The Book of Trees by Leanne Lieberman

Author:Leanne Lieberman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2010-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

Shabbos morning we went to Dan and Leah’s shul. In the afternoon Dan and Leah lay down for a nap. Aviva sat next to me on the balcony, reading a novel. I found a bible in Dan and Leah’s living room and flipped through to the section about the Ammonites.

I read for a while, and then I closed the book and looked out over the desert. No wonder the army could plant trees over Arab villages or knock down Arab houses. It was in the Torah; modern Israel fulfilled biblical prophecy. I felt sick to my stomach.

I shuddered and leaned my head back. I couldn’t stay with these people any longer. Aviva and I were supposed to hang out until Shabbos ended—five more hours. I tapped my feet on the concrete patio and twisted in the hard plastic lawn chair. I stood up abruptly. “I think I’m going to get going.”

Aviva looked up sleepily. “Huh?”

“I feel kinda anxious to go home. I think I’ll just head back to the dorm.”

Aviva sat up. “You’re going to walk in this heat?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“What should I tell Dan and Leah?”

“Oh, just tell them I felt sick or something.”

I quickly retreated from the balcony, leaving Aviva staring after me.

Down on the street, the sun scorched the pavement, but I felt relieved. I walked down the hill toward the Hyatt Hotel. Four o’clock Saturday afternoon and no one knew where I was. I wondered what Andrew was doing. Playing guitar? Drinking a beer? A slightly exhilarated feeling took over me. Too bad it was Shabbos and I could only get places on foot. I stopped in the shade of a bus stop to look at the view. Below me stretched East Jerusalem and then the Old City. The Dome of the Rock gleamed in the midday sun. What if you were Palestinian and you fled in 1948 and you never got to come back and see this view again? My heart felt pinched, imagining it.

Why hadn’t I ever jogged through East Jerusalem? Even the bus from downtown took a circuitous route through West Jerusalem. Was East Jerusalem really that dangerous? It didn’t look that way from here. I fished in my backpack for my map. I studied the streets and then stuck the map in my pocket. I hesitated a moment. Aviva would have a fit if she knew I walked there, yet I wanted to see what it was like. I’d head straight down to the Old City, just to check things out. I took a swig from my water bottle and headed downhill.

East Jerusalem’s quiet streets of apartment blocks and high-fenced buildings had an unkempt, shabby appearance. A thin dog missing patches of fur followed me for a block before disappearing into an abandoned lot. Pink and yellow plastic bags snagged the fences and clung to the corridor of the road like icing on a dry cake. I stopped at a rough-looking gas station, unsure which way to go. Around me buses spewed exhaust.

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