Exodus - Leon Uris [193]
Ari and Kitty walked through Sarah’s garden on the side of the house to the low rail fence. Ari put his foot up on the rail and looked out over the fields of the moshav. The water sprinklers were whirling a cooling spray and the orchard trembled lightly in the evening breeze. The air was scented with the fragrance of Sarah’s winter roses. Kitty watched Ari as he looked out at his land. For the first time since she had known Ari Ben Canaan he seemed to be at peace. They are rare moments for him, Kitty thought, remembering that brief period of peace in Jerusalem.
“Not much like your Indiana, I’m afraid,” Ari said.
“It will do.”
“Well ... you didn’t have to build Indiana out of a swamp.” Ari wanted to say much more to Kitty. He wanted to talk about how much he longed to be able to come home and work on his land. He wanted to beg her to understand what it was for his people to own land like this.
Kitty was leaning over the fence gazing at the beauty and proud achievement that Yad El represented. She looked radiant. Ari was filled with a desire to take her in his arms and hold her, but he did nothing and said nothing. They turned away together and walked along the fence until they came to the barn buildings, where the cackle of chickens and the honk of a goose met their ears. He opened the gate. The hinge was broken.
“That needs fixing,” he said. “A lot of things need fixing. I’m away all the time and Jordana is gone too. My father is away at conferences so much. I’m afraid the Ben Canaan farm has become a village liability. The whole moshav has the responsibility. Someday we are all going to be home together ... then you’ll really see something.” They stopped by a hogpen where a sow lay panting in the mud as a dozen gluttonous pigs fought to get at her teats. “Zebras,” Ari said.
“If I wasn’t an old zebra expert I’d swear I was looking at pigs,” Kitty answered.
“Shhh ... not so loud. There might be someone from the Land Fund eavesdropping. We aren’t supposed to raise ... zebras ... on Jewish national land. Up at Gan Dafna the children call them pelicans. At the kibbutz they are more realistic. They are spoken of as comrades.”
They walked beyond the barn, chicken house and machinery shed to the edge of the fields.
“You can see Gan Dafna from here.” Ari stood behind her and pointed to the hills near the Lebanese border.
“Those white houses?”
“No, that’s an Arab village called Abu Yesha. Now look to the right of it and farther up where those trees are, on the plateau.”
“Oh yes, I see it now. My, it’s really up in the air. What is that building behind it on top of the hill?”
“Fort Esther, a British border station. Come along. I have something else to show you. “
They walked through the fields as it began to turn dusk, and the sun played strange tricks of coloring on the hills. They came to a wooded area on the edge of the fields where a stream rushed past toward the Huleh Lake.
“Your colored people in America sing very pretty spirituals about this stream.”
“Is this the Jordan?”
“Yes.”
Ari moved close to Kitty and they looked solemnly at each other. “Do you like it? Do you like my parents?” Kitty nodded. She waited for Ari to take her in his arms. His hands touched her shoulders.
“Ari! Ari! Ari!” a voice shouted from a distance. He released Kitty and spun around. A horse and rider were racing toward them, framed by the dying red sun. Soon they could make out the figure, the straight back, and the flaming hair.
“Jordana!”
She pulled the frothing horse to a halt, threw up both her arms and screamed for joy and leaped down on Ari so hard they both crashed to the ground. Jordana climbed on top of Ari and smothered his face with kisses.
“Cut it out,” he protested.
“Ari! I love you to pieces!”
Jordana began to tickle him and they rolled over wrestling. Ari was forced to pin her down to hold her still. Kitty watched with amusement. Suddenly Jordana saw her and her expression froze. Ari, remembering Kitty’s presence, smiled sheepishly and helped Jordana to her feet.
“My overwrought young sister. I think she mistook