Free The Book of Trees by Leanne Lieberman Page A

something.”
    “What’s up?” Andrew leaned back in his chair.
    Around me the others sang, “ You never give me your money .” I stopped playing the guitar and hugged it to my chest. I didn’t know where to start. “It’s about the trees here. I thought maybe you would know something about them. I don’t know very much about politics. Well, nothing at all.” I paused and tried to think of what to say next. Andrew sat, eyes wide, listening intently, ignoring the others around us. I felt my cheeks redden. “I’m going to start all over again.”
    “Take your time.”
    The travelers sang, “ And in the middle of negotiation, you break down .” The guitar felt good in my hands, like I was sitting in an old familiar position.
    I took a deep breath. “I was at this retreat this weekend, near Jerusalem, and there was this forest… well, it wasn’t really a forest, more like a park. Planted trees, one of those JNF forests—that means Jewish National Fund. I don’t know if you know about them. And then, all of a sudden it dawned on me—you’ll think this is really stupid—but there was this plaque that talked about the soldiers who died taking over the area. I guess I thought Israel was an empty country or that all the Arabs took off when the Jews arrived. I don’t know if I read that or—or if I just thought that.”
    “I think half the country is built over former Arab villages.”
    “Doesn’t that bother you?” I felt my forehead wrinkle. “I know there was a war and all, but I didn’t realize they did that with trees—planted over villages.”
    Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You win the war, you keep the land.”
    “I know. I just…well, maybe I didn’t know.”
    “The government is still taking over land.” His face lost its usual teasing grin.
    “Really?”
    “Sure. There’s this girl here, Sonia, who works for some peace organization. She was saying they force Palestinians to sell their land so they can build more Jewish housing.”
    “That’s terrible.”
    Andrew shrugged. “They don’t recognize the Palestinians as citizens.”
    I cracked my knuckles in my lap. “It seems so twisted to use trees to claim the land. I mean, I love trees.”
    Andrew nodded.
    “My grandmother used to send money to plant those JNF trees.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    I sighed and hugged my arms around me. “I was hoping you’d say something reassuring.”
    “Like?”
    “I don’t know. That it’s for a greater cause. My roommate says it was our land to start with.”
    Andrew rested one foot on his other knee. “And what do you think of that?”
    “I’m not sure what to think. I always thought being Jewish meant being moral and taking the higher ground.”
    “Seems to me the Jews are always killing for their land.”
    My face grew hot. “That’s because the Jews are always under attack. Someone is always trying to take away our land. And what about the Holocaust? Where were the Jews supposed to go after that?”
    Andrew shrugged. “Displacing other people only makes more problems. We should get Sonia over here. Hey, Sonia.”
    A thin girl wearing a bandanna over short dark hair looked at us across the circle. She had a nose ring and a tattoo of the sun on her exposed shoulder. Andrew motioned her over. “Mia and I were just talking politics, and I was telling her that you were our local expert.”
    Sonia grinned and shook her head. “What do you want to know?”
    “We were discussing what happened to the Palestinians after ’48. They all moved away, right?” He winked at me.
    Sonia gripped her bony hands together. “Some people left, but others had to flee, and others were killed.”
    I leaned forward. “Why didn’t they go to Arab countries?”
    “They weren’t wanted there and they still aren’t. This is their homeland.”
    “So that’s why there are terrorists?”
    Sonia shook her head. “If you lost your homeland, wouldn’t you fight for it? Jews created Israel through acts of