The Last Princess (30 page)

Sensing Lily weaken, Valerie cannily unleashed her ultimate weapon. “And had you thought about Ellis, Lily? How would he feel if you abandon the ball, when he went out on a limb to get you the chairmanship?”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Well?”

It was Ellis who decided her. “You’re right. I can’t do that to him. And a couple of months is not really such a long time.”

Valerie could hardly hide her sense of triumph as she bid Lily good night. Once home, she gloated. Her plans were working out beautifully, beyond her wildest dreams. She and Harry would be alone in Israel for almost two months! And out there, with the desert moon overhead, and the soft breezes wafting in from the Mediterranean …

Meanwhile, Harry and Lily lay side by side in hostile silence. Finally Lily spoke. “Harry, I’ve come to a decision.”

“Yes?”

“Since I have undertaken a responsibility to the March of Dimes, I don’t feel that I can drop it. I’ll come over as soon as the ball is over and I know what the children are doing for the summer.”

“Whatever you like,” he said coolly, though he felt a smoldering rage.

She was abandoning him once again! It had been less than a year that she had left him after Jeremy’s death and now she was willing to part from him again.

Guilt and anger washed over him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that all this had something to do with Jeremy. Lily wouldn’t really stay for a ball. Abruptly Harry got out of bed, went to the study, and poured himself a stiff drink. He wound up sleeping on the sofa. He just couldn’t stand to be in the same bed with Lily that night.

T
HE NEXT WEEK, LILY
and Harry walked into the El Al waiting room at Idlewild and were greeted by the most extraordinary sight they had ever seen. It was a kaleidoscope of color, sound, and smells, as a dizzying array of humanity jostled for space in the huge waiting room. It was February of 1951, and the tide of immigration to Israel was rising as never before, accompanied by enormous fund-raising efforts for the newly formed state.

There were scores of middle-aged Jewish women from New York on a mission for Hadassah who spoke rapid, broken English interspersed with Yiddish.

And there were Baptist ministers and their wives, all with thick southern accents. Twenty-five Italians from Chicago were going to the Holy Land to make a novena.

Most alien of all were the Hasidim, whose long earlocks fell from under wide-brimmed hats. The little Hasidic boys were exact miniature replicas of their fathers, minus the beards. The wives sat in close ranks, so much alike in their identical brown wigs and ill-fitting black dresses, it would have been impossible to tell them apart. Each woman guarded a mammoth brown paper bag bulging with kosher foods, emanating pungent odors of herring and kosher pickles.

The Hasidim could not be too safe, it seemed, or too cautious. Even the kosher food served aboard El Al was suspect; no Hasid ever traveled without his own supply.

Lily noted with surprise that there was even a small contingent of Japanese, huddled together with their canvas bags. It seemed that Israel, among other things, represented a potential market, and the Japanese, attempting to rebound from the economic devastation of the war, were leaving no stone unturned in pursuit of new markets.

In sharp contrast to the colorful ethnic assemblage, there were several elegantly dressed ladies representing the United Jewish Appeal. Their mission was to absorb inspiration from Israel’s enormous need, then return to the United States to impart to others the urgency of supporting Israel.

As the time approached for boarding, Lily steeled herself for the moment when Harry and she would say their good-byes. The last week things had been strained between them. She was hoping that somehow she would find the right words so they might part on a positive note.

Now that he was actually leaving, she had a sudden panicky feeling that she had made the wrong decision, that she should be waiting, bags packed, to board with him.

But the waiting room provided distraction. It had become more and more crowded as the departure time approached, and the air was so thick with the scents of perfume, perspiration, and delicatessen that Lily began to hope they’d soon board.

But a full five hours after the scheduled departure time, no boarding announcement had come. Harry had gone up and inquired several times, but was given the same evasive reply each time: As soon as the plane was ready, the announcement would be made to board.

