Ashes of the Red Heifer (7 page)

Food! Hassan was in trouble and David wanted to eat?

David hurried toward the stand. “If you look like an ordinary person the guards won’t be that interested. We can stroll right past them.”

Annie followed him across a street. She felt jittery as a Thoroughbred in the starting gate. “I thought they were demonstrating in the Old City. Looks quiet to me.”

David directed her to the stand and the spicy smells. “The Temple Mount is still quite a ways from here.”

David held up three fingers to the man behind the stand. He paid the vendor and took the falafel, handing one to Annie. Annie felt a twinge of hunger and the falafel, a combination of crushed chickpeas, tomatoes and cucumbers in pita bread, fried crispy on the outside, made her mouth water. She accepted the vegetable-filled pita and moved away from the stand, antsy to get on her way. “Thanks.”

She set a quick pace and they ate while walking. The sun warmed the streets, but the temperature remained pleasant. Annie wrinkled her nose at the smells of traffic, cooking and so many people living close together. Everywhere she went men gaped at her. As a foreign woman, they seemed to think she was fair game for unabashed staring, licking of lips, even comments. She tried to ignore it, but it made her skin prickle. Jerusalem probably wasn’t worse than any other city, but it wasn’t open prairie.

They came to an intersection with a mosque on one corner and a gas station on another. They hurried past the Garden Tomb, a shaded, rocky garden where many believe Jesus was was entombed before his resurrection.

David stuffed the last of his falafel into his mouth and gulped it down. “I love this city.”

Annie took another bite of her pita, letting the crisp cucumbers and tangy tomatoes fill her mouth. “It’s a city. Can’t see why everyone has to fight over it.”

Annie scowled at a mustached man in a red-checked kayiff, who ran his tongue over his lips in irritating sexual innuendo. She looked around. “Is this the Damascus Gate?”

They walked down wide steps onto a stone courtyard, noisy with activity. The gate opened onto the Muslim Quarter of the Old City. It was a huge stone structure adorned with turrets along the top.

People filled the courtyard, some hurriedly passing through, others stopping to inspect the wares of the street vendors lining the courtyard. The plaza narrowed into the gate and passage into the Old City. Usual sounds of conversation and haggling floated on the thin air. Sunlight dappled the offerings of merchants, arranged on blankets spread on the ground or on portable tables. Several merchants put up colorful umbrellas to shield their wares from the sun. Annie saw everything from legumes and vegetables, to clothing, household goods, copper cookware, jewelry, and flowers. The smell of spices, delicious coffee, Middle Eastern food, dust and sweat wafted around them. It reminded Annie of a giant flea market back home.

Two soldiers watched everything carefully, their guns in plain sight. They listened to a radio alive with an excited commentator. His agitated inflection made Annie nervous, but she couldn’t understand the Hebrew he spoke. It couldn’t be more trouble at the Dome, could it? The people in the plaza didn’t act the least bit jumpy.

The crowds closed around her, body smells more offensive to her than a face full of manure. The constant leers of men made her feel nervous as a cow in a pen full of bulls. “Let’s get moving.”

They reached the cool of the tunnel and passed to the other side into a large plaza filled with more merchants. The narrow walks of the Muslim Quarter seemed more like corridors in a building than sidewalks. The walls on either side rose up covering the passages in shadow.

They walked through congested, narrow streets lined with ancient buildings of sandstone bricks.

“This street is the Via Dolorosa. It supposedly follows the path Jesus took on his way to the crucifixion,” David said.

A chill shook Annie, surprising her. She attributed it to awe at the age of the cobblestones on the street and the history that had passed by the buildings. Or maybe it was the memory of the place itself seeping into her, of violence these streets had seen over the centuries. And the threat that at any moment, more death and pain could explode without warning.

A guard sat in a folding chair along a boarded-up gate in a stone wall. Annie and David kept walking, but his presence stuck in Annie’s mind.

She looked over her shoulder at the guard. “What is he doing there?”

“Probably guarding the entrance to the tunnels.”

“What tunnels?”

