ‘Ha see dem!’”

Everyone groaned, and the Sabra tapped his finger to his temple and shook his head. “You are a meshuggener, Arazi. A crazy man.”

“That’s why I’m here with you, right?” Arazi grinned.

Moshe whispered loudly into Ellie’s ear, “An old joke.”

“After four thousand years, how many new Jewish jokes can there be?” The little man guffawed and punched Moshe on the arm, then extended his hand. “Good luck to you both.
Mazel tov.
” He winked at Ellie. “I’ll buy a copy of your magazine.” He turned and followed the Sabra across the lobby of the bus station.

Ellie watched their retreating forms, then gazed up at Moshe. “Crazy people in this thing.”

“It helps to be something of a lunatic. It could get depressing otherwise.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “And now you will meet the biggest meshuggener in Palestine.” He led her out onto the street and scanned the bustling, frantic traffic until he spotted a battered, rattling, black hulk of an automobile weaving wildly through the other cars. It screeched to a halt at the curb. Ehud climbed out of the window on the driver’s side, shouting curses at another car that passed and turned the corner.

“Maniac!” he yelled, shaking his hairy fist. He stuck out his lower lip and seemed to growl. Then, still glaring at the last spot he had seen the car, he stomped toward Moshe and Ellie muttering, “Must have worked for the Führer.”

“This,” Moshe said sheepishly, “will be your host, Ehud Schiff.”

Ehud saw Ellie standing next to Moshe and instantly his demeanor changed. “Ahh!” His eyes lit up, and he took her hand and bent to kiss it. “You are the Miss Ellie Warne we have heard so much of. Ah yes, Moshe, she is beautiful. Beautiful indeed, as you have often said.”

Laughing, Ellie shook Ehud’s meaty hand. “Well, Moshe has not even told me about you. Until now, that is.” She looked wonderingly at Moshe. “We are riding with Ehud?”

“I am afraid so,” he said with mock seriousness.

“Ah, that—” Ehud gestured toward the now-vanished enemy automobile— “that car you saw? Refused to move when I wanted to change lanes.”

“Ehud thinks the highways are like the seas.” Moshe took Ellie’s duffel bag and threw it through the window of Ehud’s car. “That is why the doors of his automobile will not open. They are crushed shut. I shall drive, Ehud. This lady is much too important for me to lose her on the streets of Tel Aviv.”

Ehud pouted briefly, then tugged his beard and climbed into the car through the window. “As you wish, Moshe. So get in already; my darling waits for us at the waterfront.”

Ellie climbed in awkwardly after him and sat wedged between his massive frame and the door of the car as Moshe pulled into traffic.

“Are you all set?” Moshe asked.

“Oh yes, I am. But my darling
Maria
, my love, she is not feeling well.”

“What seems to be the matter?” Concern was etched on Moshe’s face.

“She is simply at that age, you know. I fear I shall have to someday get rid of her.”

Ellie tried not to register shock. She leaned forward to see Moshe’s expression as Ehud spoke about his beloved and her potential demise. To her dismay, Moshe did not seem to think that there was anything unusual about Ehud’s conversation. “Has anyone checked her?” she asked, trying to be helpful.

“To be sure.” Ehud nodded solemnly. “But he was such a greasy fellow. Lacked the sensitivity a lady requires, so I myself have taken care of her. An occasional kick in the right place when she becomes contrary―”

“Don’t you think you should call someone more qualified?” Ellie asked as they rounded a corner and pulled onto the dock.

“I have been her master these twenty-five years!” Ehud exclaimed.

“Sweet
Maria
would have no one but me. Who could know her half so well?”

“But you can’t just get rid of her!” Ellie protested. “Not after twenty-five years.”

Moshe began to chuckle as he set the brake and climbed out onto the wood-planked dock.

“Ah, there you see her. Is she not a vision?” Ehud pointed out the window of the car as he waited for Ellie to climb out.

Ellie searched the waterfront and saw no one but two old fishermen scraping barnacles off a dry-docked hulk and another young man mending nets on the deck of an old trawler. “Where?”

Moshe poked his head in the passenger window. “Do you need help getting out?” he asked Ellie.

She rolled her eyes and made a face as if to ask which asylum Ehud had escaped from. “Where is Maria? I don’t see anybody female out there,” she said to Moshe as Ehud climbed out the driver’s side.

“I suppose it depends on one’s perspective.” Moshe pointed to the ancient, weather-scarred trawler moored in a row with several others. “That,” he said, “is Ehud’s beloved.”

Ellie squinted and puckered her face as she read the barely visible red letters on the chipping white paint:
Ave Maria
. A flush of relief and embarrassment crept to her cheeks. “I thought … ,” she whispered hoarsely.

