Chapter 4
The village hall had begun to fill and the level of noise from conversation had started to rise. Elizabeth’s father had a free bar going, and people were taking advantage of it. Excited chatter filled the air.
Rory knew there were going to be some speeches, but being called up onstage by his future father-in-law was a surprise.
As the speech began, Rory saw a well-set man with a shaved head and a poorly fitted suit step into the hall. He looked like a bouncer, but moved with a grace that belied any bulk or slowness. He was staring straight at Rory. Weirdly, this man nodded as if he knew Rory, then spoke into a small handheld radio. All the while his future father-in-law was regaling the audience with stories designed to embarrass him and Elizabeth, who was, at this moment trying to disappear from the embarrassment her father was foisting on her.
A minute later, the well-built man opened the door. In walked another stranger this time, very well-dressed, in a suit that was made to fit him. What caught Rory’s attention now was an elderly man holding a plastic bag in one hand and leaning on the well-dressed man with the other. Rory’s stomach turned, his heartbeat accelerated madly, his sense of panic and fear was palpable. He could not take his eyes off the elderly man slowly walking towards him. The well-set man was politely clearing a path through his family and friends towards the steps that lead to the stage. This action alone was enough to focus the attention from the speech to the small group approaching the stage. The mood changed from polite listening to curiosity. Looking at them approach, Rory could feel the butterflies building in his stomach, wondering what they had to say.
Such was Rory’s intent that he missed a punch line in the speech, as did most of the audience in the hall. His future father-in-law turned to Rory, looking for a reaction to the joke. As he turned back, the slowly moving group had made it to the stage and the old man had been helped up the steps. The well-set man stayed at the bottom and the two other men carried on over to Rory. Silence had fallen, confusion and surprise were all around the hall.
Only the people on the stage and those closest to the stage heard what the old man said to Rory, who was clearly not happy and barely holding it together.
"Shalom, Rory. It’s been too long. You left these behind," he said, handing him the bag.
Rory looked down into the bag. As he did so the smartly dressed man stepped up to the microphone and introduced the group.
"Apologises for interrupting this family party. My name is Moshe Conen, I am the cultural attaché for Israel to the United Kingdom. I am here with Azzan Hagi, he is a great Israeli and has played a part in building Israel’s farming community and pulling people of all faiths and nationalities to Israel. He lives on the same kibbutz as Rory did when he spent time in Israel eight years ago. Azzan, please tell them why we are here."
"Please, Azzan, no," Rory pleaded.
"You need this to happen, Rory, it's been too long." He turned and went to the microphone.
In a heavy Israeli accent he began the story of Wadi en Sharma. It was a story only Rory and his parents knew. Rory had not spoken about it, not even to Elizabeth—it was difficult to explain to people, and easier to bury it in the past. He literally carried the wadi around with him, the scars never really healed and they ached in cold weather. Sometimes Rory believed he could feel the sand still in his blood. When his fingers tingled he knew the sand was being pressed up against the inside of his skin. Occasionally, in his worst nightmares, the fight was revisited, but in these dark dreams he failed to reach the rock in time, or he didn’t get to the second hyena. Failure was around him, and children died. Rory would awake from the sounds of screaming to find Elizabeth shaking him, trying to break him free from the nightmare. It was Elizabeth who had now joined him on the little village hall stage. Concerned, with a confused look on her face, she held Rory’s hand and squeezed it. The love that Rory felt in this simple gesture of support gave him strength.
Azzan weaved the story of tragedy and bravery. Rory, now sitting on an old plastic chair, leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. Elizabeth crouched next to him, a protective arm around Rory’s shoulders. On the floor in front was the bag that Azzan had given Rory.
Azzan finished the story explaining what was in the bag.
"We had a photo of the school class taken before and put it in a frame with a photo of them all now. Some are married, one has had a child of her own. All wish you well and would hope to see you soon. The other frame is a cutting from the Jerusalem post. It is a report of the attack and explains what Rory did. The kibbutz still have the picnic in the wadi, but now the fun begins only after we toast a brave Englishman, Rory Gent, and the teachers Orli and Avi."
Rory took out the frames and laid them in his lap. The partygoers had all crowded round the front of the stage. Rory’s stare simply fell onto the faces of a young class of schoolchildren smiling back. He began to scan the rows. He could not be sure of the faces, which ones were they? He began again, frantic to find four faces in particular. He used a finger to trace the line, he could not be sure.
Elizabeth crouching next to Rory. "What’s up, babe?" She was trying to be familiar. Never before had she seen Rory frantic like this.
Rory stopped and handed her the frame with the newspaper cutting. The headline ran: "Ten Schoolchildren Saved by English Kibbutz Volunteer."
"What’s the matter? This is great, you saved ten children, you killed the hyenas, you were so brave—please Rory, why are you acting like this?"
Azzan stepped forward and held Rory’s shoulder. Rory looked up into the old man's eyes. He could see the pain, and he remembered that one of the children was his granddaughter. Azzan understood Rory’s pain.
Rory took a breath, looked up and answered Elizabeth so the whole hall could hear.
"There were 14 children in the class. I did not reach the hyenas quick enough. I panicked, I tried to save the little girl but she was too badly hurt. I wasted time. I tried so hard to fight it. Orli covered the fourth with her body, she died too. I was too slow."
Rory’s voice was failing. Christ, it was so close to him still. Azzan stepped forward.
"No one blames you for those deaths. Because these children and Orli are buried, they have not been forgotten, we remember them every year. You will be failing those who died if you refuse to live. You left the wadi a hero, you did not allow evil to succeed. You gave life to those children, and they wish to applaud you. They have left the wadi behind them. Rory, this year you get married, it is time you leave the wadi behind. Take these photos as part of your youth that will define you as a man."
Azzan turned to Elizabeth. "We have been trying to find him. We could not have come sooner, although I wish we had. When he left Israel, we thought he would keep in touch. It was only by chance Moshe read the announcements in the paper."
Rory stood up, trying to regain his composure.
"You’re right, Azzan, this is my engagement party." He smiled. "Let me walk with you outside."
The old man held onto to Rory’s arm and they left the hall. As they walked past his family and friends they came up and congratulated him, just hugged him, and finally applauded him.
"Why are they clapping?" He turned to Azzan.
"They love you Rory, and are pleased you have returned."
"Elizabeth seems a good choice," Azzan said as they stepped outside. "What does she do?"
"She’s a teacher," Rory said quietly.
"Bring her to the libbutz, it will do you both good." He got into the car. The door was shut by the well-set man, who turned to Rory.
"Good to meet you Mr. Gent. I have been to the wadi picnics a few times, you’re missing a good party."
"Right."
The car pulled away taking with it a part of his life that he had kept buried for a long time. Now it had come out, he felt different, lighter, even happy.
Elizabeth joined him.
"Any other superhero deeds you want to tell me about?"
/> "Nope, two hyenas is my lot," smiled Rory.
"Good. Now who the hell was Orli?"
They laughed and went back in.
"Cool speech your dad made."
"You will never be forgiven. He will save it up for the wedding day."
"Looking forward to it."
Chapter 5
Rory stood hand in hand with Elizabeth facing a plaque. Written in Hebrew, it commemorated Orli and Rory fighting off an attack by two hyenas. The names of the children were listed.
They turned to face the crowd of nearly a hundred people.
"Ladies and gentlemen. I do understand this is nine years in the coming, but it gives me and my wife great pleasure to give the traditional toast: To Rory Gent and Orli. They will not be forgotten. Cheers."
A hundred people all lifted their cans, bottles, and cups.
A damn good picnic followed.
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