“Debbie,” she said. “I thought you were in Israel, that you moved there, lived there permanently. I’ve been wondering about you, and, of course, about all the other poor Israelis we knew, but I really have been wondering whether you were okay. Debbie, you did live in Tel Aviv, didn’t you? To tell you the truth, I assumed you were dead. I’ve included you in my prayers. I said your name when I lit the candles. Debbie, it’s nice, nice to hear your voice.”
“Sarah, it’s nice to hear your voice, too. You can’t imagine how nice it is to hear a familiar voice. And yes, I am alive. It’s a long story, a very, very long story. I can tell you most of it but not all of it. Yes, I was in Israel. I was there pretty recently, when the, you know, thing happened. And, obviously, I did escape. But there is so much more to it than that. Sarah, I’m in Maine. I looked at a map. I’m on the coast north of Portland by probably a few hours’drive.
“Sarah, I know it’s asking a lot and I know I am the one who stopped calling you, but, Sarah, this is so important. Could you possibly drive up to where I am? I don’t have a car. I don’t really have a place to stay. Please come, and I’d like it if Abram could come, too. I’m in a small town called, of all things, Brooklin, near Blue Hill. Do you have any idea where it is?”
“I know where it is, Debbie. Abram and I attended a fundraiser at somebody’s vacation house there. It was somebody important. Not the kind of somebody you’d expect to find in a little town like that in Maine, but you’d be surprised who vacations around here sometimes.”
“Sarah, what I have to discuss is important too.”
“Look, I’d like to see you, but Abram and I are very busy with what’s going on in Boston. They’re rounding up our people and jailing them like war criminals. It’s frightening. I never thought I’d see this in the United States.”
“Sounds horrible, but this is important for our cause and our people. Please, just trust me.”
Sarah told Reuben to hold on so that she could consult with her husband. A couple minutes later she said they would make the drive.
“Debbie, swear to me that you’re not a government agent. Swear to me this isn’t some sort of setup.”
“I swea, Sarah. We’re on the same side now,” Reuben said.
Reuben and Levi sat inconspicuously at a corner table at the Brooklin Inn. Both felt disoriented. For one thing, the table was not rocking from side to side, and they had an actual wine list to choose from.
“How we gonna pay for this?” Levi asked.
“No worries,” Reuben said. “I have this.” She flashed an American Express Card. “And I have these.” She opened her purse. At the bottom were gold coins.
“Those aren’t shekels,” he said.
“Krugerrands,” she answered. “Gold coins. Part of the national treasure of Israel, I suppose. There was a box of them back at… at that place I left. I took a few just in case.”
“How many makes up a few?” Levi asked. “And what are they worth in real money, in dollars?”
“As many as I could stuff into my bag. That’s why my duffel was so heavy. As to what they’re worth, to tell you the truth, I’ve got no idea. I expect Abram Goldhersh will be able to tell us what solid gold goes for now, being in the jewelry business and all.”
They sat nearly an hour, sipping on wine and apologizing to the waiter. Finally, Sarah and Abram arrived.
Reuben leaped to her feet. Levi rose slowly, hesitating about whether it was proper.
“Sarah. Abram. How wonderful to see you.”
“Sorry,” Sarah said. “Turns out Brooklin was a bit farther away than I remembered. But here we are.”
“Hello, Debbie,” Abram said flatly. He never was a great fan of his wife’s former college friend—not when Reuben was a TV reporter in New York and not even after she’d moved to Israel. In fact, once she turned up as a member of a coalition Israeli government, a coalition not fully supportive of the settlements in the West Bank, Abram was ashamed to tell friends in the movement that he knew her.
The Goldberg-Goldhershes waited throughout dinner for any explanation of why they were summoned. In fact, besides introducing Levi as “my friend,” Reuben said almost nothing about the man she was obviously closely involved with. Abram puzzled over Levi’s accent. His English was excellent, almost good enough to pass as an American, but there were occasional hints that Goldhersh recognized as Israeli.
Sarah, who after two years sharing the same sorority room truly did know Reuben well, could not figure out what the involvement was between Levi and Reuben. They touched, seemingly by accident and only occasionally, but when they did they lingered, if only for the barest hesitation. Sarah guessed, accurately, that Debbie herself did not know where the relationship was or where she wanted it to go.
Mostly, they talked about what happened in Boston, about the ships, the refugees fleeing in the middle of the night, and then about the arrests, thousands of refugees and thousands of American Jews rounded up in the middle of the night and taken into custody.
Reuben was incredulous, not having been privy to the news while at sea.
“Wait a minute, just hold on. Haven’t we, I mean hasn’t the United States, sent, like relief ships and medical aid and troops and billions of dollars to Israel to help those poor people? I don’t understand. Are you trying to tell me America was going to send those ships full of people where? To Palestine—God I hate saying that name—with an Egyptian Navy ship? Honestly, Sarah, I just don’t believe it. There has to be more to it than that.” Reuben looked at her friend, waiting for an explanation.
Instead, Abram responded.
“You are demonstrating how naive you are, once again. You and that whole government of cowards you got dragged into as a little showpiece. Jews should know better than to count on anybody else to protect them when the tide turns against us,” Abram said, speaking in a whisper. “Sure, for a few years or even a few generations they let us blend in, they let us believe everything is different this time. But then something happens, or some crazy leader comes along, and it starts all over again. What do you think was more important to these Americans? What was more important when it came to choosing between sending doctors to treat dying Jews or getting cut off from half the world’s oil? Tough choice, right? Not for this country, it seemed.”
He looked Reuben straight in the eyes.
“How do you think German Jews felt in 1938 when their neighbors, neighbors who they thought viewed them as good Germans first and as Jews second, stopped talking to them, and then started turning them in? And that was far from the first time. What about the Spanish Jews? The Inquisition ring any bells for you? Don’t you think Spanish Jews felt as comfortable, as much a part of their country, as American Jews feel now? Don’t you think some Spanish Jewish banker told his wife not to worry, nothing bad can happen to us here?”
Levi interrupted, speaking for the first time after he was introduced.
“What are you talking about in Spain? I was there just two months ago. Nothing happened in Spain with the Jews.”
Goldhersh glared.
“I’m talking history. Jewish history. Don’t they teach Jewish history in the public schools in Eretz anymore?”
The conversation paused as all four realized they were getting heated and loud. After a few sips of wine, Reuben continued.
“Abram, Spain, Germany, they were abominations, horrible, but certainly they were exceptions,” she said. “Jews have been accepted in plenty of countries. England, Holland. France. Okay, I know Russia was bad, Poland, too. But please, Abram, is that what’s really happening here in the US?”
Goldhersh started to stand up, throwing his hands over his head, then looked around the restaurant and restrained himself. He sat back down.