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Cry of Hope
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Cry of Hope
by Lloyd Philip Johnson
© Copyright 2014 Lloyd Johnson
ISBN 978-1-940192-83-3
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other – except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. The characters are both actual and fictitious. With the exception of verified historical events and persons, all incidents, descriptions, dialogue and opinions expressed are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
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To the shared adventures of living with her in the Holy Land—
getting tear-gassed, finding dear friends, learning and telling their stories.
To the joy of following the Peacemaker of Galilee together, our ultimate hope.
To my wife, Marianne.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER 1
THE BRIDAL SHOP in Seattle smelled of lavender. Soft music accompanied the saleswoman as she brought out another wedding dress. The gowns made Ashley realize that the long wait to marry Najid would actually come to an end in a few months. By early summer, graduating with her master’s degree from the University of Washington, she would be free to complete plans for her mid-July marriage in Oklahoma City. Glancing in the mirror, her heart skipped a beat as she thought of her gentle Palestinian fiancé. She must look her very best walking down the aisle to him. Now that her parents finally approved her marrying Najid, her father would be pleased to escort her.
“You’ll look beautiful in this gown,” the saleswoman said. “They all look good on you. Being tall and your long blonde hair helps. Oh! Are you expecting your fiancé to come in, Ashley?”
“Ah…no, Jami. He’s busy at the U. Why do you ask?”
“There’s a guy outside who seems interested in you. He’s staring in the window. He looks Middle Eastern. Are you expecting anyone?”
“No, I’m not.” Ashley moved quickly past the mirrors glancing at the windows. Her heart seemed to stop as she saw a tall swarthy man suddenly turn and bolt into the parking lot. Her face blanched as she screamed and then covered her mouth with her hands. Memories of being stalked in Bethlehem and finally kidnapped in Jerusalem came rushing back. She hurried to a bench and sat, head in her hands, shaking.
“Are you in danger?” the saleswoman asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Who is that man?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure what to do. I better get out of this dress and call Najid. I thought this would never happen again. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“What would never happen again?”
“It’s a long story, but the short version is I was abducted overseas by a guy who looked like that. I’m afraid to go outside now.”
“He seems to have disappeared. Can your fiancé come here?”
“Give me a minute to calm down, and I’ll call him. I’m really not the fearful type, but that guy terrifies me.”
“Najid,” Ashley tried to sound relaxed over the cell phone, “are you too busy to come down to University Village?”
“Well…no…why do you ask? I’m in the zoology lab.”
“I need you here, at The Bridal Shop. You know, the one we walked by the other day.”
“Yeah, I know the place. You sound frightened. Are you in trouble?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure, Najid.” $
“I’m on my way. Be there in ten minutes.”
Ashley changed back to her jeans and sweater, took some deep breaths and sighed and apologized to the saleswoman. “I shouldn’t have screamed. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“No problem. I understand if you felt threatened by that man. You must have had a frightening experience. What happened?”
Ashley nodded. “Hit guy, paid to eliminate me in the Middle East. He almost did. His mother rescued me— that and a lot of prayer.” She sighed. “You may have heard about a bombing at a synagogue here in Seattle some months ago. I was injured. The bomber thought I saw him and tried to have me killed. That’s the short version. It’s complicated.”
“Oh… yes! Now I remember—your picture. Must have been a horrible experience. But I can see you don’t want to talk much about it now. How about a cup of coffee? We have some fresh in back.”
“Great. I’d like that. I’ll just sit here away from the window and wait for Najid to come.” She felt short of breath as her heart still pounded. The coffee tasted good, but she realized the caffeine wouldn’t help her already racing pulse.
***
Ashley saw Jami look up as the door chime announced a dark-haired man moderately tall, thin, who looked Arabic. She move
d quickly in front of Ashley with a determined stride, wide-eyed, her voice shaking. “May I help you?”
He smiled. “I’m here to see Ashley. I’m her fiancé.”
Ashley leaped to her feet when she heard Najid’s voice and flew into his arms. She buried her head on his shoulder for several moments, trembling inside, not able to control the tears of relief and joy. “Oh Najid, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Najid held her close and laid his head on hers until she relaxed. “Tell me what happened.”