“Archaeologists found tunnels running under the Temple Mount. Some are water systems that ran to the Second Temple so they could wash the altar after sacrifices. These tunnels run under the Old City and under the Temple Mount. A few years ago, guards on the Mount heard a noise in a cistern and when they investigated, they found faithful Jews digging, trying to recover vessels from the Second Temple.” He took a breath and his voice hardened. “It ended up in a huge riot. Eighty people died. The Israeli government ordered the tunnels sealed and guarded.”

Excavations revealing ancient structures along with new construction made the Old City look like a work in progress. Old and new mixed amid occasional palm and cypress trees, hanging baskets of flowers and the ever-present crowds and dust.

“I can understand how a stretch of real estate can be important but it seems ridiculous that so many people are losing their lives over land their religion tells them is holy.”

David looked serious. “The Temple Mount is the holiest place on earth. It’s not about sticks and stones, it’s about God’s honor. The irony is that the Temple Mount is the one place, as a Jew, I’m obligated to pray and yet, it is the one place in the world where I can’t pray.”

“Hassan said you can’t go up on the Temple Mount, why is that?”

David rolled his eyes. “There is a misunderstanding about that, even among many Orthodox Jews. Anyone, even a corpse, can touch many places on the Mount. Different areas require certain rituals for Jews to be in compliance with Commandments. The only place where a Jew can’t stand is the Holy of Holies. We aren’t ritually clean. The reason we can’t pray on the Temple Mount is because the Muslims won’t allow it. It’s not against Israeli law but I would be arrested for bowing down or even uttering a simple Jewish prayer.”

“Why is that?”

David looked at her. “Because the Muslims know the power of Jewish prayer and it scares them. Our secular leaders are afraid of upsetting the Muslims so they kowtow to them. The leaders just don’t understand what God demands of us. They don’t recognize their heritage.”

“So where is this Holy of Holies?”

“It’s the spiritual and creative center of the world. The naval of the world they say. It sits under the hideous and gaudy Dome of the Rock.”

“The place is obviously important or holy to the Muslims, too. Doesn’t look like they’re doing it any harm.”

David stopped walking for a moment. “Harm? A casual tourist won’t see remnants of the First or Second Temple on the grounds. That’s because Muslims have systematically been removing any trace. They didn’t build the Dome over the sacred foundation stone for any religious reasons. They did it to hide the Jewish holy site. They’ve excavated a vast area under the south plaza and made a huge underground mosque. They hauled out stones from the Second Temple and tossed them in a garbage heap with other trash to make them hard to find. They’ve destroyed water chambers and arches and tried to wipe out any evidence of Jewish claim to the Mount.”

“I can’t believe the Ministry of Antiquities would allow this. Remember how picky they were when the kibbutz farmers wanted to dig another well?”

“As I said, the Israeli government is afraid of offending the Muslims. But believe me, the Muslims have a great deal of fear of the Jews.”

“You’ve got me spooked right now,” she quipped.

David remained uncharacteristically serious. “Many Jews believe the Messiah will enter the Temple Mount from the Mercy Gate.”

“Where is that?”

“On the northeast corner. The Muslims were so worried about that, they sealed up the gate. Not only that, they planted a cemetery outside the gate to assure that the Messiah couldn’t enter through there without being contaminated by death.”

“You Jews sure have a thing about touching death.”

David gave her the first smile in a long time. “Judaism is not a religion of death but of life. That’s why coming in contact with death is such a negative thing.”

“I’m not big on death myself.”

David’s anger returned. “Do you know who is buried in the cemetery outside the Mercy Gate?”

Do I care? she wanted to say but kept her mouth shut. In her experience, religious frothing usually ended up with a belt across the back or an open palm slapped into her cheek.

But he was on a roll. “Only suicide bombers. If you died killing Jews, you can be honored with burial there. Maybe Hassan’s brother is there.”

She stopped, sudden anger making her struggle to keep her voice even. “Look, I don’t want to hear all this propaganda. Hassan is my friend and I have to help him.”

The crowds were getting thicker and even less polite. People bumped and jostled Annie, adding to her nerves.

“Hassan is my friend, too, you know. But the truth is Hassan is sworn to kill me. His mission as a faithful Muslim is to destroy infidels wherever he finds them. That includes you, too.”

