Exodus - Leon Uris [186]
He seated himself. “I have spoken to Harriet Saltzman. We will see her right after lunch.”
“Thanks. I’m very excited about Jerusalem.”
“She has mysterious powers. Everyone is excited on his first visit. Take David Ben Ami ... David never gets over Jerusalem. Matter of fact he will be sight-seeing with you tomorrow. It is the Sabbath. He wants to take you into the Old City.”
“He is sweet to think of me.”
Ari looked at her closely. She seemed even prettier now than when he entered the terrace. He turned his eyes away and signaled for a waiter, then stared off into space after giving the order. Kitty had the feeling now that Ari had committed himself and was anxious to complete his obligation. No word passed between them for ten minutes.
She picked at her salad. “Do I bore you?”
“Of course not.”
“Since you came back from your engagement last night you’ve acted as though I haven’t existed.”
“I’m sorry, Kitty,” he said without looking at her. “I guess I have been rather bad company today.”
“Is there something wrong?”
“There’s a lot wrong but it doesn’t concern you or me or my bad manners. Let me tell you about Harriet Saltzman. She’s an American. She must be well over eighty years old now. If we conferred sainthoods in the Yishuv, she would be our first saint. See that hill beyond the Old City?”
“Over there?”
“That’s Mount Scopus. Those buildings make up the most modern medical center in the Middle East. The money comes from American Zionist women that Harriet organized after the first world war. Most of the hospital and medical centers in Palestine come from her Hadassah organization.”
“She sounds like quite a girl.”
“Yes, she is. When Hitler came to power Harriet organized Youth Aliyah. She is responsible for saving thousands of youngsters. They maintain dozens of youth centers all over Palestine. You’ll get along fine with her.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, no Jew who has lived in Palestine can ever go without leaving his heart here. It’s the same way with Americans, I think. Harriet has been here for years but she’s still very much an American.”
The orchestra stopped playing.
A silence fell over Jerusalem. They could hear the faint cry of a Moslem muezzin calling his people to prayer from a minaret in the Old City. Then it became quiet again with a stillness that Kitty had never experienced.
The bells from the carillon in the YMCA tower over the street played a hymn and the tones flooded the hills and the valleys. And then—again it became still. It was so peaceful it would have been sacrilegious to speak. All life and all time seemed to stand still in one moment.
“What an utterly wonderful sensation,” Kitty said.
“Those kinds of moments are rarities these days,” Ari said. “I am afraid that the calm is deceptive.”
Ari saw a small olive-skinned man standing at the terrace door. He recognized the man as Bar Israel, the contact for the Maccabees. Bar Israel nodded to Ari and disappeared.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” Ari said. He walked into the lobby to the cigarette stand and purchased a pack and then thumbed through a magazine. Bar Israel walked up alongside him.
“Your Unkele Akiva is in Jerusalem,” Bar Israel whispered. “He wants to see you.”
“I have to go to the Zion Settlement Society but I will be free shortly after.”
“Meet me in the Russian compound,” the contact man said, and hastened through the lobby.
King George Avenue was a wide boulevard in the New City and was lined with administrative buildings and schools and churches. The Zion Settlement Society, a large, four-storied rambling affair, stood on a corner. A long driveway led to the main entrance.
“Shalom, Ari!” Harriet Saltzman said, prancing from behind her desk with an agility that belied her years. She stood on her toes, put her arms around Ari