“I freaked out. Jami here has been so kind.” She introduced them, and began to tell Najid what happened. “I don’t want to have this fear hanging over me all the time. I just saw the guy, and screamed. He’s probably just a passer-by looking in the window.”
“No,” Jami said, “I saw him studying you very deliberately.”
“Let’s go for a latte, Ashley. There’s a coffee shop nearby.”
Ashley took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay.” She clenched her teeth. “I’m still afraid to leave without you. That’s so stupid of me, but I can’t help it. Jami, thanks for all your kindness. I’ll be back on another day.”
***
Ashley took only one bite of her sweet roll. The shop nearly filled with people at small tables with their electronic screens and a coffee aroma. She sipped her decaf latte while looking at Najid across the table. He seemed as calm and collected as always. They had been through so much together—a bombing, rejection of Najid by her parents, hunting a terrorist themselves.
“Are you okay, Ashley?”
“Yeah, I think so. Is there any chance that someone could still be stalking me, after all this time?
“I don’t know. But they still haven’t found the Imam—what’s his name?”
“Jabril.”
“Oh yeah. Remember, the FBI is still hunting for Jabril, and you are a potential threat to him in court. It seems unlikely that he would hire someone to do you in, but it’s possible. At least I don’t think we can rule that out.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Hide? I hate being paranoid.”
“Be careful, just like today. Call me any time if you have any concerns. Don’t be out alone at night—just like before. Be with friends when I can’t be with you.” Najid reached for his latte and her hand. He winked. “We should be together as much as possible—I wish it was a lot more, but that will be corrected in August.”
Ashley smiled, but couldn’t laugh. Not yet.
CHAPTER 2
LEAVING THE VILLAGE, Najid put his bicycle in the back of Ashley’s old Subaru. As they drove to her house he saw her relax. The rhododendrons surrounding the front porch blazed their large red and white blossoms. Her roommates had left, so they would have time to talk privately while having lunch on the old oak table in the dining room. The dark woodwork around the windows breathed the 1930s. Najid couldn’t keep his eyes off Ashley. He drew her close and kissed her. “I love you, Ashley.”
“I love you too. Thanks for rescuing me, yet again.”
“You just keep having so many adventures.” He took a bite of his toasted cheese sandwich and grinned. “Maybe you’ll settle down when we’re married.” He watched her fingering her ring with the small diamond. Maybe someday he’d have money to replace it with something bigger.
She smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. “I hope things settle down. Now that the MCAT is finished I’ll complete my applications for medical schools. In June, I’ll have plenty of time off after classes end.
“You’ve never mentioned when you’d be going to Oklahoma to prepare the wedding.”
“Probably in July.” Ashley laughed for the first time that day. “Mom’s in a dither about wedding plans and doesn’t know what to do until I get there.”
“Dither? You keep springing new English words on me.”
“It means all excited and a bit confused. Part of that comes from their friends who don’t understand why I would marry a Palestinian. But no big deal, Najid. It doesn’t matter. We’ve been through this before with my parents.”
“I wish mine could come, but there is no way. The cost of airfare for the two of them to come to Oklahoma City would be more than a Palestinian farm worker in Israel makes in a year.”
“I wish they could too, Najid. I feel so bad every time I think about your parents losing their homes when they were children—becoming refugees. They’re such dear people. I hope we can visit your family soon after we get married.”
“They’d love it.” Najid said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “I know. Why don’t you come to my place at ten tomorrow morning? My family would like to see and hear from you, on Skype. Then we can all see and talk with each other. Ten our time here means seven at night there. So come over. They’re expecting my call. I need to talk to Sami. Nakba Day is coming up on May 15th, and I’m worried. He’s planning something. Sometimes these protests get out of hand and people get hurt.”
***
Najid, excited to have Ashley by his side in his room, faced his desk and laptop screen as he called his home in Israel on Skype. Sami suddenly appeared on the monitor. He smiled and began greetings in Arabic, but after seeing Ashley quickly switched to English.
“Ashley! The best American woman soccer player in Israel, and on my team.”
Ashley grinned. “Yeah, but remember that we got beaten by your two younger brothers, Sami.”
“Yes, but they still talk about how fast you are in football.”
