The Barrier

Chapter One: The Return

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I gazed across the cruel, wire fence on the back of my camel, my view bouncing up and down with the rhythm of her step. The sun scorched overhead, making the coarse, black hair against my neck drench in sweat. Heat waves rippled across the desert like ocean waves, and for a split second I thought the fence had disappeared and things were the way they used to be. But no, it was just a mirage, concocted from the hopes and dreams that had filled me ever since the day...

My eyes snapped back to the road ahead, for my uncle’s coughing from the dust had distracted me from my daydreaming. I gripped my camel, Sela’s, saddle tighter, the rough leather felt familiar against my calloused hands. My toes curled in my sandals, and my stomach began to dance. I couldn’t help but smile, petting Sela and sweet-talking to the camel I had watched grow since her birth. “We’re almost there,” I cooed.

“You know it can’t understand you, Malka,” my younger brother, Itzak, called to me from behind. “It’s just doing its job and chewing its cud.”

I turned around to look at him, for I had completely unnoticed his arms wrapped around my waist after riding for so long. His legs barely dangled over the sides, and sweat was dripping from his bangs that dipped over his cool, brown eyes unevenly. He had a mischievous look about him, which was probably why my ima named him the word for “laughter”, following in the footsteps of Sarah. Still, I frowned at him. “‘It’ is a she, and maybe I like to pretend that she knows what I am saying.” I swung my head around with extra force, brushing my hair into the face of my brother and tickling his nose.

Looking forwards again, I could see in the distance through the dust and heat the outline of our destination. The road that we were riding along side of was a hint as well, for the traffic was completely diminished except for the occasional small car. The outline of the kibbutz glistened against the clear, Israeli blue sky, and at that moment, I wanted to jump off of Sela and say a prayer of thanks to HaShem for finally returning home after so long.

Aba made our small caravan trot a bit faster, and his anticipation of arriving was beginning to show through. I tapped Sela with my heels and rode to the front of group across from Aba and Ima.

“Ima,” I called to my mother, “can you see it?”

Ima smiled at me and nodded. “Never have I felt so relieved to see home. This feeling must be a good sign; I think we will produce more honey than ever before!”

We came from the Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, which was famous not only for the memorial of Mordechai Anielewicz, but also for our delicious honey. This is where most of our business came from, but a few people had picked up the weaving skill from Ashkelon, about six miles north. We were extremely close to the Gaza Strip, and to the surprise of some people, it had been rather peaceful and quiet. However, because of the current events, it had become a little more nosier than usual. Aba saw this as the opportunity to take a business excursion to Jerusalem until it quieted down. We had been very successful in our sales, for our honey was famous, but things had mostly returned to normal, and it was time to come home.

Before we had left Jerusalem, Aba had taken our family on a shopping spree of sorts. He let us pick out whatever we wanted as long as it was within reason. Itzak and I had been extrememly excited about this, but once we thought about it, there was nothing that we really wanted. However, the extra money in our pockets was begging to be spent, and so Itzak purchased a few games and a new soccer ball, and I found a few pieces of gorgeous jewelry. Ima was glad I had decided on jewelry, because she always wanted to fawn over feminine things with her daughter.

One pair of earrings that I had bought were dangling from my ears, and I often reached up to make sure that they were still there. I wasn’t used to such wonderful trickets; we had been taught to save money and not waste it on unessentials. I suppose Aba was in a good mood that day.

Yad Mordechai was coming clearer into view as we continued on, and the relief of coming down the homestretch permeated throughout the entire group. I stroked Sela’s mane to keep my excitement contained, and I could feel Itzak’s grip around my waist tighten. He lay his head on my back and let out a sigh of exhaustion. It was good to be home.

We passed by an army tank stopped on the other side of the road, a few soldiers engrossed in what seemed to be a heated argument. I clutched Itzhak’s hands on my belly. He still had many years before he was to go into the army, and we were fortunate that Aba hadn’t been called from the reserves to help yet. It was scary to see the men of the kibbutz being called from their homes to fight, even if it was for our protection. I suddenly felt very lucky.

Smiles and waving greeted us from the people who were working outside. Most peered through windows because they weren’t used to seeing the camels. It was sometimes a little bit embarrassing to ride the camels when around other people, but when alone with the caravan, it made it even more of an adventure. Aba’s roots traced back to the first settlers of Israel, so he wanted to keep the tradition of traveling on camelback. Of course, he mostly took the car, but for adventure-like trips such as to Jerusalem, he wanted the camels.

Apparently, we weren’t the only ones returning. One of the men had just returned from the Gaza City for business, and I picked up pieces of conversations as we rode through the kibbutz to our own land. The Eretz Crossing had been keeping even tighter security than usual, and it was a bit for troublesome to get back out, but of course, it was for the best.

Well, at least to keep the terrorists and suicide bombers out. For the innocent, it was just a nuisance. Aba and Ima didn’t care anymore, though; it wasn’t not like they would ever consider going back. Not since we were kicked out.

Personally, I didn’t understand why they were so mad at the Israeli government. Our life wasn’t all that great in Gaza. In fact, living in the kibbutz was a million times better. We made more money, we had more friends, and we weren’t living in constant fear. (Okay, we still lived in some fear, but just not as much.) I assumed that it was because of tradition. I mean, our family had lived there for decades, and to just be told one day that we couldn’t live there anymore was frustrating. Still, I’m glad we moved anyway.

Except I missed Liron.

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A/N: This is just the exposition, most of the background and introduction. Tell me if you like it, because if it’s good, I’ll definitely continue!

Just to let you know, yes, this story will have some of the elements of “Romeo and Juliet”, but the plot will be completely different.

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