I could not control my labouring breath. She was abused. That’s what she meant when she said they treat us like dogs.
I knew that my father was unconscious of the drama that was playing out between us.
‘Then she said, and I quote: “The Jew put me inside a military plane.”’
My father coughed. He took a few more gulps of coffee.
‘All of us were on our knees in the pews,’ my father said. ‘And I know Bob and the others did not appreciate or understand that picture of, you know, her skirt, the military, a child being, I don’t know, grabbed? It could not have been on purpose. This did not happen on purpose. And why use that word in particular? Jew. Yes, okay, we all know Israel has a military…’
‘It sounds like she was just speaking her truth,’ my mother finally interrupted. ‘I don’t think this is about the discomfort of Bob or whoever.’
‘Yeah, I know that, Ruth. I know that, but you weren’t there. It was a little embarrassing for the other kids in the program, too.’
Before my mother and father could get into some kind of fresh melee, I asked: ‘Was she crying?’
My mother looked at me and smiled. Maybe feeling vulnerable was good.
‘She was talking about some sticker on her forehead,’ my father continued. ‘Some number on her forehead that was put on the sticker and she said she didn’t remember the number… She seemed uncomfortable, we were uncomfortable, that’s all I knew. And then she told us that they measured her forehead and took her fingerprints and gave her drugs. This was in Israel, not Ethiopia. She started talking about some “holding camp.” That’s what she called it. She said they measured her head in a holding camp. Ruth, I’m telling you, she made it sound like some kind of program of eugenics. And this was supposed to be a good evening for us, good for fundraising, light stuff, and she made it look bad on us, okay? It looks really, really bad.’
The line between my mother’s eyes was as straight as a ruler.
‘She was making the Jews look like monsters, okay?’
‘I think you mean Nazis,’ my mother said.
My father cursed. ‘Jesus. That’s cheap.’
The melee between them could not be prevented. I thought about Barbra’s head measured and taped.
‘What that girl said was a lie, Ruth. She said she arrived in Israel “all alone.” She said she was in a “camp,” okay, for six weeks.’’
I imagined Bob Cunningham and my father rushing the stage, my father gripping Barbra’s elbow and Barbra letting herself be passed off to Bob in the wings. I imagined my father heading back out to explain to the men and all the other exchange students that Operation Solomon was a miracle! Israel rescued fourteen thousand persecuted, starving Jews in under two days!
‘Barbra obviously carries trauma about this,’ my mother said.
‘But there were no “holding camps” in Israel, Ruth! Maybe the Ethiopians were held somewhere for a day after landing – a few days, tops.’
I believed the term: holding camps. I believed term exile, too.
‘Barbra clearly identifies as an oppressed young woman,’ my mother said slowly, standing up. ‘And this is a form of selfempowerment for her. You and Bob and, look, the whole Rotary Club, you have to accept this. You cannot bring kids here and – what? – not accept they might have some psychological needs? Not every girl is a pre-med, okay? Why can’t she tell you she’s conflicted? Why can’t you see that she’s in pain?’
‘Shhh, Ruth, stop it. It’s not that,’ my father hissed. I know he was afraid of Barbra hearing him call her a liar. ‘That girl has had every advantage after being rescued from poverty and a country that did not want her. She grew up in Israel. She was rescued when she was five.’
‘Coming to Israel at five does not mean blank slate.’
‘But saying she was alone for six weeks in a camp? A) That’s a lie, Ruth, and B) provocative! Is she suggesting that Israel did something wrong? I mean, that is crazy! It’s just crazy. It’s backwards. Upside down.’
Upside down. Backwards. I started to falter.
‘The Rotarians evidently need some trauma education,’ my mother said. ‘There is a tendency – and this has been proven ?
?? for relocated kids to dissociate.’
‘Relocate? Dissociate? Ruth, it’s called making aliyah!’
My mother yawned. ‘I think we should all have some empathy for that scared little girl who was taken from her home and very likely abused.’
‘Abused? She was given a home. She was adopted, for Christ’s sake. She was taken care of by Jews! She is a Jew! The Rotarians understand – they know about Operation Solomon. And they believe that Israel has a right to exist! Everything, my God, is not about trauma and abuse!’