A new morning shone on Kibbutz Shomrei Zion, a religious
kibbutz about ten kilometers north of Haifa. Had Rafi taken a
peek out the window of the Shor's small bungalow in which he
resided, he would have seen a smiling sun, shining its rays
on the world about him. He would have seen early-bird farmers
cheerfully getting ready for a day of hard work. He would
have heard the birds singing a lilting tune in unity, and the
playful barking of the waking dogs. But Rafi didn't peek out
the window. He had shut himself off from the outside world
quite a while ago.
For the past seven years, Rafi had been pushed from one
foster family to another. His father had passed away while he
was still an infant; his mother had raised him as best she
could until he was five. Then she became ill and hadn't the
strength to care for him alone any longer. That was when
Ronit had come into the picture.
Ronit was a sensitive, idealistic social worker. Even as a
youngster, she had always chosen to befriend the less
fortunate girls at school. In third grade, it had been Mimi,
the girl who wore a light shabby jacket on the coldest of
days when everyone else bundled up in thick down coats and
woolen scarves. Ronit would invite her home often and Mimi
always accepted an invitation, but never did she invite Ronit
to her home. One day, Ronit secretly followed Mimi home and
found that she lived in a run-down government housing
development in the poorest section of town. From that day on,
she would find different ways of secretly getting Mimi things
she needed and she always succeeded.
In high school it had been Rivi, the girl who never had her
homework done on time, the one who often fell asleep during
class. Ronit's highly developed senses told her that Rivi
wasn't just lazy, that there was a deeper meaning to her odd
behavior. She made a point to call Rivi every day and have a
friendly chat with her, thereby building Rivi's confidence in
her. At some point, Rivi revealed to her that she had no
mother and that all the mother's responsibilities fell on her
own two shoulders. Ronit organized groups of girls who would
go and help Rivi on different days, in a cheerful and
friendly manner, as if they had just popped in because they
had nothing better to do with their time. In short:
everywhere she went, Ronit found people to help and she
always managed to do so without making them feel needy or
nebich.
Naturally, when she grew up. she chose social work as a
vocation, but she wasn't the type of professional who sits
behind a desk, glasses slipping down her nose, who asked
prying questions, carefully recording her client's every word
in a manila folder. Rather, she was the kind who tried to
make every homeless child feel needed and loved. To give him
a purpose in life and make him feel significant. But with
Rafi, she wasn't very successful.
Rafi was smart, an `A' student who won every school contest,
a mathematical genius, a Number 1 boy in all his teachers'
books. But grades just aren't everything. Brains are not the
only key to a happy life. A person must be able to deal with
life as well. A person needs the inner strength that helps
one overcome the challenges that life sets before him. He
needs the life jacket that helps him surface again once the
wave has rushed beyond. Unfortunately, that was something
that Rafi just didn't have.
Rafi had liked the first foster home to which he had been
brought. A young energetic mother with a couple of kids just
about his own age, Mrs. Weiss had been ideal for a young five-
year-old. But very soon Rafi grew homesick. He missed his
mother, who had always given him undivided attention. He had
been an only child and was used to being doted upon. To gain
more attention, he became troublesome, to a point that Mrs.
Weiss, as energetic and well-meaning as she was, could no
longer handle him and had no choice but to ask Ronit to find
him a new home. Rafi's self esteem broke, as he concluded
that he was unwanted. Ronit tried her best to explain that he
was just going to a different family that had fewer children,
where he'd be given more attention.
Rafi was taken to the Grossmans, a kind, elderly couple whose
children were already married. He was given everything a
child his age could desire, but after a while, Mrs.
Grossman's age caught up with her, or rather, lagged behind
Rafi's growing energy and needs. As much as she loved him,
she had to give Rafi up.
The next home didn't work out either, and by the time he
moved into the Shor's home on Kibbutz Shomrei Zion, his self
esteem was only a memory. The love the Shors showered upon
him was too late to help. His spirit was crushed and he was
sure that it was only a matter of time before this family
gave up on him, too.
Rafi was on his worst behavior from the moment he entered
their home. "If they're going to get rid of me, let them do
it right away and not keep me in suspense!" he thought to
himself. But the Shors would not give up so easily. They had
braced themselves for a broken child and were determined to
see him happy and well- adjusted, despite the trouble he was
causing them.
*
Achmad paced the floor nervously, impatiently looking at his
watch. "He should have been here ten minutes ago! I wonder
what's keeping him! How could anything have gone wrong?
Everything was all worked out to the last detail."
At that moment the door opened and Mustafa burst into the
dingy, smelly basement. He looked around. "Where are they?"
he asked in his usual cold voice. Achmad pointed to the
covered desk in the corner. "There!" he answered, no less
impatiently. "How much longer until we plant them?"
"I was planning to finish up the whole business this week but
Mohammed reported that there'll be extra security there this
week. It'll have to wait till next week."
"Next week? Ya'alla! We can't afford to keep the stuff
in the basement all that time. It's way too dangerous."
"We have no choice."
"That's easy for you to say," Achmad sneered. "This basement
is rented in my name, remember?"
