Medinat Yisrael Is Born
253
himself. I dashed to the nearest wall and found refuge in the
facade of a store. The bullets continued their terrifying ratatat
of death. A determined machine-gunner could have riddled
my left side, for my body protruded from the shallow shelter.
Then the machine gun stopped, and there was the silence of a
murder chamber.
"Father, where are you? Are you alive?"
"Are you alive? I'm here."
I peered out slightly, and in the doorway of an adjoining
shop I saw the tip of his Armenian nose.
"The Jews shouldn't have done this to us," I said.
"Maybe they thought we were Arabs," Father Donigian answered.
We waited there, squeezed against the building, each holding on to a suitcase. "How long are we going to stay like this?"
"I shall make a run for it," the priest said.
"Let me try it first. You can follow."
"I'll go first," he insisted. I heard him muttering, and recognized the words Asdvadz, Asdvadz. Then I heard a final
"Amen!" At the same instant his black-clothed figure darted
from the doorway and scampered with astonishing speed to
the corner, around which he disappeared to safety. I felt
trapped. If the Jewish gunner took us for Arabs, he had by
now trained his gun on my hiding-place. The priest's sudden
dash had caught him off guard, but he could guess that the
second "Arab" would have to make a run for it soon. Was he
now covering me with his gun? There was only one way to
find out. ... I was too excited even to pray.
I dashed out, clutching the black suitcase. The corner
seemed far away, so I jumped into the first opening I saw.
I was before a big iron gate, covered with trailing roses. I
picked one quickly, and added it to my collection of dried
flowers which I kept in my passport. Then I scrambled over
the gate, no easy task because of the thorns—and found myself inside a garden, surrounded by a wall. I negotiated this,
too, and as I jumped down I became aware of figures in a