Then, quite suddenly, a young Israeli materialized and picked up the microphone. An expectant stir ran through the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced calmly. “There will be a delay in the departure of flight number 638. Please feel free to visit the duty-free shops, but stay within the El Al boarding area in order to hear any further announcements. Thank you for your cooperation.”

She repeated the announcement in Hebrew and French.

Lily and Harry exchanged impatient looks. Five hours late, and that was all El Al had to say? All around them, there was evidence of other travelers’ restlessness and discontent.

The only ones who appeared calm and unflurried were the Hasidim. Nonchalantly, the wives opened their brown paper bags and passed out mammoth corned-beef sandwiches on dark Russian rye, along with kosher dills and paper cups of cream soda. The elegant ladies representing Israeli bonds looked on in disgust. They clucked their tongues in disapproving criticism. But Harry watched with increasing fascination. He was only too glad for something to take his mind off his perhaps not so imminent departure.

Ever since he had broken the news of his trip to Lily, he had been unable to concentrate on the work that lay ahead of him. However hard he tried to deny it to himself, her refusal to accompany him had troubled him deeply. Over and over he asked himself why, but rational analysis seemed beyond him. He could only be overwhelmed by bitterness. Once again, she was deserting him at a critical juncture.

All week there had been an uneasy truce between them as he assembled the material he would need for his prolonged stay, while she vainly tried to proceed with the ball preparations as though everything were normal. Nevertheless, it had been a very silent ride this morning to the airport.

Now, however, as he watched the Hasidim, he began to forget his anger. He was strangely drawn to these people with their air of being set apart. They seemed somehow like the Patriarchs of old, the mortar that held Judaism together. They, of all Jews, still truly kept the faith, the ancient covenant.

It was quite different from anything he had known. The Kohles had been comfortable in their Judaism, true to their beliefs. Harry had been the only one ever to marry a Gentile. But they had belonged to a Reform congregation and had never observed kosher laws. In fact, they regarded the observance as being antiquated.

However, as he began in
The Genesis
to explore the character of a man who had been the fulcrum of the struggle to bring about the new Israel, he had begun to explore what Judaism really meant.

According to the anthropologists, their race should have been extinct centuries ago. But something had brought them together as a people, through centuries of diaspora and persecution. There were the beliefs and rituals and holy days of Judaism—but fundamentally, the strength of the Jews seemed to lie in the fact that they simply refused to be beaten. Here they were, alive and thriving in the twentieth century even after the horrifying, horrendous revelations of Buchenwald and Dachau. These were an indomitable people; the roses of Zion—still blooming through the broken headstones on the Mount of Olives while battle had raged all about them—were an apt emblem.

Standing in the midst of this mass of humanity bound for their Promised Land, Harry was filled with an intense awareness of his heritage as a Jew. He thanked the Lord that he was a writer. For now he was going to the source, where he was going to give birth to
The Genesis
, the novel that would reveal the inner strength and hardiness of his race.

He thought again of Lily, how, as a Gentile, she could ill appreciate the significance of this journey—She really doesn’t understand at all how important this is to me, how
The Genesis
is not merely a book, but a mission—and how much I need her standing behind me….

And so they sat with their separate thoughts, close enough to touch each other, but already on opposite sides of an unbridgeable gap.

“Maybe we should inquire again about why there is such a delay,” she suggested.

“I doubt they’ll tell us anything. I’m sure it has something to do with security.”

There was a strained silence, and then he said stiffly, “There’s no need for you to stay if you’re getting tired.”

“Of course I’m staying, until you’re safely in the air.”

There was no further conversation between them, as Harry took out his briefcase and began leafing through his notes.

Finally a voice came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have received word that El Al flight number 637 was delayed in Tel Aviv due to security problems. It is now in the air and should be in New York in less than three hours. El Al wishes to thank you for your patience.”

There was a collective moan. The elegant ladies of the United Jewish Appeal looked positively wilted. There was no question that they would not have scorned the bag lunches of the Hasidim at this point. Only the Japanese bore the same impassive looks as upon their arrival.

