Fare Forward (31 page)

Lighting my path.

I see the dim overhead light from the galley where the flight attendants are whispering to each other. They keep looking back toward our seats. I get up to stretch my legs and walk toward them as they immediately make themselves busy.

"Hello," I say.

"Everyone is sleeping, you are not tired?" She offers me a glass of water.

"Yes, I am but I can't sleep."

"Is it your first time going to our country?"

"No." I think back to my childhood when I spent most of the year in school in Israel with my parents—counting the days until the summers in Gloucester with my two friends. "I used to live there."

"Ah." She nods. "So you are going to see someone you love."

I look down at the floor. "Yes," I say quietly.

"Beautiful. Our country is a wonderful place—everyone can find what they are looking for. For thousands of years this is where people have ended their journeys." She looks at the other flight attendant then back at me. "You are traveling with him?" She points several rows down to my grandfather's sleeping face. "We know he is very important, to so many. We will take good care of both of you."

"Thank you." I turn around and return to my seat. Very cautiously, I raise the shade on the window. It was closed to keep out the morning light of the continent over which we are flying. The tops of the Swiss Alps emerge from the cloud cover, their majestic presence a reminder of Earth below. I remembered taking this trip as a child, and the wonder of seeing the world from this perspective, from high above. The land reduced to graphic shapes. How different things seem depending on your perspective and where you are in your life.

Relativity.

This time, this trip,
everything
is different.

The angle of the sun is low in the sky, and I know that we are approaching the exact day of the winter solstice. I remembered a discussion with my grandfather on the significance of our planet in its orbit.

"The concept of the solstice is embedded in ancient Greek celestial navigation," he had explained. "Throughout history, we have looked to the heavens to guide our journeys. We are all voyagers aren't we?"

I had agreed. And then I remembered, the kidnapping and executions at CERN, the bodies found at the Cafe Solstice. I try to push those thoughts away and think back instead to my visit with Wallace Gray. The small, fragile volume he had shown me in his office, given to him as a gift by my grandmother, filled with the prophetic words she had inscribed: "May we always remember not to be burdened by the past, nor fear the future. We have far to travel."

"Nor fear the future," I say softly, reminding myself. "We have far to travel."

"Gabriella, you
will
find your answers, simply trust your heart." Wallace Gray had spoken her words.

I could see it in his eyes, I had felt my skin tingling, responding to the layered sensation of memories in the room.

He could see my doubt but continued,"Yes, they reside deep within the spacious architecture of your mind—fare forward, voyager."

I remembered. How those words encouraged my spirit. Now, I try to absorb the enormity of everything that was happening. The voyage, the crossing that I knew I was on.

I lean back into the seat and reach out for my grandfather's warm hand. I close my eyes to rest and then, time slows down, I am somewhere else. I know sleep has found me and that I am in a dream.

It is all so clear. I can see her, my grandmother. And the light—the way it comes in from above. It is dark, it looks like a cave but it is filled with a warm glow. She is so young, so incredibly beautiful and strong. She is not afraid. She is talking, answering questions about herself, what she wants and what she is looking for. I can see his face, the way he looks at her. His beautiful, familiar face.

It is
him.

Then everything changes. They are in a white stone house under the stars. So many stars and candles—everywhere. People and music and food and happiness. Celebrating. But she needs to get away, something is drawing her into the garden. A beautiful garden, filled with roses and trees—twisted, gnarled olive trees—as old as the oldest thing she could see in the ancient city everywhere around her. She hears their voices,
his
and Papa's. He is there too, only she doesn't know him yet. She hides in the shadows—she isn't supposed to be there.

They are gone and it is quiet. She enters the dark house, and he finds her. He hands her something small, round, and shiny. It is the amulet. She holds it to her heart and keeps it with her, always. Until she dies. The house overlooking Jerusalem, the dark garden that smells like rose oil, the perfume she always wore, the trees that have seen so much. I see it all.

