“Would it!” Karen broke into a broad grin.
“Fine. I’ll try to arrange it so you skip the agriculture work and report right to my office after school.”
Karen sobered. “Well, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem quite fair to the others.”
“As we say in American, they won’t be losing a farmer, they’ll be gaining a nurse.”
“Kitty, I have a terrible confession to make. Don’t tell the Youth Aliyah, the Zion Settlement Society, or the Central Kibbutz Movement but honest, I’m the worst farmer at Gan Dafna and I’d just love to be a nurse.”
Kitty got up and walked to Karen and put her arm about the girl’s shoulder. “Do you suppose that with Yona gone you would like to move into my cottage and live with me?”
The instantaneous look of happiness on Karen’s face was all the answer that Kitty needed.
Kitty left Dr. Lieberman’s cottage early to give Karen the good news. Dr. Lieberman had considered their duty to dispense love and not rules and decided the cause would not be hurt with one less farmer and one more nurse.
When she left Karen she crossed the center green and stopped before the statue of Dafna. She felt that she had hurt Dafna tonight, she had won a victory. With Karen near her she could keep the child from becoming an aggressive, angry sabra girl. It was good to live with a purpose, Kitty knew. But too much purpose could destroy womanliness. She had hit Jordana in a weak spot and she knew it. Since birth Jordana had been given a mission to carry out without question, at the price of her own personal happiness, career, and femininity. Jordana did not know how to compete with the elegant women coming into Palestine from the Continent and from America. She hated Kitty because she wanted to be more like Kitty and Kitty knew it.
“Kitty?” A voice called out in the darkness.
“Yes?”
“I hope I didn’t startle you.”
It was Ari. As he came near her she felt that same now-familiar sensation of helplessness.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get up to see you. Jordana gave you my messages?”
“Jordana? Yes, of course,” Kitty lied.
“How are you getting along?”
“Fine.”
“I came up to ask you if you would care to take the day off tomorrow. A Palmach group is going to climb Mount Tabor. It is something that should not be missed. Would you come with me?”
“Yes, I’d love to.”
CHAPTER FIVE: Ari and Kitty arrived at the kibbutz of Beth Alonim-the House of the Oaks-at the foot of Mount Tabor, shortly after dawn. It was the kibbutz which gave birth to the Palmach during the war and the place Ari had trained troops.
Tabor was odd: not high enough to be a real mountain but far too high to be a hill. It stood in the middle of flatlands arising suddenly in the shape of a thumb poking through the earth.
After breakfast at the kibbutz Ari rolled a pair of packs with rations, canteen, and blankets and drew a Sten gun from the arsenal. He planned to hike up ahead of the rest of the group during the morning hours when it was cool. The air was crisp and invigorating and Kitty was charged with the spirit of adventure. They passed through the Arab village of Dabburiya at the opposite base of Tabor from Beth Alonim and took up a narrow dirt path. Within moments they could see Nazareth in the hills several kilometers away. It stayed cool and their progress was fast, although Kitty realized her first view was deceptive. Tabor rose, to more than two thousand feet; it was going to be a long day. Dabburiya grew smaller and began to look quaint as they put distance between themselves and the village.
Suddenly Ari stopped, and tensed.
“What is it?”
“Goats. Can you smell them?”
Kitty sniffed. “No, I don’t smell anything.”
Ari’s eyes narrowed. He scanned the path ahead. It circled out of sight and there was a very gentle slope off to the blind side.
“Probably Bedouins. There was a report about them at the kibbutz. They must have moved in since yesterday. Come on.”
Around the turn they saw a dozen haired goatskin tents along the hillside and a flock of little black goats grazing around them. Two rifle-bearing nomads came up to them.
Ari spoke to them in Arabic, then followed them to the largest of the tents, which obviously belonged to the sheik. Kitty looked around. They seemed the dregs of humanity. The women were encased in black robes-and layers of dirt. She was not able to smell the goats but she was able to smell the women. Chains of Ottoman coins formed veils over their faces. The children wore dirty rags.
A grizzled individual emerged from the tent and exchanged greetings with Ari. They conversed a moment, then Ari whispered to Kitty. “We must go in or he will be insulted. Be a good girl and eat whatever he offers you. You can throw it up later.”
The inside of the tent stank even more. They sat down on goat-hair and sheep-wool rugs and exchanged amenities. The sheik was impressed that Kitty came from America and relayed the information that he once owned a photograph of Mrs. Roosevelt.
Courses of food came. A greasy lamb leg was thrust into Kitty’s hand together with marrow mixed with rice. Kitty nibbled, the sheik watched expectantly. She smiled weakly and nodded to convey how delicious it was. Unwashed fruits were served, and the meal was ended with thick, sick-eningly sweet coffee in cups so filthy they were crusted. The diners wiped hands on trousers and mouths with sleeves, and after a bit more conversation Ari begged leave.
They left the camp behind. Kitty emitted a long and loud sigh. “I feel sorry for them,” she said.
“Please don’t. They are quite sure they are the freest men on earth. Didn’t you ever see The Desert Song when you were a girl?”
“Yes, but now I know the composer never saw a Bedouin camp. What were you two men gabbing about?”
“I told him to behave tonight and not try to collect any rings and watches from the Palmach.”
“And what else?”
“He wanted to buy you. He offered me six camels.”
“Why, that old devil. What did you tell him?”
“I told him that anyone could see you were a ten-camel girl.” Ari glanced at the rising sun. “It’s going to get hot from now on. We’d better get out of these heavy clothes and pack them.”
Kitty wore a pair of the traditional blue shorts from the Gan Dafna stores.
“Damn, you look just like a sabra.”
They followed the trail which wove along the southern face of Tabor. Both of them perspired as the sun beat down; The trail broke in frequent places and they were forced to climb. Ari’s strong hands led Kitty up the steep inclines. By
late afternoon they had passed the two-thousand-foot mark.
The entire top of Tabor was a large, rounded plateau. The south edge of the plateau opened the entire Jezreel Valley to their eyes. It was a staggering sight. Kitty could follow the Jezreel, the square-cut fields, the splashes of green around the Jewish settlements, and the white clusters of Arab villages all the way to Mount Carmel and the Mediterranean. In the other direction was the Sea of Galilee, so that the entire width of Palestine was below them. Through field glasses Kitty followed Ari’s pointing out Ein Dor where Saul met the witch and the bald top of Mount Gilboa where Gideon was buried and Saul and Jonathan fell in battle to the Philistines.
“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…”
Kitty lowered the glasses. “Why Ari, you are poetic.”
“It is the altitude. Everything is so removed from up here. Look over there-Beth Shean Valley. Beth Shean tel holds the oldest civilized city in the world. David knows more about these than I do. There are hundreds of tels around Palestine. He says that if we were to start excavating them now our modern cities would be ruins by the time we are finished. You see, Palestine is the bridge of history here and you are standing on the center of the bridge. Tabor has been a battleground since men made axes out of stone. The Hebrews stood against the Romans here and between the Crusaders and the Arabs it changed hands fifty times. Deborah hid here with her army and swooped down on the Canaanites. The battleground of the ages … You know what we say? … that Moses should have walked the tribes for another forty years and found a decent place.”