The Haj - Leon Uris [95]
Commerce, education, social and medical services, agricultural marketing, banking and communications halted, building stopped and factories suddenly closed, and ideology within the Arab community collapsed. This self-imposed exile of the rich and the important stripped those who remained of any kind of responsible leadership. Small wonder that the ordinary fellah and the little merchant were utterly devastated by their departure. Witnessing the desertion of almost every prominent and respected person in the community, other families began to simply drift out of the country. This was the opening chapter of a ripple effect that exploded into universal flight, a flight that resulted in a refugee problem that was to consume the Palestinian Arab.
A British patrol entered Tabah on a routine search. The lieutenant in command went into the café and ordered Farouk outside, beyond earshot of the others.
‘Fawzi Kabir is in Jaffa in his villa,’ the officer said. ‘He wants to see you as quickly as possible. When shall I say you will be there?’
‘I can come the day after the Sabbath.’
‘No one is to know, particularly your brother,’ the lieutenant said.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Will there be any suspicion?’
‘No no. I will simply tell Ibrahim that with the shortages building up I want to get to Jaffa for supplies.’
‘No one—repeat, no one—is to know who sent for you.’
‘I understand. But what does the Effendi want of me?’
The officer shrugged. ‘I only carry the message,’ he said.
Kabir’s people had been on the lookout for Farouk and spotted him the instant he debarked from a bus at the Clock Tower in the center of Jaffa. He was whisked off in a car with its curtains drawn.
Kabir’s villa was across from the Scotch House Hotel above the port. Farouk had been there on many occasions to pay the annual rents of Tabah, but never surreptitiously. Every time he was to see the Effendi, his nerves betrayed him. This secret summons had him in a hand-sweating, stomach-growling tizzy.
Farouk was welcomed with uncustomary warmth. This increased his suspicions.
‘How does it go in Tabah, brother?’ Kabir asked.
‘It is very tense.’
‘What is the general attitude of the men?’
‘We are coming under a great deal of pressure from Abdul Kadar to join his militia.’
‘Have any joined?’
‘Some have secretly pledged. They must wait until Haj Ibrahim gives them the blessing.’
‘And your brother. What does he have to say about this?’
‘Since he has returned from Damascus, he says very little. Of course he is enraged about all the wealthy families who have abandoned us.’
‘Yes, their flight has raised havoc with commerce. I will have a terrible problem getting my orange crop shipped out this year. We shall not forget the cowardly behavior of those who fled. When the war is over, there will be many new leaders in Palestine.’
Farouk bowed his head twice in agreement.
‘I understand there has been talk of evacuation among all the Arab villages of Ayalon,’ Kabir said.
‘Oh no, Effendi! We are prepared to fight to the last drop of blood.’
‘Tabah?’
‘Tabah will lead the fight.’
‘Suppose there are circumstances beyond your control that may force you to leave Tabah for a short time. Has Haj Ibrahim mentioned anything about that?’
‘No. As I said, he speaks very little but he ponders.’
‘What of the others in Tabah? The sheiks?’
‘We will fight to the end.’
Fawzi Effendi Kabir reached out and took Farouk’s hands in his and looked him directly in the eyes. Farouk was terribly uncomfortable, fearful.
‘As brave as your people are, I want you to tell me the real talk among them. Let me assure you that the truth is extremely important. It could mean a great deal to you.’ Farouk whined out a nervous sigh. The Effendi continued to grasp his hands. ‘The truth,’ Kabir repeated. ‘Try.’
‘Most of the talk is of evacuation. Everyone is frightened. The truth is that we are only waiting for word from Haj Ibrahim.’
‘Uh-huh. So what I tell you must be strictly between you and me. It is very secret information. Do you understand me, Farouk?’