The Covenant Read Online Free Page B
final scene.
It was unbearable. Yet, they kept bearing it.
But what else could they do? Stay locked up in their homes and never go out? Life had to go on. At least, this is what they kept telling themselves, and each other, pretending to feel a courage and certainty they didn’t have.
Slowly, she pried her child’s small fingers loose. She felt her vision blur. “I brought you sugar cookies for your lunch bag,” Ruth wheedled, picking liana up.
The child’s face remained impassive. She was impossible to bribe, and she didn’t particularly like sweets. But Ruth’s sugar cookies were an exception. Slowly, she relented. “With sprinkles?”
“With sprinkles.”
And then the two of them were gone.
The house filled with the lonely sound of the front door clicking shut. Elise turned off the radio, her forehead glistening. Oh, this was no good for her, she knew, no good, she thought, cradling her swollen belly. I’ll keep you safe, baby. I’ll keep you safe, she thought, rocking. Until the world becomes a sane and decent place again, until the bad guys are vanquished, the murderers imprisoned, the demagogues hung by their ankles in the town square. Until the world is safe, familiar, predictable and good again.
She reached over and took out her box of beads. Not a bribe, she told herself. Just a sorry-I-couldn’t-be-there gift. Something sparkly and pretty with lots of pink—liana’s latest love. As she began to string the beads she thought about how wonderful it would be if the world was like a beaded necklace. When it didn’t come out right, you could just take the whole thing apart and start all over again, learning from your mistakes…
Chapter Three
Hadassah Hospital, Jerusalem
Monday, May 6, 2002
9:00 A.M.
D R. JONATHAN MARGULIES opened his office door. She was there, as usual, pretending to be busy dusting off something which had long since surrendered every particle to her whacking ministrations.
“Fatima. What a surprise.”
“As salaam aleikum , Doctor Jon,” the woman said with the greatest respect, her weathered face breaking into a huge smile of strong white teeth. “I’m just finishing. I’m in your way?”
Jon smiled and shook his head. “Never. I’m lucky to have you.”
He’d known her through medical school and residency. She was almost a fixture in the department. A few times a month, she even came to the house to help Elise with the cleaning. liana adored her.
Before the Intifada forced the army to put up roadblocks, she used to travel in to work each morning from one of the little villages just outside of Hebron. Now she stayed with relatives in East Jerusalem. Weighing two hundred pounds, she had raised eleven children, and could lift up his desk with one hand. He had no idea how old she was. The shapeless traditional caftan that covered her ample frame from neck to ankle and the voluminous scarf that hid the color of her hair gave him few clues. Her face showed great character and an abundance of living. She could have been forty—or sixty—he often thought with admiration.
Life for her had not been easy. Her husband was a construction worker who off and on had spent time working in Saudi Arabia along with severalof her sons. For long stretches, he knew, she was in charge of a household that she ran single-handedly. He sat down at his desk and turned on his computer.
She waited.
“Is there something you need, Fatima?”
“Doctor Jon, I don’t like to trouble you, but perhaps I could ask you a question?” she said in broken Hebrew.
From long experience, Jonathan knew that whatever response he might make, she would ask her question, and she wouldn’t leave without an answer.
He shut off the computer. He didn’t mind, except that giving medical advice without actually examining any of the various relatives and friends Fatima was determined to cure wasn’t particularly good medicine. “Of course. But you know, whoever it is, they really need to see a doctor
It was unbearable. Yet, they kept bearing it.
But what else could they do? Stay locked up in their homes and never go out? Life had to go on. At least, this is what they kept telling themselves, and each other, pretending to feel a courage and certainty they didn’t have.
Slowly, she pried her child’s small fingers loose. She felt her vision blur. “I brought you sugar cookies for your lunch bag,” Ruth wheedled, picking liana up.
The child’s face remained impassive. She was impossible to bribe, and she didn’t particularly like sweets. But Ruth’s sugar cookies were an exception. Slowly, she relented. “With sprinkles?”
“With sprinkles.”
And then the two of them were gone.
The house filled with the lonely sound of the front door clicking shut. Elise turned off the radio, her forehead glistening. Oh, this was no good for her, she knew, no good, she thought, cradling her swollen belly. I’ll keep you safe, baby. I’ll keep you safe, she thought, rocking. Until the world becomes a sane and decent place again, until the bad guys are vanquished, the murderers imprisoned, the demagogues hung by their ankles in the town square. Until the world is safe, familiar, predictable and good again.
She reached over and took out her box of beads. Not a bribe, she told herself. Just a sorry-I-couldn’t-be-there gift. Something sparkly and pretty with lots of pink—liana’s latest love. As she began to string the beads she thought about how wonderful it would be if the world was like a beaded necklace. When it didn’t come out right, you could just take the whole thing apart and start all over again, learning from your mistakes…
Chapter Three
Hadassah Hospital, Jerusalem
Monday, May 6, 2002
9:00 A.M.
D R. JONATHAN MARGULIES opened his office door. She was there, as usual, pretending to be busy dusting off something which had long since surrendered every particle to her whacking ministrations.
“Fatima. What a surprise.”
“As salaam aleikum , Doctor Jon,” the woman said with the greatest respect, her weathered face breaking into a huge smile of strong white teeth. “I’m just finishing. I’m in your way?”
Jon smiled and shook his head. “Never. I’m lucky to have you.”
He’d known her through medical school and residency. She was almost a fixture in the department. A few times a month, she even came to the house to help Elise with the cleaning. liana adored her.
Before the Intifada forced the army to put up roadblocks, she used to travel in to work each morning from one of the little villages just outside of Hebron. Now she stayed with relatives in East Jerusalem. Weighing two hundred pounds, she had raised eleven children, and could lift up his desk with one hand. He had no idea how old she was. The shapeless traditional caftan that covered her ample frame from neck to ankle and the voluminous scarf that hid the color of her hair gave him few clues. Her face showed great character and an abundance of living. She could have been forty—or sixty—he often thought with admiration.
Life for her had not been easy. Her husband was a construction worker who off and on had spent time working in Saudi Arabia along with severalof her sons. For long stretches, he knew, she was in charge of a household that she ran single-handedly. He sat down at his desk and turned on his computer.
She waited.
“Is there something you need, Fatima?”
“Doctor Jon, I don’t like to trouble you, but perhaps I could ask you a question?” she said in broken Hebrew.
From long experience, Jonathan knew that whatever response he might make, she would ask her question, and she wouldn’t leave without an answer.
He shut off the computer. He didn’t mind, except that giving medical advice without actually examining any of the various relatives and friends Fatima was determined to cure wasn’t particularly good medicine. “Of course. But you know, whoever it is, they really need to see a doctor