"It would not be very advisable for you to drop out . . ."
Mustafa's icy tone had turned threatening.
*
"Rise and shine, Rafi!" Aviva Shor sang out in her pleasant
voice. "It's pancakes for breakfast with a yummy strawberry
sauce. If you're at all interested, Uncle Daniel is willing
to take you and a couple of friends to the new indoor water
park in Haifa. It's supposed to be something great!" She
bustled out of the room. Rafi turned over and went back to
sleep, totally ignoring her. He wasn't interested in any old
water parks. They were so babyish!
An hour later, Aviva peeked into Rafi's room again. He was
still sleeping. She wasn't angry. No, she was just sorry. For
Rafi.
"Time to get up, Rafi," she called out softly. He got up
grumpily, dressed and left for minyan. It was Chanuka
vacation. Rafi was not at all interested in going to the
water park, but his foster father had already gotten a group
of boys together and he didn't want to look too ungrateful,
so he went grudgingly along.
Daniel and Aviva continued to give Rafi all they had. They
made sure to tell him how much they loved and admired him.
Without his help, many of his classmates would not be able to
make the grade. They tried to build up his shattered self-
image but nothing worked. Rafi was convinced that this was
one long show which would soon be over. He didn't believe
that there were any people who could or would commit
themselves to loving him on a long-term basis. He barely
trusted Ronit any more.
Some time later, Aviva welcomed him home with news. "Your
Rebbe called up today. It seems that some Russian boys will
be joining your class soon and they'll need special help. He
says that the school has a special government fund to pay for
their tutoring and he feels you will be a perfect candidate
for the job. What do you say?" Rafi agreed to try, but
without much enthusiasm. How long could such a job last if he
expected to be `relocated' at any time in the future. Not
that the Shors had indicated it in any way, but that's how it
had been in the past.
*
"Is it all in order?" Mustafa's voice crackled through the
cell phone.
"Al hakefak!"
"Can I trust you to find your way there?"
"Inshallah." Achmad sighed. After all the rehearsals,
they still didn't trust him.
"So Muhammed will be there at seven twenty-eight sharp,
correct?"
"Aiwa."
"And the name of the joint is Shomrei Zion, right?"
"Yeah." Mustafa replaced the receiver with a wily smile.
Serve those Zionists right...
*
Rafi slammed the door and ran down the three stairs leading
from the Shor house to the paved sidewalk. He wasn't angry at
anybody, so there hadn't even been good reason for slamming
the door. Perhaps it was just for the effect. Rafi wanted to
be alone. Alone with no one but the trees, wind and sea.
These companions made him feel at peace.
No one knew their way around the kibbutz better than Rafi. He
knew every route there was to explore. This time he chose a
roundabout way that went through the petting zoo at the far
end of the kibbutz. There were chicken coops and rabbit
cages, a wired-in meadow for sheep and a small pond for ducks
and geese. There was a candling house for visitors to watch
eggs being candled for bloodspots. Rafi passed by all this,
deep in thought. From the corner of his eye he could see
someone standing near the exit. As he approached, he heard
two men talking in gutteral Arabic. Their backs were turned
to him but there was no mistaking them. Rafi looked for a
place to hide and dived into a nearby pile of hay. Just in
time.
Rafi saw a bulky package changing hands. The heavyset man
took it and entered the chicken coop. Rafi's mouth fell open
in surprise. The door was not locked. He saw the package
being hid in a large basket used for collecting eggs, then
covered over with a cloth. Rafi listened carefully to their
conversation. Luckily, he had taken Arabic that year and
could understand what they were saying.
"The kibbutz kids will be here soon to feed the animals and
clean up. The bomb is scheduled to go off in half an hour.
Wait on the road on the other side of the kibbutz until you
hear it detonate. Then drive off to the basement where I'll
be waiting for you with Mustafa. If anything goes wrong, be
sure to call." Achmad nodded. It was very clear.
As soon as the two men were out of sight, Rafi leaped out and
ran to the nearest phone to call the police. Within a few
minutes, they arrived, dismantled the bomb and caught the
unsuspecting Achmad. He was taken for interrogation and it
turned out that Mustafa had been behind many more scenes of
terror. Within the hour, the kibbutz was overrun with
reporters who interviewed the young hero and photographed him
for various newspapers.
*
"Aunt Aviva, what time did you say she was coming?"
"Who, Ronit? In another hour. Why?"
"Because Yehuda just called. He wants to join us."
"Er, Rafi, how many kids are you taking along?"
"I think we can squeeze six or seven into the Mercedes."
"I think you had better let Ronit know. I doubt that she
expected more than two or three..."
*
Ronit sat back and watched the boys riding horseback. They
all seemed to be having a good time, especially Rafi. He'd
changed a lot since that meeting with the terrorists.
"A child's heart is so delicate. Like a guitar, you need to
know which string to pluck. Strange, though, that terrorism
was able to accomplish what torrents of love could not." She
peered off at the distant Mount Carmel and imagined she could
see musical notes dancing around in the wind.
