Yet another week of bliss on the kibbutz passed for Emma and Eitan. They were perfectly adjusted to their new routine and appreciated each day for the blessings it offered. The simplicity of life here compared to Miami was a constant source of comfort. They did not miss the constant battles with traffic, or Miami’s notoriously aggressive drivers. Nor did they miss paying $100 every time they went out for a simple dinner. Kibbutz life was serene, and even though it was temporary, it was a welcome relief.
This particular day was passing at ease. Emma played tennis. Eitan slept in and then spent some time reading and watching television. While Emma was rinsing off in the shower after her match, and Eitan was enjoying a rerun of a soccer match on TV, a loud knock on the door startled Eitan and roused him to his feet.
When he opened the door, Yehoshua’s concerned appearance signaled serious concern.
“There’s been a development,” Yehoshua said, skipping any pleasantries.
“What? What’s happening?”
“In the Ukraine. I just spoke to my office. We need to head into Jerusalem,” Yehoshua said excitedly.
“Jerusalem? What for?” Eitan responded.
“Somebody there wants to speak with you.”
“With me, really?”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“The prime minister.”