Chapter 21

By eleven-thirty, we finished loading our stuff into the trunk of his white Mercedes Benz. “You strike me as more of a Jaguar type of guy or black Mercedes.” I closed the trunk and walked to the passenger side.

“Climb into a black car in August, and you’ll understand why sixty percent of the cars in Israel are light gray, silver, or white. I’m not much of a car guy. This one seemed like a practical choice.”

“Hurry, climb in. Let’s put this practical car in gear and hit the road. I can’t wait to see the desert.”

I stared out the window, trying to memorize everything I saw. A half hour into the ride, we began our descent down the mountain, and the vegetation became sparse. Suddenly Avi slammed the brakes and threw his arm across my chest.

“What the hell?” I flinched, and my hand flew to my mouth. Growing up in Western Pennsylvania I was familiar with the occasional deer blocking the road, but the sight in front made me laughed out loud. Three giant camels stood in the middle of the road, staring at us. “They’re so ugly they’re cute,” I said. “What do we do now?” I rolled down the window, leaned out, and snapped a picture with his cell phone.

“They are not cute. They spit.” He threw the car into park and opened the door. “Watch, and you will see a skill no one has ever mastered in Pittsburgh.”

He walked toward the camels.

“Be careful,” I yelled out the window.

He turned and smiled at me. My heart pounded. I’d never heard of a wild camel attack, but that didn’t mean it never happened. Avi smacked the biggest one’s backside and kind of pushed it toward the side of the road. He waved his arm and began yelling in either Hebrew or Arabic--I couldn’t tell. Within a few moments, the two remaining camels lumbered off the side of the road and plodded into the desert.

He slid back into the driver seat and closed the door. “Strays. I’m sure the owner isn’t far away. I’m just glad they didn’t decide to sit down. It’s next to impossible for anyone, except the owner, to get a camel to stand up.”

I leaned over and hugged him. “My hero. That was scary.”

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Getting them off the road isn’t scary. Driving around a sharp turn and crashing into one is scary. Hitting a camel doesn’t have the same impact as hitting a squirrel or even a deer.”

He started the car. From the passenger window, I watched the creatures amble along the side of the road, until once again, the gang of three decided to stop walking. As we drove by them, I turned and watched them through the back window.

“Drive slow.” The camels stood arranged in a triangle, staring into nothing.

“To avoid hitting one, or so you can watch those three?” he asked.

“Both.” I continued staring as they became smaller and smaller, finally disappearing when the road curved around the mountainside.

The scenery outside the car fascinated me--sand, rocks, and scrub grass. Avi talked about the land and the average annual rainfall, explaining that when it did rain, the water rushed down the mountains, creating wadis. He pointed to what looked like a gulch down the mountain, saying that it would remain a dry river bed until the next rain came.

“Is that a joke?” I asked, interrupting his Geology 101 class, pointing to a green road sign with an arrow pointing to the left that read “Jericho.”

He quickly glanced over at me. “No, why would you think it’s a joke?”

“Jericho. Joshua. Big battle. I always thought that the towns named in the bible were ancient towns that may or may not have really existed, except Jerusalem, of course.”

“If you ask all the Arabs living there, they’ll assure you, it’s a real town.”

I watched the muscles on the side of his face move up and down as he spoke. If I lived to be a hundred and twenty, I would still be able to close my eyes and recall his strong jaw and high cheek bones, that set off the eyes I adored.

“Let’s go see it. We don’t have to stay long.”

A serious aura replaced his earlier light-hearted mood. “Bad idea.” He shook his head.

Something told me not to push the issue. “Okay, sexy tour guide. I won’t argue with you.” I stared through the passenger window at the mountains spiking across the Judaean Desert--dry, dusty, bleached by the sun, and eroded by wind. Nothing like the forest-covered Appalachian Mountains that ran through the middle of Pennsylvania.

At the bottom of the mountain, we made a right turn onto Route 90 South, which I learned is the lowest highway on Earth and The Dead Sea is the lowest spot on Earth. As we passed the road sign pointing to Qumran, Avi told me the story of how in 1947, Bedouin shepherds discovered clay jars in the mountain caves that contained the Dead Sea Scrolls. Over the course of ten years, more scrolls were discovered in eleven caves in the surrounding area.

After a few miles, the Dead Sea became visible. I stared at it. Impossible. I looked again. “Avi, it’s over a hundred degrees outside, and it looks like snow and ice on the water.” I squinted.

He twisted his neck and smiled at me. “Not snow, salt. We mine minerals from the salt and the mud on the bottom. As the water evaporates in the shallow areas, it crystallizes.

“Cool.” I stared out the window as we drove straight along the highway, occasionally interrupting his Dead Sea lesson with a question.

“Over there is Ein Gedi.” He pointed away from the sea toward the mountains. “It’s a desert oasis. We can go there tomorrow after we climb Masada.”

“Climb?”

“Yep, we’re going to get up at four-thirty, down a couple of energy bars and hotel-room coffee. Then we’re hiking up the mountain to watch the sunrise.” He glanced down at my flip flops. “Please tell me you packed your sneakers.”

“Never leave home without them, and why four-thirty? How about six or eight o’clock?”

“You have to get up before the heat index hits blood boiling. When I was a kid, my dad decided to do a family climb in July. We drove from Jerusalem and got to Masada at nine. That hike was brutal. Halfway up, my mom, the archaeologist, who would love to live in this desert, turned and walked back down. None of us have forgiven him for that climb.”

“How high is the mountain?” I asked, picturing the Allegheny Mountains that the Pennsylvania Turnpike crossed.

“About four hundred meters and it takes about an hour to climb.”

My insides relaxed--doable. The road in front of us rolled flat and straight, totally different than the winding roads of Western Pennsylvania. The amount of nothingness surrounding us was amazing. If the car broke down, we would be a fried feast for some hungry desert reptile in no time.

“We’re only a few miles away from our hotel.” He reached over and squeezed my knee. “I can’t wait to see your expression when you start floating.”

I reached over and stroked his cheek, wondering how I could possibly love someone so much after knowing him for such a short amount of time. But from the very first day we met on the beach, it’s been a mixture of awe, lust, and love.

He pulled the car into the parking lot of a beautiful resort. “The Dead Sea was a refuge for King David and has been a health resort going as far back as Herod.”

“Really,” I said, gathering the empty water bottles and the plastic candy bags that accumulated as we drove. He pulled the key from the ignition, leaned over, and kissed me. I kissed him back, overcome by the sensation that our lips had been apart for too long. My body began to heat with desire. It didn’t like being separated from him either.

“Let’s check into our room and hit the beach, so I can smear Dead Sea mud all over your gorgeous body.”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Mud, you heard me.” A devilish glint flashed from his eyes as he rubbed his hands together. “Fun. This is going to be so much fun.”