Moshe laughed and offered Ellie his hand. “An easy mistake to make.”

Ehud joined them and gazed dreamily at the little ship. “She was so beautiful in her younger days―my little darling.” Then he hastened to add, “But surely not half so beautiful as you, sweet lady.”

“Watch out, my friend,” Moshe warned. “
Maria
will be jealous.”

Ehud put a thick finger to his lips, “Quite so, quite so. She is so sensitive.” He walked toward the little trawler.

Ellie leaned close to Moshe, tugging on his shirtfront until he leaned his ear down to her lips. “Is he serious?” she asked with alarm at the thought of going with him.

“Quite so, quite so,” Moshe repeated mischievously. “I told you, meshuggener, eh? But there is none in these waters with half so big a heart. Come along.” He walked after Ehud toward the deck of the trawler. “We have a long way to go before nightfall.”

***

Seagulls circled overhead in the clear blue sky, and only a faint breeze ruffled Ellie’s hair as she stood on deck, waiting for the ship to get under way. Tiny waves lapped the sides of the
Ave Maria
, and sunlight on the water reflected against her hull. Cables and nets cluttered the deck. Ellie studied the row of moored fishing vessels and found little about the
Ave
Maria
to distinguish her from the other ships at port.

When Ellie commented that there was no way of telling that she was not an ordinary boat, Ehud nodded. “It is her heart.” He patted the wheel. “God has been with us, surely.”

“She carries the children of Abraham well for her age,” Moshe said.

“Like Sarah?” Ellie asked. “Maybe you ought to call your next boat
Sarah
. She was ninety when she had her first child.”

Ehud’s face clouded, and he stroked
Maria
’s wheel. “You shall wound her if you speak so. Pay no mind, my love,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you go on deck until we are under way?”

Ellie left the wheelhouse amused―until the engine refused to turn over and only moaned in response to Ehud’s coaxing.

“Now see,” he shouted to Ellie from the wheelhouse, “you have hurt her feelings!” Ehud cursed and clanked belowdecks in the engine room until at last the stubborn engine sighed and turned over with a roar.

Ellie sat on a pile of rope and watched as Moshe cast off the lines.

The old hulk shuddered in reverse into the harbor, then lunged forward out past the seawall into the serene blue of the Mediterranean. Gulls cried and followed after them in hopes that they would find fish to catch and share. Ehud occasionally glowered at her, and Ellie felt intimidated enough that she stayed on deck until at last Moshe joined her with two mugs of coffee in his hands.

“I said the wrong thing.” Ellie grimaced. “He doesn’t like me, I’m afraid.”

“He’ll get over it.” Moshe handed her a mug. “Drink this.”

“He’s a little strange, isn’t he? I mean, the boat and everything.”

“This

boat
is
everything. He lost his own family in the camps―sisters, brothers, and a young wife early on in the war. He’s a good man. He has defied the blockade a hundred times. Sixty-seven thousand Jews have been caught trying to get into Palestine in spite of the Mandate. The
Ave Maria
has been stopped and searched a dozen times, but never with passengers on board. Ehud is right.

There is something special about the old girl.”

“What happens to the ones who are caught?”

“They are still behind barbed wire on the island of Cyprus. The British keep them there so as not to arouse the wrath of the Mufti.”

Ellie inhaled the steam of her coffee, then sipped the hot brew.

“Looks to me like the Mufti is plenty mad already.” She gazed steadily at Moshe. “What would happen to you if you were caught?”

“Up to now we have only smuggled human contraband. We would be tried and imprisoned. Smuggling weapons means execution.”

“They would kill you for that? Weapons for defense?”

“Many of us have died already.” Moshe took a sip of his coffee.

Ellie thought about all the things she had accused him of. She took Moshe’s hand and stared out across the sea as the skyline of Tel Aviv began to shrink and disappear. “I said a lot of things to you that were wrong. I didn’t know you had put everything on the line for this.”

“How could you have known?” He lifted her chin. “I would have been a fool had I let anyone know.”

“I’m … I don’t want to be just anyone to you, Moshe. Would you forgive me for the things I said?”

“Even as you said them you were forgiven, my little
shiksa
.” He kissed her on the cheek. “But in many ways you are still a child―impatient with those who do not see the world your way. Yet, at the same moment, your eyes have only just been opened.”

Ellie lowered her eyes and stared at the coil of rope just in front of where they sat. “You think I am insensitive?”

“On the contrary. I believe you feel”―he waved his hand toward the unbroken horizon―“everything. But there is more to truth than simply feeling. Just as there is more to love than feeling. Do you understand?”