Chapter 8
Grandma

When I woke up I could see the Sea of Galilee from the window. The soldier was listening to music through his earphones, and behind us two women were chattering in a foreign language. I stretched and waited impatiently to reach Katzrin.

Dekel got off the bus at Tiberias, and I was left alone. As the bus climbed the hills toward the Golan, my excitement grew, imagining how surprised and pleased Grandma would be to see me.

I got off at the museum in Katzrin and ran all the way to Grandma’s house. She was sitting on her porch swing.

“Mitaeh!”

“Meskerem? I can’t believe it! I’m sitting here thinking about you on your birthday, and God sent you to me!”

I laughed and embraced her with all my strength.

“You’re so big,” she said. “And where are your beautiful braids?”

“How are you, Grandma?” I asked, suddenly shy. I could see that her legs were swollen.

“I’m fine, aside from missing my grandchildren. Where is everybody?” She glanced toward the road, as if expecting Ima and Abba to appear with Lemlem and Abeva.

“I came by myself,” I confessed, looking down at the ground. Grandma looked at me quizzically, so I said, “It’s a long story, and I’m thirsty.”

“Go and get us some lemonade from the fridge,” said Grandma. When I came back with two frosty glasses, she patted the seat next to her and said firmly, “Now sit down and tell me how you got here.”

I started talking, and Grandma sat and listened. Sometimes she nodded and sighed, and when she heard about that day with Lemlem at the park, she shook her head sadly, stroking my wild hair. But she never once stopped me and just let the words that had been bottled up all these months pour out, until I finally fell quiet. I told Grandma everything. When I finished, I felt exhausted but lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted off my chest.

“You know what you need to do now, don’t you?” Grandma looked at me seriously. I nodded and went into the house to look for the telephone.

“Abba?” I’d completely lost track of the time. It was already way past the hour I was expected home from school.

“Macy! I’m so glad you called!” Abba sounded worried. “Where are you?”

“Please say you won’t be mad, Abba,” I trembled.

“What happened?” said Abba anxiously.

“Abba, I’m with Grandma. In Katzrin.”

There was a long silence.

“Abba?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, Abba, I took the bus. Instead of going to school . . .” My voice trailed off.

There was a long silence on the other end.

“Macy, sweetie, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Abba. I had to come. I just had to . . . I’m sorry.”

“I know, Macy. Well. I’m relieved that I know where you are and that you are all right,” Abba said. He didn’t sound angry. “Sweetness, we’ll talk again later, okay? I want to call Ima and let her know where you are. She’s been very worried.”

“Thanks, Abba.”

I hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. How lucky I am to have such an understanding dad, I thought. I knew that Ima would eventually understand too, at least when she got over being mad at me.

I went back to Grandma and said, “I don’t know what to do. I made such a mess of things with my story about being from America, and I hate those kids! They keep bothering me all the time. You have to help me convince Ima and Abba to let me stay here with you.”

Grandma took my hands in hers and said, “Meskerem, you know perfectly well that your mother would never agree to that. Anyhow, it’s never a good thing to run away from your problems.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I don’t know how to solve this,” I wailed. “I can’t deal with those kids. They’re horrible. They hate me. I tried telling them the truth, but they won’t believe me! I wish there was magic that would make them like me. I wish I could have friends there like I do here . . .”

Grandma said gently “Maybe there is magic that can do that.” I looked up at her to see if she was kidding, but her face was serious.

“What do you mean?” I asked, curious.

“Sit down.” Grandma indicated the ground at her feet and spread her knees so that I could sit between them. “I braid, and you listen,” she ordered, taking hold of my hair. Listening to her soothing voice, with her clever hands braiding my hair, I calmed down. It felt like the simple days before the move.

“Years ago, there lived in Ethiopia a woman who was married to a man who was unhappy with her,” Grandma began in her rhythmic storytelling voice. “They were always quarreling, and nothing she did could please him. The woman was miserable. She didn’t know what to do. So she went to the local magician. ‘Please give me a love potion that will return my husband’s love for me,’ said the woman. The magician answered, ‘Bring me three whiskers from a lion and I will give you the love potion.’

“The woman returned home, feeling hopeless. How could she possibly get three whiskers from a lion without being eaten? But her desire to improve her marriage motivated her to try. She lay awake every night until she thought of a plan. She went to a neighbor and asked him to kill her a sheep. Then she cut up the meat, put it in a large sack, and went out into the jungle to look for a lion. She climbed a tree and waited.

“After a few hours, a lion appeared, lured by the smell of the fresh meat. The woman threw him a large piece from her sack. The lion ate the meat hungrily and padded away silently, back into the forest. The woman climbed down from the tree and headed home.

“The next day, the woman again took her sack to the forest and climbed up the same tree. Only this time, she sat on a lower branch. When the lion appeared, she threw him a piece of meat, just like before, and the lion ate it. Encouraged, the next day the woman moved still closer to the lion as she fed him and still closer with each passing day. When a month had gone by, she had him eating from the palm of her hand. She reached out and stroked the lion’s face, gently pulling out three white whiskers. Then the woman gave the lion the remainder of the meat and went happily home.

“The very next day she went back to the magician. ‘So,’ he asked her, ‘did you bring me three lion’s whiskers?’

“‘Yes, I did,’ said the woman proudly, ‘and here they are!’ The woman stretched out her hand and showed the magician the lion’s whiskers.

“‘How did you manage to do that?’ asked the magician, amazed. The woman told him how for a month she had fed the lion, first from the tree and then from the ground, until he had willingly eaten from the palm of her hand.

“‘Now, give me the love potion you promised me,’ she said.

“‘You don’t need it,’ the magician replied.

“‘What do you mean?’” exclaimed the woman. ‘After all I’ve done you won’t give me the love potion?’

“The magician smiled at the woman kindly and said, ‘You don’t need any love potions or magic spells. After all the courageous efforts you made to get close to a wild lion, I am certain that you will be able, with far less effort, to get close to your husband and rekindle his love.’

“The woman walked home slowly, the magician’s words in her head and her heart. She went back to her husband full of confidence after having tamed a wild lion, and in time, she discovered that the magician was right.”

Grandma smoothed my newly braided hair. For a long time I sat quietly, thinking about Grandma’s story. I was thinking that it would be easier to tame a wild lion than to make friends with the kids in my class.

Grandma turned me toward her and looked into my eyes with her wise ones. As if reading my thoughts, she said, “As soon as we stop thinking of things as impossible, they become possible. After all, you got all the way out here all by yourself, didn’t you?”