The Threshing Floor by Ray Bentley && Bodie Thoene

Author:Ray Bentley && Bodie Thoene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NewTypePublishing

12

The big bouquet was the last thing Jack bought in the Mahane Yehuda Market. One more item to carry was almost a bridge too far. Both arms overflowing, he made his way through the bustling Old City Jerusalem lanes to Bette’s flat.

High, stone walls, pierced by an ornate iron gate, surrounded the two-story apartment building which was tucked away in a pedestrian lane near Christ Church. Juggling bags of bread and fresh fruit and at least two of every variety of edible thing he knew she liked, Jack used his elbow to ring the entrance buzzer. A metal mezuzah hung on the left pillar.

Bette’s cheerful Israeli accent greeted him over the speaker, “What’s all this?”

He grinned sheepishly around the flowers into the security camera. “I came by way of the souk.”

“Crazy American tourist,” she laughed. “A girl can never have too many flowers.” The bolt clicked and allowed entry into a cool garden where a carved stone fountain was surrounded by exuberant blooms identical to those in Jack’s bouquet.

A mosaic table with two wrought-iron chairs and a striped blue umbrella was set for lunch beside the water. Jack paused a moment to take in Bette’s world.

She emerged from the building carrying a tray of sandwiches and a bottle of chilled white wine. Her face was still too thin, and her pace was still too slow, even after long weeks of specialized physical therapy in Tel Aviv.

“Welcome home.”

“Jack! What have you done?”

“I couldn’t come without a homecoming gift. Groceries. From the souk.”

She set the tray on the table and gave him a peck on the cheek. “If you’re going to shop like an Israeli you must have a shopping trolley. You know, the bag with the wheels so you can fill it up and pull it along after.” Taking the bouquet, she pretended to be impressed. “Thank you, my friend.”

He didn’t like it that she called him friend. Not after all they had been through together. “So maybe it is possible for a girl to have too many flowers?”

“Never. These will be for my kitchen table. Perfect. Come on then, bring your groceries inside. It isn’t much, but it is home.”

He followed her into the foyer. The Jerusalem stone floor was worn but ageless. Jack guessed this was one of the ancient buildings occupied by Old City Jews before their expulsion in 1948. Many structures had been rebuilt following the 1967 war, when the Old City was recaptured by the Israelis after nineteen years of Jordanian occupation. Eight mailboxes with combination locks set into the wall were vintage. Bette’s flat was the first door on the left in the ground floor corridor.

She smiled over her shoulder. “I was so afraid I would have to give this place up. Stairs, you know. So steep. It’s tiny, but I love it.” She remained in the hall as he entered. “Put the bags on the table.”

The living space was open to a small kitchen with a 1950’s range, a pale green retro refrigerator, and a microwave.

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