and Eli opted for a romantic stroll through the Old City and dinner in the New City.
Sarah had been brought up secularly and had no allegiance to any particular faith. She was one of those naive but well-meaning people that was constantly bewildered by the fact that different races and religions found it difficult to get along. It was this purity of heart that made her so attractive, and she was well aware of it. Sarah often exploited this side of her personality in a charming, all-American girl-next-door persona. Academically she was very bright and accustomed to being an overachiever, but this didn’t mean she was particularly worldly. Her mother, and later her father, had raised her in a protective environment that sheltered her from the liabilities of the street. She was, therefore, unintentionally gullible — a trait she never realized might someday get her into trouble.
As she walked arm in arm with Eli, the young man with whom she was enamored, Sarah had no reason to worry about terrorists, suicide bombers, Arab-Jewish conflicts, or the peace process. The only thing on her mind that evening was whether or not she and Eli would eventually end up in a bedroom.
She had met Eli at the Northwestern University library during her sophomore year. Rivka Cohen belonged to a campus social club of Israeli students. She had arranged to study with a boy she was interested in, a fellow named Noel Brooks. Rivka asked Sarah to come along because Noel might bring a friend. Sarah needed to study for an exam so she thought, why not? She and Rivka found themselves at a table in the library and after a while Noel showed up with a companion. They sat across the table from the girls and introductions were made. His name was Eli Horowitz. Sarah thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He had dark, curly hair, brown eyes, a closely cut beard and mustache, and was tall and muscular. He would have resembled Michelangelo’s
Eli, like Noel, was a graduate student from Israel. He was studying music and wanted to be a conductor. He didn’t specialize in any particular instrument but claimed to be able to play several “not very well.”
After the study session, the girls said goodbye to the boys and they went their separate ways. That night, Eli called to ask her out.
They dated for three months. Eli and Noel had an apartment off-campus and Sarah found herself often staying there. As a sophomore, she still lived in a dorm, but the rules were lax enough that she could sign out to “stay with a friend.” It got to where she rarely slept at the dorm.
Then, suddenly, both Eli and Noel were gone. Rivka and Sarah tried in vain to find out what had happened. At first they were hurt badly because they thought the boys had abandoned them without saying goodbye. Two letters arrived a month later, one for Rivka and one for Sarah. The boys explained that Immigration had deported them. Their student visas had been invalid — expired months earlier — and due to the heightened security rules regarding foreign students, they had no recourse.
Sarah kept in touch with Eli by e-mail once he was reestablished in Israel. He didn’t reply often, which concerned her, but she figured he was busy looking for work or whatever. When he did write, the e-mails were full of love and adoration, many times loaded with sexual suggestions and invitations for her to come and visit. This encouraged Sarah to carry a torch for the young man.
And now, ten months later, here she was walking with him through the historic Old City of Jerusalem. Eli gave her a running commentary as they strolled through the narrow streets.
“You see, it’s divided into four quarters. This is the Christian Quarter, the one we’re in now. Over that way is the Muslim Quarter, and over there is the Armenian Quarter. The Jewish Quarter is straight across, to the east.”
“You sound like a tour guide,” Sarah said, laughing.
“I worked as a tour guide when I was a teenager,” Eli said. “I’d take fat Americans all over the city in a company car. Sometimes I’d drive really fast and scare the hell out of them.”
She slapped his arm and said, “You’re awful.”
They approached a somber church that appeared to have been built in a patchwork-quilt fashion. It was made up of several architectural styles but was impressive by its sheer antiquity.
“This is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,” Eli said. “It’s built on the site where the Catholics think Jesus was crucified.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The Orthodox and Coptic churches believe it, too.”
“You mean not everyone thinks it’s here?”
“Nope. There’s a place in East Jerusalem where most Protestants think it happened. You want to go inside?”
“I don’t think so. I’d rather keep walking.”
“Okay.”
The couple moved south and east one block to the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer. Eli took her up the tower so they could see the excellent view of the Old City. As they gazed upon the marvelous vista, Sarah said, “You haven’t told me where you live. Do you and Noel share a place?”
“No, I live alone now,” Eli answered. “I have an apartment in East Jerusalem.”
“Oh, yeah? You going to show it to me?” She squeezed his waist flirtatiously.
He smiled. “Maybe. You know East Jerusalem is the Palestinian part of the city.”
“So?”
“I’m just saying.”
After descending the tower they walked to David Street and headed west. When they reached the Jaffa Gate, Eli said, “This is the traditional doorway between the Old City and the New City.” He pointed to an old building. “That’s the Crusader Citadel. That’s where they think King Herod hung out.”
“There’s so much history here,” Sarah said, wide-eyed.
“You hungry?”
“Starving!”
“Let’s go eat. I know a very famous place in the New City.”
They walked up the Jaffa Road past expensive gift shops and eateries until they came to the Village Green Restaurant.
“I’ve heard of this place,” Sarah observed.
“Some people think it’s the best restaurant in Jerusalem,” Eli said. They entered, secured a table, and looked at the menu.
“It’s kosher vegetarian,” Eli explained. “No meat for you carnivores.”
Sarah kicked him lightly under the table. “Hey, I like my hamburgers. But I like veggies, too. What’s good?”
“I like their pizza.”
She ended up ordering a meatless lasagna dish, vegetable soup, and a salad. Eli asked for a mushroom pizza and a bottle of kosher red wine.
As she watched him eat, she was reminded of her father’s probing questions. She liked Eli a lot, but it was true she didn’t know a lot about his background.
“Tell me about your parents,” she said.
He shrugged, chewing on a piece of food. “What’s to tell?”
“They live here?”
“Um, no. At one time they did.”
“Where are they now?”
“My mother is in Lebanon. My father was Jewish and my mother is Muslim. They didn’t stay together.”
“I didn’t know that,” Sarah said. “Why haven’t you told me that?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“How old were you when… they divorced?”
He laughed inwardly. “They were never married. It was a bit of a scandal, I think. Not many Muslims and Jews have children together. My mother raised me until I was seven. Then… well, I went to live with relatives in Lebanon. I came back here when I was eighteen.”
“Where’s your father?”
“He’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
