Exodus - Leon Uris [337]
On the day of Passover Eve, Kitty and Sutherland drove from his villa to Yad El.
“The idea of your leaving Israel is wretched,” Sutherland grumbled. “Can’t make myself get on to it.”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, Bruce. It is best. In America we always say, ‘leave them laughing.’ ”
“Do you really feel that immigration has passed its peak?”
“Well, let’s say the first flood is over. There are many small communities of Jews, like the Poles, locked in Europe who want to get out. We suspect the roof may fall in on the Jews in Egypt at any time. But the main thing is that we have personnel and facilities for any emergencies.”
“You mean for little emergencies,” Sutherland said. “What about the giants?”
“I don’t understand.”
“The United States has six million Jews and the Russians have four. What of them?”
Kitty thought deeply. “Most of those few Jews who have come from the United States are either one of two things; they are either idealists of the old pioneer days or neurotics seeking a false haven. I do not believe that the day will ever come that American Jews must come to Israel because of fear or persecution. If the day does come, I do not want to be alive to see it. As for the Russians, there is a strange and haunting story that not many people know.”
“You have me curious,” Sutherland said.
“Well, you know that they have tried to integrate the Jews by swallowing them up in theories and in evolution. They have tried to make them lose their identity by letting the old ones die out and indoctrinating the young ones from birth. Of course you know that anti-Semitism still rages in Russia.”
“I’ve heard.”
“It was on the last high holy days that this fantastic thing happened. It proved that the Soviets have failed miserably. The ambassador from Israel went to the only synagogue they permit in Moscow. After thirty years of silence, thirty thousand Jews appeared on the streets just to see and touch the ambassador! Yes, there will be a great aliyah from Russia someday.”
The story struck Sutherland deeply and he was silent. It was the same old story, the concept that arose so often in his mind: ... the Jew never loses his identity. And ... there comes that day of truth when he must stand and declare himself. He thought of his own beloved mother ...
They turned from the main road into the Yad El moshav. Sarah Ben Canaan rushed from the cottage to meet them. There were hugs and holiday greetings.
“Are we the first here?”
“Dov has arrived. Come in already, come in ... come in.”
Dov met them at the door. He shook Sutherland’s hand and embraced Kitty warmly. She held him off at arm’s length. “Major Dov Landau! You get better-looking every time I see you.”
Dov blushed.
Sutherland was examining Sarah’s roses in the living room with a trace of envy.
“Where is everybody?” Kitty asked.
“Jordana went to Haifa last night. She said she would be back early,” Sarah said.
“Karen wrote me that she would leave Nahal Midbar the day before,” Dov said. “That would be yesterday. She’s allowing plenty of time to get here. She may have stayed over at Haifa last night. Anyhow, she may have to hitch a ride beyond Safed.”
“Don’t fret,” Sutherland said. “She’ll be here in time for the Seder.”
Kitty was disappointed that Karen had not arrived but made no point of it before the others. Transportation was terrible, especially on a holiday. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked Sarah.
“You can sit down and take life easy. Already there have been a dozen calls for you from the moshav office. Your children all over the Huleh know you are coming. They said they would be dropping in during the day before the Seder.” Sarah rushed off to her kitchen.
Kitty turned to Dov. “I hear some very good reports about you, Dov.”
The boy shrugged.
“Don’t be modest. I understand you’re planning a Jordan water project.