Meanwhile the voice continued. “El Al has arranged for a meal to be served at the airport hotel. If you will kindly go to the second landing, there will be buses to take you there. Passes will be issued as you leave. Again, El Al thanks you.”

Thankful for the prospect of a break from the now-familiar waiting room, everyone but the Hasidim got up stiffly, stretched, and filed out. There was a bumpy bus ride to the hotel, and then the bedraggled would-be travelers straggled wearily into the dining room.

The hostess said briskly, “All right, those who take kosher, stand to the right, the others to the left.”

“Kosher?” inquired a Baptist lady curiously. “What does that mean, Clyde?”

“I believe,” drawled her husband, “they got some kinda rule says they can’t eat a piece of meat along with their milk at the same time.”

“Well, I declare!” she said, staring in wonder at those assembling in the kosher line.

The kitchen staff had geared up for the invasion, and as the meat eaters sat to one side and the dairy to the other, the meals began to arrive.

The meat eaters were given a choice of Mendelbaum lamb or chicken frozen dinners in paper containers. The lamb was tough, while the kasha tasted like glue—but the chicken eaters fared no better. The birds were gamey and stringy. The mashed potatoes were soggy. After one taste, the Baptists shoved them aside and made a meal of their Kaiser rolls, defiantly spreading them with butter. But the dairy group had a feast. Back and forth went platters of lox and whitefish, herring in sour cream, dill pickles, Greek olives, cottage, Swiss cheese and cream cheese, potato salad and cole slaw, along with bagels, rolls, and rye bread. To top it off, they ate luscious apple strudel with a perfect flaky crust while the meat group watched enviously. But before anyone was barely finished, another announcement was made: they had five minutes to assemble in the lobby for the buses to take them back to the El Al terminal.

When they were back in the waiting room once again, the travelers’ patience had worn thin. Nine hours, Lily thought, closing her lids wearily over aching eyes. How much longer would they be kept waiting?

The long-awaited announcement finally came. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now ready to board. El Al thanks you for your patience. Have an enjoyable trip. Shalom.”

Lily’s fatigue was suddenly replaced by alarm as Harry stood up to go through the line. What could they say to one another as they parted? She didn’t want Harry to leave with this rift between them still. But pride prevented her from saying the words she might have said. She would have abandoned the ball, all her obligations, half her life for him. In truth, all she wanted was to be first in his life, to mean more to him than anything else, even his work. And she knew that if Harry were to say, even then, at the very last minute, “Darling, I can’t bear to be parted from you. Please come with me!” she would reply, “I’ll be on the next plane.”

But all he said, after a long, searching look, was, “Take care of yourself, Lily.”

“You too.” She tried to smile through lips stiff with misery.

If she had only known that in truth Harry longed to say, “Dammit, Lily, I love you! Come with me!” But he too had his pride. If she didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t beg her. He couldn’t bear to have his appeal rejected yet again. But as he turned and handed his ticket to the attendant, his heart ached with a misery he had rarely known. She was being so unfair to him. This latest separation only conjured the horrors of the last one and the awful reason for it. If Harry was pulling away from Lily, it was mainly because her refusal to go with him made him feel all her blame again.

The truth was that he had loved her from the moment he had met her and would love her until the day he died. And that at this moment he was so angry with her that he almost wished he didn’t.

And so they stood, imprisoned by unspoken griefs, silenced by their pride. They kissed each other lightly on the lips, then clung to one another for a long moment before Harry turned and mounted the stairs to the plane.

She waved, tears welling up in her eyes as she vainly wished she could have said what was in her heart.

H
ARRY SAT BY THE
window, staring out into the darkness, feeling disgruntled and confused. It was almost five in the morning before the propeller-driven plane finally revved up its motors, taxied down the runway, and, after a mercifully brief wait for clearance, took off. From the length and breadth of the plane there was a collective sigh of relief as the giant bird became airborne.