Recap: The police are looking for Aida and Vanna. They run to Rabbi H and he gives them maps for a walking escape route from Syria. They have to stay hidden until the next day when a smuggler will be able to guide them.
“I’m so scared!” Vanna’s teeth were chattering. We were huddled together in a small shed behind the Rabbi’s house. He apologized but he felt it was the safest spot in case the police should come, and he was still waiting for his contact, an illegal smuggler, to verify he could sneak us out tonight.
“Take my sweater. I’m not cold.”
“Are you sure?”
I slid it off and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Sleep was out of the question. I still couldn’t believe this was real. Here I was with this Arab Muslim girl who had risked her life for me and my family. I kept thinking of my mother in the hospital and Aba in prison. Hashem, please help my parents. Please help me and Vanna.
We waited and waited. I recited T’hilim by heart. Outside, there was the low hum of insects. I heard the breeze riffle through the Syrian Maples in Rabbi H’s backyard.
Suddenly, a police siren screamed. Vanna grabbed onto my arm. My heart squeezed against my chest. The screaming siren faded into the distance. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath.
“When will he come?” Vanna asked.
“Soon,” I said, hoping it was true.
It seemed like forever, until there was a soft tap on the closet door and Rabbi H whispered. “Okay, all clear. The man is outside in a black car. Come quickly.” He handed me an envelope. “You pay him when you reach the top of the hills separating Syria from Lebanon.” Then he handed me a second envelope. “Pin this inside your cloak. When you get to Beirut, G-d willing, use this for a cab to the port.”
Rabbi H led us around to the front of the house and pointed towards the car. “Hashem should be with you and take you to safety.”
Vanna slunk behind me. I opened the door to the strange car. The man at the wheel didn’t turn around. “In quickly,” he hissed.
I was shaking as I closed the car door. Vanna squeezed my arm.
I davened that this man would be a good messenger. The car rumbled down the cobblestone street and we were out of the Jewish Quarter. The car picked up speed. The night was moonless, which helped keep us hidden.
Thank you, Hashem. We drove and drove. At one point, I must have dozed off. I awoke to see it was still dark and we were still driving.
Vanna was sleeping. Hours later, the man stopped the car.
He got out and without looking at us motioned us to follow him.
It was still dark, and we headed up a mountain. We had to walk fast to keep up. The man was always many feet in front. We never saw his face and he never looked at us.
My throat felt parched. I needed to drink but there was no way to get water, and we had to keep going. The darkness still curtained us, hiding us from view, but how much longer would the darkness last? There was a narrow band of gold peeking through the clouds. There was no time for us to speak. Vanna and I just trudged on, following the back of the smuggler.
We trudged on and on. The sun came up and beat down on us and still we followed the back of the smuggler. We never glimpsed his face the whole time.
My tongue felt so dry. I longed for a cool drink of ice water.
The sun grew hotter and hotter. There was no shade. Thankfully, no one else was on the hill.
I had to stop a few times. I felt so dizzy. “The world is spinning,” I whispered through my dry tongue.
Vanna waited next to me patiently. The smuggler was far ahead. We had to catch up. I willed myself to stand and we trudged on.
At one point, everything around me seemed to be turning white and then I stumbled.
Vanna pulled me up. “We have to keep going,” she whispered.
“Maybe you should go without me. I’m too thirsty.” All I wanted to do was lie down.
“No, no. Come.“
Everything was clouded in white. I felt myself sinking into a peaceful sleep.
“No, no,” Vanna shook me. Her voice came from far away.
“I just want to rest,” I murmured.
Vanna shook me. “We’re almost there.”
We were almost at the bottom of the mountain path. Everything was clouded in white, and I was stumbling, holding onto Vanna’s arm. We reached the bottom, and the smuggler threw a water canteen over his shoulder and disappeared.
“We’re here!”
I heard Vanna’s voice but then everything turned black.
Later, she told me she’d held the canteen to my lips and, baruch Hashem, I revived. I gulped the water. It cooled my parched throat. I opened my eyes. We were at the bottom of a mountain. “We’re in Lebanon?”
“We need to get a cab now to Beirut,” Vanna said.
She had an envelope of money from Rabbi H pinned inside her skirt. We plodded toward the main street of the city.
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of an historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishing, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishing, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams (a novel, Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022), and Alaskan Gold ( 2023-2024).
