Free Raquela by Ruth Gruber Page B

hurried past them; others strode like lovers, arm in arm.
    They entered the pillared pergola linking the library with the tall Humanities building. They paused for a moment, looking through the open colonnades at the terraced garden below; then they made their way down the steps into the garden and gravitated toward a large circular bench, with an unobstructed view of the Old City.
    Carmi took her in his arms and kissed her. The wind hurried through the Jerusalem pines.
    She shivered, chilled and warm, exhilarated and uncertain. They sat on the bench, looking at the luminous panorama below them.
    The Old City looked magical. The golden Dome of the Rock stood out like a jewel amid the spires and minarets and the battle walls that framed the ancient city where David had reigned and Solomon had built his temple. The sky darkened, suffusing the bustling courtyards and streets where Señora Vavá and all the generations of Papa’s family had lived and loved and died.
    Beyond the Old City, new Jerusalem rose up on the gentle hills in the west and the south—Bet Hakerem and its neighboring Jewish and Arab suburbs catching the last light in the sky.
    â€œCarmi”—Raquela broke the spell—“I must know the truth.”
    â€œWhat truth? What greater truth is there than this sight we’re looking at? I want to imprint it, like a woodcut, on my brain. From now on, no matter where they send me, every time I think of you, I will see you here, on Mount Scopus, looking down on the Old City.”
    â€œCarmi,” she said, “Debby says you still see each other.”
    â€œIts not true. We haven’t even spoken to each other for weeks.”
    â€œShe told me you even plan to get married when the war is over.”
    Carmi turned his body toward her and put his hands on her shoulders.
    â€œNow, listen to me, Raquela. Debby and I had it out. She’s too jealous. I couldn’t take it any more. She was always complaining that I didn’t love her enough. Every time I sneezed, she thought it was an excuse not to see her. If I met an old schoolfriend on the street, she asked me if I had been in love with her, and maybe still was. I told her we were finished.”
    â€œBut she’s a bright girl. Why doesn’t she believe you?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe it was something in her childhood. She lost her father when she was still living in Haifa and she was about five. I think she blames him for deserting her. I don’t think she can trust any man. She’s always looking for love—and then she can’t accept it when it comes. She’s bright, all right; but as I got to know her more, I knew our relationship was all wrong for both of us.”
    â€œI guess her pride is hurt,” Raquela said slowly. “Maybe that’s why she still keeps your photo on her shelf. It’s very fashionable to have a boyfriend in the army.”
    He smiled. “Now you have one, too.”
    He embraced her again. She felt his strong slim body, his masculinity, his love, enveloping her.
    â€œI’ll be thinking of you every minute while I’m away,” he whispered in her ear. “And I’ll write you every single day.”
    He was crushing her against his uniform. “Wait for me, Raquela.” He breathed the words. “I’ll come back from the war. Wait for me.”
    She trembled in his arms.
    â€œI’ll wait, Carmi.”
    Silently, she added, “Carmi, stay alive!”
    At lunch in the dining room the next day, Judith pulled up a chair beside Raquela.
    â€œDebby’s telling everyone you stole her boyfriend.”
    Raquela stopped eating. “What?”
    â€œShe says someone saw you kissing him last night.”
    â€œI’m going up to talk to her right now.” Raquela ran out of the dining room.
    Upstairs, Debby was tossing clothes into her bag. The shelves over her bed were bare.
    Raquela’s anger subsided.