Sitting alone in the King David Hotel, the Israeli Jew watched his
coffee eddy as he twirled his spoon in the cup, obviously deep in
thought. An Arab approached, waved to a waiter, and pointed to the
Jew's coffee cup, signaling that he wanted one. He sat, jostling
the table, bringing the Jew out of his thoughts. "Salaam," the Arab
said, greeting the Jew in Arabic. "Shalom," the Jew returned the
greeting in Hebrew. The two men sat silently, sipping coffee. They
were slight in build, darkened by the Middle Eastern sun. One
called his homeland Palestine; the other, Israel. Their families
had been cautiously friendly for a millennium. But when their
children neared their teens, both families frowned on continuing
the friendship. Although each family considered itself People of
the Book, they had limited social contact between boys and girls
since the days of the Prophets, fearing the mixing of bloodlines.
"They were good kids, Hajji. They only meant to be friends," the
Jew said as he rose to leave. "I know, Hesh. I know," the Arab
responded, wiping a tear from his face as he rose to leave. "Salaam
alaikem," he added, as he placed his hand on the Jew's shoulder.
"Shalom alaichem," the Jew answered, returning the salutation of
|Country of origin:
||152 x 229 x 9mm (L x W x T)
||Paperback - Trade
Genre fiction >
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