Nasir was clutching the knife like a dead fish. Clearly, he had no idea how to hold it. Mr. Hadad and the dealer began speaking in the next room. They were trying to be quiet, but this place was so unbelievably small, we could hear almost everything. Their hurried whispers carried a disturbing sense of urgency. I wished I knew what they were saying. Damn, all those mornings I wasted studying Hebrew! Arabic would have been so much more useful.
Frustrated, I turned towards Nasir and begged for some answers.
“Why are they keeping me here? What are they saying? What’s going on?”
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, holding a cautionary finger to his lips. His eyes were as big as saucers. I’d never seen anyone look so scared.
“You have to listen to me, Mackenzie. We don’t have much time,” he said, his voice so low it was barely audible. “It sounds like my father is about to leave to find a car. Lino says that he wants to smuggle you into the West Bank.”
“The West Bank? Why?” I whispered back.
“He … he told my father that he knows people there that can make you disappear.”
My chest tightened with fear. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not going to let it happen.” He knelt down in front of the couch and brought his face so close to mine that the tips of our noses were almost touching. “My father’s not a bad man, I swear. He was just doing what he had to do to save our family. And now he’s too scared of Lino to let you go. But I’ll get you out of here, I promise,” he said, his voice little more than a breath on my lips. My heart swelled with hope as he began to unknot the scarf that was wound so tightly around my wrists.
Maybe it isn’t too late for us, after all. Maybe when we get out of this place we can just leave Israel together and run away to Hollywood. We can become actors and start all over again in a place with no fathers … no jealous friends … no one to judge us and tell us what to do.
The possibility, however remote, energized me. I took a deep, restorative breath and wiped my teary face as best as I could with the shoulder of my T-shirt. But a moment later, everything changed. The man called Lino must have heard us talking, because he suddenly came charging into the room before Nasir had the chance to finish untying me.
“What are you doing? Why are you talking to this girl?” he demanded, his once-empty eyes now full of rage.
I screamed. Alarmed, Nasir jumped to his feet and stood in front of me like a human shield. Although he was taller than Lino, I could see that his physique was too slight to pose much of a threat to a full-grown man. As Lino waited for Nasir to explain himself, Mr. Hadad quietly entered the room. In one hand he was carrying a beat-up duffel bag — a getaway accessory if I’d ever seen one. The top of the bag was unzipped and I could see how it was stuffed to the brim with clothes and maps and … was that rope?
Heaving the bag over his shoulder, Mr. Hadad said something in Arabic to Nasir. And with that, he left the apartment.
As soon as the door closed, Lino turned his creepy eyes back on Nasir and me. It was just the three of us now.
“Please,” I whispered. “I promise I won’t tell anybody what you did. Just let me go home. Okay?”
It was the truth. Let him dig up every artefact in the country, for all I cared! Forget betraying my own dad — at that point I would have promised my first-born child to get away. But unfortunately, he wasn’t going for it.
“Shut up! No questions!” he barked.
I swallowed hard and mustered up the last bits of my courage.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“Hey, I said be quiet!” Lino ordered, taking a step towards me.
Nasir moved to block his way. Lino paused, his eyes narrowing.
“Your father was wrong about you,” he sneered. “You are useless. I saw what you were doing in here. If I can’t trust you to watch this girl without trying to seduce her, I’ll have to watch her myself. Give me my knife.” He reached his hand out to take it back.
What happened next went by in an ugly blur. Hours later, when I tried to recall the details of those minutes, I would only be able to remember the flailing of arms, the flash of steel, and the gush of blood. As Lino reached for the knife, Nasir lunged at him, stabbing his outstretched palm with the tip of the jagged blade.
“AAAAAHHH!” Lino screamed, his face morphing with pain. I watched in horror as his blood splattered the linoleum floor in a bright pattern of slick red dots.
“You son of a dog!” he roared, pouncing on Nasir. Ducking out of the way, Nasir managed to slash Lino once more with the knife.
And then the battle ended as quickly as it had begun. Lino grabbed Nasir’s throat with his uninjured hand. Nasir’s head rocked back. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out — Lino was squeezing his windpipe completely shut.