“Don’t make me choose between you and Hassan.” Annie’s anger surged through her to the tips of her fingers, which she clenched into a fist. She spun away from David and pounded down the street. She was as angry with herself as with him. Hadn’t she just been making that choice earlier? She’d told Hassan she was getting ready to love David. How stupid that seemed now. If anyone wanted a place in her life, they’d have to accept Hassan, too.

David caught up with her. “I’m trying to warn you. To protect you.”

“I’m trying to get away from you,” she said.

“There is a plaque on the Temple Mount. A marble shaft on a prayer platform that calls for the destruction of Jews. In Israel, in Jerusalem, on the most holy place in all Judaism, the Muslims call for us to die. That is the friend you’ve sworn allegiance to.”

She elbowed her way to the gate to Al Aksa, wanting to put her fist into David’s mouth to shut him up. But isn’t that the same mouth she wanted desperately to kiss? Man, she really hated it when religion messed up her life.

She waited for David and tried to let go of her anger. “You feel strongly about this. But I’ve got even stronger feelings about Hassan. I’m going to help him. With you or without you.”

He looked at her for a long moment. His voice lost some of its tension. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Should she apologize? She didn’t want to walk away when there was rift between them. But his religious talk torqued her off. Still, she ached for a touch or kiss to give her courage. But then, she had survived without him all this time, she’d get through this, too.

Annie walked through the impossibly tall gates into the Al Aksa compound suddenly feeling very alone and vulnerable.

SEVEN

       She entered the gate, carried along with a crowd of mostly young men. She endured the same crude leers as before but most of the men seemed distracted and nervous. The gate opened into a wide walkway of paving stones. Trees and sparse grass lined the curbed sides of the promenade. A surprising number of buildings filled the compound, as if the area enclosed by the tall walls was a village of its own.

She walked along with the crowd and then she saw it. The golden cupola of the Dome of the Rock. It glittered in the blazing desert sun, reflecting glory to the heavens. The sides held an intricate tile mosaic in blues and white. As far as buildings went, this one was magnificent.

“Annie.” Hassan’s voice wasn’t loud but she picked it out immediately.

She spotted him on a bench under a cedar tree. She hurried to him, noting he sat slumped slightly as if protecting his sore ribs. “How are you?”

He smiled weakly. “I can’t remember when I’ve been better.”

“How did you get out of the hospital? What are you doing here? How are we going to fix this? Should you turn yourself over to the U.S. embassy?”

He held up his hand to stop her tumble of words. “Don’t worry, Annie. I am in good hands. I’ll be fine. The important thing is protecting you.”

“Me?”

He gestured to the surroundings. “I’m sorry about meeting here. I thought it would take us out of view of the police and we’d be in friendly territory. But I didn’t know about the disturbances.”

Too many agitated people gathered here. “Let’s go to the embassy.”

His face grew serious. “The bombing at the kibbutz was no mistake. You’re in terrible danger.”

His face with its bruises and bandaged nose looked painful. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and soothe his pain. “They may have bombed the kibbutz but they aren’t after you or me.”

“The Silim didn’t bomb the kibbutz.”

It didn’t matter to her who dropped the bomb. They’d hurt Hassan and halted the research. What mattered was how Annie would fix it. “I don’t want to argue about this.”

Hassan’s kind face wrinkled in concern. “There are some things you need to understand so you’ll believe me about the danger you’re in.”

“Can we focus on how we’re going to prove you aren’t a member of Silim and how you didn’t try to kill me? Once you’re free we can figure out everything else.”

He sighed and looked up, giving himself a moment. He brought his head down and focused his swollen eyes on Annie. “I am a member of the Silim.”

The words slapped her. Her mouth opened but no sound came out.

He put a hand on hers. “But we didn’t bomb the kibbutz. The Jews did that for some reason I can’t understand.”

Anger curdled her stomach. Confusion knotted with pain and she finally looked at him. “When did you join the Silim? How long have you lied to me?”

His face looked tender. “I’ve always been part of the Silim. Meeting you wasn’t an accident. I was sent to protect you.”