Ashley smiled and exchanged greetings with Najid’s parents, Rafiq and Farah, and the five younger children as they crowded in behind Sami, with Najid translating between Arabic and English. Najid felt a rush of love and affection for Ashley, so warm in her greetings to his family. They exchanged news of what they each had been doing. Farah inquired about their wedding plans.
“We don’t have much to report except that it’s going to be in August in Oklahoma,” Ashley replied. “We wish you could be with us, but we’ll come to visit as soon as we can.
Najid could see the sadness on his mother’s face. The conversation drifted to the Arab Spring throughout North Africa and the Middle East. “Just like here,” Rafiq explained, where people want employment and freedom.”
Sami told of the hope of Gaza and the West Bank joining together to help bring about their new Palestinian state. That led the conversation to his plans for Nakba Day.
He looked back to the computer monitor. “What is happening on Nakba Day, Sami?” Najid asked. He spoke in Arabic with Sami and then translated as an aside to Ashley.
“We’re planning to join a demonstration at the Qalandia checkpoint between Jerusalem and Ramallah. It’s part of the May 15 youth movement as you know.”
“Who are we?”
“Some of my friends in college. We’ve been studying the civil rights marches in the southern United States, Martin Luther King’s principles of nonviolence. It’s powerful. Same problems here as in America then—segregated schools, forbidden to enter places, humiliated. Sometimes I get so tired of it.” Sami’s voice rose as he spoke rapidly. “Just like us, black people were trapped in poor neighborhoods. Best lands taken by others. At least blacks could travel anywhere…in the back of the bus. We can’t even do that.”
“So what are you planning to do, Sami?”
“It’s going to be a peaceful protest, non-violent… as usual. My group will try to lead, carrying the Palestinian flag and singing right up to the Qalandia checkpoint. We’re reminding everyone we can about King’s principles of nonviolence.”
“Like what, Sami?”
“My favorite is Nonviolence seeks to defeat injustice, not people. Evildoers are also victims. We are all victims. Our Israeli brothers and sisters are victims of their own government’s policies.”
“Do you think you can keep the demonstration nonviolent?”
“We’re going to try, Najid. If we are peaceful, maybe the Israeli soldiers will be also.”
“It’s only two days away, Sam
i. We’re worried. We’ll pray that will happen—for a nonviolent demonstration.”
Farah wiped away tears as the family disappeared from Najid’s computer screen.
“Nakba Day?’ Ashley asked, turning to Najid.
“Yeah, Ashley. May 15 every year. We remind the world, now the sixty-sixth anniversary of that catastrophe in 1948. Israeli soldiers evicted 750,000 Palestinians from their homes and lands. We became refugees, including my family. The catastrophe’s still going on today in the West Bank.”
CHAPTER 3
SAMI LAUGHED AT his friend Kahil, who looked wide-eyed at the crowd of young men excitedly jumping up and down and singing in Arabic. Sami’s own pulse speeded up. The Nakba Day sound flooded downtown Ramallah, the capital and pride of West Bank Palestinians. They’d walk two miles from Ramallah to the Qalandia wall and checkpoint guarding the northern outskirts of Jerusalem.
As Sami’s group of twenty college students moved through the crowd, they dispersed to chat with fellow demonstrators about the strength of a peaceful protest. They would meet up front as the crowd walked to the high concrete wall of separation and the famous checkpoint. They carried signs saying Justice—not violence, written in Arabic, Hebrew, and English. The anticipation of approaching the wall with the din of a thousand young men singing and chanting slogans created a level of excitement in the crowd. It seemed to Sami to drown out any pleas for nonviolence, even though for a decade that had been the official policy in Palestine for resisting the military occupation.
Sami and Kahil arrived at the vanguard of the large mass of eager demonstrators spread to either side of the highway, and far back toward Ramallah. They looked for their group, but found only eight who had made it to the front to try to keep the lid on the demonstration. Sami, shouting to be heard, went to all the nearby flag-bearers with his oft-repeated message: “Remember the power of a nonviolent demonstration. We are against a government’s injustice, not the Jewish people.”
“I’ll try,” a young demonstrator named Ibrahim yelled over the din. “I really will. I believe in nonviolent demonstrations. But the Israelis shot my brother for throwing a stone at a tank. Killed a thirteen year old! And they put me in prison for six months. For just being in the demonstration! I spent my sixteenth birthday in jail. Tell me, was that nonviolence?”