Recap: Vanna and Aida are hiding in the closet while the police search the house. Aida prays that the police will leave and not find them).
The police stomped through the house. They were so close that we could hear them breathing, but, thank G-d, they didn’t notice the camouflage door to the closet. I thanked Hashem that my father hadn’t put the knob on it. I kept davening for Hashem to make the police leave.
Finally, we heard them march away. Vanna wanted to leave the closet, but I whispered, “We should wait. They may be right outside writing a report. Let’s wait to leave.”
Half an hour later, we cautiously left the closet. Aunt Bea was sitting in the living room reciting T’hilim. “You can’t stay here,” she said. “You are both wanted by the Muhaberat. When it’s very dark, Aida, you and Vanna should go to Rabbi H. I don’t know what else to suggest.”
I hugged my aunt. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you more.”
Vanna and I packed up some food. I packed some clothing for both of us. Vanna couldn’t go back to her aunt’s house for anything. We waited until midnight.
I felt my heart pounding. It was scary to leave the house, but it was scary to stay in it.
I opened the door and peered around. The street was quiet. You never know who can be lurking but I didn’t see anyone on the street. The only sound was the hum of insects and a soft breeze rustling the Syrian Maples on the walkway.
“I think we can go now,” I whispered.
I gazed around my house: the living room with Grandfather’s mantle clock, the paintings Ima made long ago of scenic views by a lake. Though, I’d wanted to leave Syria for a long time, it was still hard to leave my childhood home.
I stepped outside and walked in the shadow of the trees and buildings of the Jewish quarter. Vanna followed close behind me.
I felt my heart jump at every sound. Once, a cat leaped out at us and I almost screamed. Then we heard a truck rumbling by, and we both bolted behind some garbage cans.
The usual walk to Rabbi H seemed much longer.
We crept along, listening for any sign of sirens or police. My worst fear was thinking of Mrs. Abbar or her husband. I tried to wipe away the thought of them, because it made it hard for me to press forward.
Finally, we reached Rabbi H’s house. I hurried to the door and knocked. Vanna stayed in the shadows, waiting. The Rebbetzin opened the door.
She motioned me inside and Vanna darted in after me.
The Rebbetzin looked startled to see a Muslim girl with me.
“I’ll explain,” I said.
Rabbi H came out of his study. He looked tired, and I suddenly realized that I was imposing on him by my coming here at midnight.
“I’m sorry to come here so late. It’s just that it’s an emergency.”
I introduced Vanna and explained how she’d fled to my house from her aunt and uncle and how she’d risked her life to help me.
“I wouldn’t have come now, this late,” I said. “It’s just that the police came to our house searching for me and for Vanna.”
Rabbi H stroked his beard. His forehead creased with worry.
“It is good you have come. We must get both of you out of Syria tonight.”
I hadn’t expected him to say that. It suddenly hit me. I would be leaving Ima and Aba and who knew when I would see either of them again. I felt a strange tightness in my throat.
“My parents,” I whispered.
“We will continue to work to free your father, and your mother must go abroad with a medical visa. With Hashem’s help you will all reunite.”
“Amein,” I murmured wondering how that could ever happen.
“Vanna, you will have to pretend that you are a Jewish girl. It is much too risky for my smuggler to find out who you are. If they do find out, they won’t take you. Everyone fears Mr. Abbar.”
Vanna nodded slowly. “I will do what you say, Rabbi.”
The Rebbetzin left the room and then came back with a burka. “This is for you, Aida. It isn’t safe for you to look Jewish where you’re going.” I was going to have to wear this strange clothing.
Rabbi H then motioned us both to come into his office. “I have maps. I want you to see the route you will be taking to get to the hills between Lebanon and Syria. You need to know it, in case anything goes wrong with the smuggler who will act as your guide.”
My ability to memorize visually came in handy now. Hashem had given me that gift for a reason. I studied the map carefully and then I memorized it.
“I will call my contact. I hope he will come tonight, but it may be too late for tonight, in which case you will have to hide here until tomorrow night.”
I felt like this wasn’t real. Could I really be about to leave Syria?
To be continued…
Susie Garber is the author of an historical fiction novel, Flight of the Doves (Menucha Publishing, 2023), Please Be Polite (Menucha Publishers, 2022), A Bridge in Time (Menucha Publishing, 2021), Secrets in Disguise (Menucha Publishers, 2020), Denver Dreams (a novel, Jerusalem Publications, 2009), Memorable Characters…Magnificent Stories (Scholastic, 2002), Befriend (Menucha Publishers, 2013), The Road Less Traveled (Feldheim, 2015), fiction serials and features in Binah Magazine and Binyan Magazine, “Moon Song” in Binyan (2021-2022), and Alaskan Gold ( 2023-2024).
