Exodus - Leon Uris [109]
After an initial survey Ari was advised it would take several days to get the children strong enough and the ship fit enough to make the day and a half run to Palestine. The small Jewish community on Cyprus sent a delegation to Ari to appeal to him to allow the children to celebrate the first night of Chanukah, the Festival of Lights, on Cyprus before sailing; the holiday was to begin in a few days. Ari agreed.
Only after Kitty had been assured and reassured that Karen’s condition was not serious did she allow herself the luxury of a steaming hot tub, a thick steak, a half pint of Scotch, and a magnificent, deep, seventeen-hour sleep.
Kitty awoke to a problem she could no longer avoid. She had to decide either to end the episode with Karen forever or to follow the girl to Palestine.
Late in the evening when Mark came into her room for tea she appeared none the worse for her ordeal. In fact, the long sleep had made her look quite attractive.
“Newsroom still hectic?”
“Matter of fact, no,” Mark answered. “The captains and the kings are departing. The Exodus is day-old news now ... the kind they wrap fish in. Oh, I suppose we can drum up a final page-one picture when the boat lands in Haifa.”
“People are fickle.”
“No, not really, Kitty. The world just has a habit of moving on.”
She sipped her tea and sank into silence. Mark lit a cigarette and propped his feet on the window sill. He pretended his fingers were a pistol and pointed over his shoe tops out at the pier.
“What about you, Mark?”
“Me? Old Mark Parker has worn out his welcome in the king’s domains. I’m going Stateside and then maybe take a crack at the Asian beat. I’ve had an itch to go there anyhow ... I hear it runs crosswise.”
“The British won’t let you into Palestine?”
“Not a chance. I am held in very low esteem. In fact if they weren’t proper Englishmen I’d say they hate my guts. Frankly, I don’t blame them.”
“Give me a cigarette.”
Mark lit one and handed it to her. He bided his time, continuing to take target practice with his imaginary pistol.
“Damn you, Mark! I hate that smug way you have of reading my mind.”
“You’ve been a busy little girl. You went to the British authorities to ask permission to enter Palestine. Being the gentlemen they are, they opened the door for you and bowed. You were just a clean-cut American girl doing her duty. Of course, CID doesn’t know about your little rumrunning act for Aliyah Bet. Well ... are you going or not?”
“God, I don’t know.”
“You mean you haven’t talked yourself into it yet.”
“I mean I don’t know.”
“So which side do you want me to take?”
“You could stop acting like a worldly Buddha looking down on the poor tormented mortals. And you could stop sniping at me, Mark.”
Mark dropped his feet from the window sill. “Go on ... go to Palestine. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”
“I still don’t feel right around Jewish people ... I can’t help it.”
“You feel fine around that girl though, don’t you? Does she still remind you of your daughter?”
“Not really, not any more. She is too much of herself to be anyone else. But I love her and want her, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’ve got a loaded question for you, Mrs. Fremont ...”
“Go on.”
“Are you in love with Ari Ben Canaan?”
Love Ari Ben Canaan? She knew that he affected her whenever he was near or spoke or looked at her or even when she thought of him. She knew she had never met another man exactly like him. She knew she had a certain fear of his dark quietness and his tremendous power. She knew she admired his daring and courage. She knew there were moments