The Remainer thought to himself, though, something that he wouldn’t say to any of his family—namely that Shaul’s invitation, if it was genuine, would cause a tsunami of scandal the length and breadth of the land. This was despite the fact that the length of the land had increased in 1967, with the Golan Heights at the head in the north-east and the Gaza Strip and Sinai at the foot in the south, while its breadth had increased and its belly had become bloated with the West Bank in the east. It had then quickly become pregnant, time and again, giving birth every month or two to a new settlement with new residents, and sometimes even to twins. Even so, the invitation would shock everyone.
He also said to himself that Shaul’s invitation would confirm his position on the Holocaust (Shoah), and his respect for its victims, and his desire to remember Aviva together with the other mourners as they lowered her body into her final resting place. This unusual and solemn event would give him a place in the Guinness Book of World Records as the first Palestinian to take part in an occasion such as this, and The Remainer hoped that other people would not challenge him.
But what if Shaul were to ask The Remainer to say a word of condolence on this occasion, in the name of the Arabs of the country and neighboring Arabs as well? Or to recite the Kaddish prayer over the body of the departed? During her lifetime, he had been one of the closest to the departed of the likely mourners, and he had enjoyed friendly relations with her. He must have something he could say. Would he do it? Would he say words to Rabia, as he called her, for her soul to hear? Would she be comforted and thank him for them? And would she thank him for turning a blind eye to her being buried in a piece of land that used to belong to Palestinians like himself? Of course, he thought, Jews die here, and are buried here. But they also die elsewhere, and are still buried here. Can’t they just be buried wherever they’ve lived for their whole lives? Why come and share the only ‘here’ we’ve got?
The Remainer recalled what he had read one evening in the Talmud: “The body of a Jew who has died outside Palestine, after being buried in the ground, will crawl until it reaches the Holy Land and is united with it.”
“Good God!” he commented. “A Palestinian refugee can’t get there dead or alive. Not crawling underground, not walking on their feet, not even falling from the sky. Palestinians crawl toward Sweden and Denmark instead.”
He wondered whether he should accept all this, and cursed the Nazis, and their black history, and what they had done to the Jews, which was the reason for most of them being made to emigrate to the country.
So The Remainer’s tongue lashed all the countries of Europe, as he cursed them one after the other, and sometimes collectively, because they had renounced the Jews at the time of their suffering and had committed a massive crime by helping them to emigrate to Palestine instead of absorbing them themselves. He singled out Britain for particular historical curses, then brought it all to a conclusion by asking for mercy on the soul of Aviva, his neighbor, whose life had been part and parcel of the struggle. God have mercy on you, Aviva. You took what’s ours in this world, and tomorrow you’ll ask for our share in the next.
Meanwhile, Aviva, stretched out on her bed, was struck by a sudden longing, like a cold wind, to return to the waking world. She hoped that her return would terrify Shaul, who had paid no attention to her fears and had disregarded the possibility of her being killed by the four soldiers and their rifles. He had never even thought of hugging her to his chest and protecting her during her ravings, or of hurrying her away to safety.
So the ‘dead’ Aviva conjured up her original shout—the one that had awakened The Remainer and the members of his family—and cried out again. This time, it had more impact on Shaul, as well as on The Remainer himself, who exclaimed from his own house, “You came back quickly, neighbor!” When she had fully returned to this world, Aviva suffered the effects of a new bout of raving, telling her husband—who was astounded by her awakening—that the pair of them had to flee immediately or else take refuge with their neighbor Adon Dahman, as they called him.
Shaul doubted whether Mahmoud Dahman would accede to their request and guarantee them protection together, for he recalled a conversation he had had with The Remainer on the eve of the outbreak of the June 1967 War. In broken Arabic, Shaul had asked him, “If you win the war, my friend, and occupy the country, will you hide me in your house, Adon Dahman, and protect me from the revenge of the Arabs?”
“Come on, neighbor . . . ,” Mahmoud had replied, in a reassuring tone. “What’s this talk? I’ll divorce Husniya three times before I abandon you, and if anyone gets near you, I’ll finish him off with these two hands of mine!” And he had clasped his thumbs and index fingers together, drawing the rest of his fingers around them like he was strangling someone.
The Remainer had recalled that the Arabs, even united, had not won the 1948 War or any war since, and that there was a considerable
