The Moses Legacy

Chapter 105

While Daniel and Gabrielle remained in the car, Sarit had gone into the terminal on the Jordanian side and there had been some frantic talking and gesticulating. They had signalled some people over from the Israeli side and a whole group of them were engaged in earnest conversation, dominated by Mediterranean-style gesticulation which could variously be a sign of anger, concern or just a desire to be heard.

Gabrielle sat there in tense silence. But Daniel felt betrayed. He wanted answers.

‘The only thing I don’t understand is why.’

‘I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out. I like the idea of cutting your ethno-religious tribe down to size.’

‘Ethno-religious tribe?’ asked Daniel, aghast.

‘Your snobbish little closed shop whose members think they’re the bee’s knees and that you can only join by maternal inheritance. Only it’s all built on myth. The descendants of a smooth-talking Syrian soldier who helped a usurper steal the Egyptian throne from his brother. His son, a murderer, adulterer and incestuous pervert who slept with his daughter and then married his granddaughter to steal the throne? So much for your holier than thou, ethno-religious club.’

‘Except that your version is an even bigger fake, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe, but it fits the character of your people. I should have known even as a kid that you’d never be interested in a shiksa.’

Daniel noticed the tears welling up in Gabrielle’s eyes and he realized that there were things in her heart and mind that had been buried there for a long time.

‘Is that what it’s all about? Some unrequited schoolgirl crush?’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Danny! Any feelings I had for you died a long time ago.’

He was tempted to remind her about her drunken behaviour a few weeks ago. But that would have been twisting the knife – something he was loath to do.

‘You were fifteen when we met. It wasn’t my religion that stood in the way. Hell, I don’t even have a religion, except in name. It was my sense of responsibility.’

‘Oh, you have such a great sense of propriety, don’t you? But only on personal matters. Not on the issues that really count!’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Do you remember when we worked together on a dig in Jerusalem two years ago?’

He looked at her, confused. ‘Yes. What about it?’

‘We didn’t dig on Friday or Saturday. One Friday morning I was in an expanding Jewish suburb where building work was taking place, and there was this bulldozer and it was knocking down some olive trees that belonged to the nearby Arab village. The bulldozer was being driven by a soldier. I asked why they were doing it and someone told me that the olive trees were being used as cover for children to throw stones at cars driven by people from the Jewish neighbourhood. And there was this kid – she couldn’t have been more than four or five – standing in front of the bulldozer…’ The tears were welling up in her eyes again. ‘And the bulldozer… it wouldn’t stop… and I just stood there frozen… too frozen to speak… it wouldn’t stop… and the girl’s mother was screaming… and I was screaming in my mind… and it wouldn’t stop…’

She broke down in hysterical tears.

Daniel moved towards her and tried to put a comforting arm around her, but she brushed him off.

‘Don’t touch me! If you want to make a moral stand, make it over injustices like that instead of remaining silent!’

There were a thousand things he could say. About the injustices on the other side too. About not judging a nation by individual instances, even if they could be strung together to present a negative picture. But none of that was a valid answer to her criticism. If that child was killed in the way she said and if the driver of the bulldozer was not held to account, then a grievous wrong had been done.

Sarit returned. Ignoring Gabrielle’s tearful hysterics – or at least pretending to – she got back into the car and drove it across the border into Israel.

‘I’ve notified the authorities in Israel and they’ll be sending up flares and soldiers to look out for him. But I’d like us to keep driving around the lake in case we see him. We’re the only ones who know what he looks like.’