Oh my God, he’s strangling him! What should I do?
I wanted to get up off that couch and tear Lino’s hands off my boyfriend. I wanted to save him in the same way he’d just tried to save me. But I was useless as long as my hands were still tied. I pulled at the scarf, trying desperately to free myself as I watched Nasir fight for breath.
With a loud clatter, the knife fell to the floor as Nasir brought both hands to his neck in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. His whole face was now bright red and his eyes were bulging from lack of air. I stared down at the knife lying only inches from my feet. I knew my only chance to rescue Nasir and myself was to grab it. With my hands still bound, I lunged for the knife. But Lino was faster than me. With a swift motion, he kicked it under the couch.
I turned to retrieve it when a horrible, strangled whine stopped me in my tracks. It was Nasir! I turned back just in time to see Lino pulling him down to the ground, banging his head against the floor in the process and knocking him unconscious. Released from the stranglehold, Nasir lay there on top of Lino’s splattered blood. He was frightfully still. Was he alive? I held my breath and waited until I was finally able to detect the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.
Dear God! He was breathing! He was alive, at least for the time being.
But for now it was just me and Lino — who had quickly reclaimed his knife, dashing my last chance at a rescue. My whole body began quivering with terror as my fate suddenly became very clear. He was going to take me to the desert and kill me! My nightmare of a sudden, violent death was about to come true!
While I sat on that couch biting off my beautiful fingernails and waiting for Mr. Hadad to come back with the getaway car, I saw my whole life flash before me — a mental slide show of all the people and places and memories I was about to leave forever.
Birthday parties and Christmas mornings … dance recitals and camping trips … first days of school and big family Easter dinners … learning how to ride a bike, building forts in my backyard, snuggling in my parents’ bed during thunderstorms, sleepovers at Christina’s house and those late-night Scrabble games where we always ended up falling asleep on the couch.
I saw Mom again in that flashback, so clearly and vividly I swear it was like she was alive again. I saw her brushing and braiding my hair every morning, her mouth full of barrettes and elastic bands. I saw her sitting next to me at the kitchen table, patiently helping me conjugate my French verbs. And I saw her pouring batter into a frying pan as she made those great storybook pancakes while I sat perched on the counter beside her, watching in awe.
But most overwhelmingly, my thoughts were of Dad and the past two years we’d spent together. I saw him camped out in a sleeping bag on my bedroom floor just after Mom died, keeping me company during those first long, dark nights. I saw us doubled over in hysterics in a darkened movie theatre, laughing our crazy-horse laughs at some stupid comedy he’d suggested to cheer us up. I saw us on the whaling excursion we’d chartered on the St. Lawrence, watching the beautiful white belugas frolic in the wake of the boat. And I saw him crowing with pride over my pottery find in Tiberias to everyone who would listen, his eyes overflowing with love for me.
I’d been trying to stay strong this whole time, but something inside me suddenly snapped. I leaned my face into my knees and started to cry. And not a dainty, damsel-in-distress kind of cry … it was more of the full-out sobbing, heaving, snotty-nose variety. The kind of crying you only indulge in when you’re by yourself because it’s just too ugly to do in front of anybody else — especially in front of a boy you like. I cried my heart out until my eyes were red and raw and my nose swelled up and my cheeks hurt. I cried hard and hideous and I didn’t care. I couldn’t remember the last time I told Dad I loved him. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how lonely his life would be without me.
All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. I knew it was Mr. Hadad — he must have found a car.
“It’s time to go!” Lino growled, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me roughly across the room.
“Noooo!” I screamed, my eyes still blurry with tears. Forgetting about the knife, I swung my bound hands at him, determined to put up the fight of my life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much of a battle. Ducking my fists, he scooped me up and carried me to the door. He struggled to pull it open — trying to balance me over his shoulder with one hand while he yanked on the knob with the other, bloody one. Just as he managed to open the door, there was a sudden, explosive boom-boom. I fell to the floor with a painful thud, and then the world went black.