For the umpteenth time, she ran through all the possible scenarios but remained as much in the dark as before. They couldn’t have returned to the embassy because of the explosion. All the exits from the city were blocked. She tried to focus on their goal: of all the places, why had the children chosen the cemetery? There had to be a reason! she thought, her eyes roaming over the graves once again. Why do I feel I know this place, she wondered? She was sure she’d never been here before.
Meanwhile, Sual was reading the names on the headstones. “My family has a burial plot here,” she muttered to Theo who was sitting next to her.
“Sual, please look at me,” Theo asked softly, but she stubbornly continued to stare straight ahead.
“The children are what matters now. Whatever’s going on between us can wait,” she said.
Sual thought about all the years she’d loved him from afar, yearning to hear him say these words, but now, in the chaos of war, she suddenly felt lost and confused.
“That’s it!” said Amalia triumphantly. She had suddenly remembered why she knew this place. “Yoav painted this cemetery. He also painted a nearby gate. That’s why this place looks so familiar.”
“I remember that painting: a gate stopped up with rocks and a hen next to it,” said Theo.
“It’s Mercy Gate. It’s just a few steps from here,” added Sual.
“The truth is that a little mercy right now wouldn’t hurt,” Amalia gave a sad smile. “Before the exhibition, Yoav and I had a huge fight. We said awful things and didn’t realize that Yam was standing right there. And now he’s…” she was unable to finish her sentence.
In sympathy, Sual put her hand on Amalia’s. “And I never told my daughter the truth about her father. Parents are human. We all make mistakes,” she said.
“Yoav told me the legend about the lost gate that God closed,” Theo remembered.
“That’s it!” Amalia cried out. “I know where they went. They were looking for the gate.”
“Which gate?” a confused Sual asked.
“The eighth gate of the Jerusalem walls. According to legend, that gate leads upwards,” Amalia explained. “They must think there really is such a gate; they still believe in goodness.” A bitter laugh welled out of her. “In any case, it’s worth checking.”
The greenery was getting thicker the deeper the boys went. The tall tropical jungle trees cast a pleasant shade, birds twittered, and the burbling of waterfalls was heard in the distance.
Mor was amazed by the juicy fruit hanging provocatively from the trees. He approached a tree and stretched his hand to a purplish fruit looking like a cross between a melon and an eggplant, but the tree hopped backward and pulled in its branches. Mor rubbed his eyes in disbelief and again tried to pluck the fruit. This time, the tree screeched as it withdrew, and Mor thought he could hear it snickering.
“Be careful,” yelled Yam who was several yards ahead. Mor ignored his friend. Yam always thinks he knows best, Mor thought with anger, and demonstratively pushed himself deeper into the forest.
For some reason, Mor had the odd sensation that the tree was following him. He whipped around to surprise it, but the tree was standing calmly in place. It’s being cute with me, he thought, and continued ahead. Then, without giving any prior sign, he quickly hopped backward and grabbed hold of a tall branch.
“I caught you,” he yelled victoriously, but in response the tree started to shake in circles from the bottom of its trunk going up, trying to dislodge Mor. Holding fast, he managed to pick one of the purplish fruits, whereupon he let go of the branch and jumped down. The tree shook with anger and reared back. Mor sat down on a rock at a safe distance from the tree and smiled proudly. He now turned to examine the juicy fruit, licking some of the reddish liquid dripping from it. The flavor sent a tremor of joy through his body. He decided to save some of it so that everyone could have a taste and packed the fruit into his backpack. To his astonishment, he could see the fruit in the backpack but not his hands. He looked down and saw only his shoes: his legs were gone too.
Yam had no desire to go farther into the jungle and made sure to walk parallel to the shoreline. He stopped in a small clearing. The ground was dotted with striped and spotted mushrooms of all kinds, and Yam, amazed, stared at a blue mushroom whose cap was crossed by broad red stripes, wondering if it was edible.
After some thought, he decided to pick some of the mushrooms and ask Rae and Enochio about them later. He looked at a small hyrax hopping alongside, sensing the animal wanted him to follow. Yam wasn’t surprised. After all he’s seen, it was pretty clear to him that anything here was possible. He was bending down to pet the animal when he was suddenly struck from behind, causing him to lose his balance and fall.
Not far off, among the jungle trees, Mor felt his body. He was happy to realize his arms and legs were in place, but he still couldn’t see them. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and posed for a selfie. To his horror, he saw that his head was the only part of his body showing in the picture. All the rest of him was gone. Buffeted by emotions, he remained seated on the rock. Obviously, he couldn’t go back to the beach looking like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. Frustrated, he tried kicking a stone, but it lifted in the air before his toes could connect with it.
You can’t even kick a pebble here, he thought angrily. Suddenly, he heard a shout, closely followed by the sound of many rapid footsteps and whistles. Mor recognized