But there is more, much more. The sun is setting and the garden has changed. It is a different season, a different
time.
There are people everywhere, happy, celebrating, looking toward a wedding canopy covered with roses from the garden. A white aisle, petals on the ground, music, and a face. The smiling face with beautiful green eyes that waits for the veil-covered bride as she walks toward him, and he raises his hand to—

"Gabriella?"

I wake suddenly to the clatter of dishes, the smell of coffee, and my grandfather's smile as he looks down at me.

"Good morning, sleepy head." The back of his hand touches my cheek. "You looked like you were having a wonderful dream, hmm?"

I straighten up in my seat, surprised, as well, that sleep had found me. "Where are we?" It feels as if I had just been looking out the window at the mountains moments before.

"I think we have less than two hours until we land, but if there weren't so many clouds we could probably see the islands of Greece."

I lean back in my seat to make a place for him as we both strain to look out the small window and down toward the surface of the earth. We take in the majestic sight. I know this is my chance. I need to talk to him and I don't know how to begin.

"I want to thank you."

"Yes? For what, my dear?"

"My birthday gift—that was very special. Incredible."

"I'm glad you liked it. He is
quite
the musician. Among other things."

"So much has happened in the last few months. I feel so disconnected from you."

He sighs deeply. "Nonsense."

"Every single thing in my life has changed. Even you."

"A lot has happened."

"I just want to understand."

"It's not so complicated, Gabriella. Quite simple, actually. It has always been a goal of mine to use science to find the answers. Maybe simply to confirm what I already knew in my heart was true."

"What do you mean, something you already knew, but why?"

"In a way, similar to what your parents were working to understand. Finding a synthesis of solutions."

I look at his profile, his bent shoulders. "My parents?"

"And then, of course, the greatest gift I could ever have hoped for. Something I could never have anticipated nor expected."

"A gift?"

His voice is very low. "Because I now understand, that I would have lost you too. That night on the beach."

I am incredulous. "Benjamin."

"Yes."

"He changed my fate."

"He changed
all
of our fates. Something he began so many years ago."

"How could it be that you knew him? That you were all together?"

But, my grandfather is not listening to my words; he is not answering my questions. Rather he is talking to himself, as if he needs to hear these things spoken aloud, to believe that they are true. "He has shown me many things and changed so much, especially in my work. But I now realize that I've arrived back to a concept I was taught when I was very young. I am back where I started. Where my parents and their parents were looking, and so many before them."

"I don't understand. Where you started?"

"And as you already know very well, I have found my answers."

"It's him isn't it?" I say it so softly that he does not hear me.

"The missing link in my work." He is not talking to me but says the words as if he still cannot believe it. "The missing piece has always been right in front of me. The tunnels." He has never been this explicit before.

"Benjamin."

"He is living proof that the passages do exist and have been used for thousands of years," he says it simply—as if this would not be history making, altering the way we see our universe forever. I can feel the weight of my body melting into the seat I'm sitting in, as if I am dissolving. Liquefying. I need to stay calm, the shocking reality of what he is confirming raises infinite questions.

"Papa," I say slowly, not sure what reaction I will receive. "I need to know. Can Benjamin and I be together?"

I feel a courage that I am living out the fate that has been written, the many pieces of my life finally coming together. He seems ready to answer my question.

"I realize now that the answer is not up to me. Gabriella,
you
need to search deep into your heart. That is where you will find the answer. Whether he is your destiny."

I
LOOK UP, DISTRACTED momentarily by the overhead lights that are all suddenly illuminated and the ringing sounds of the alarm system on the aircraft.

I hear the captain's voice."Attention ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We will be making an unscheduled landing. There is nothing to worry about, we've had strong headwinds and need to take on additional fuel."

Despite what the captain said, anxiety rises quickly in the cabin. Passengers look out the windows and ring call buttons while flight attendants move expertly up and down the aisles to buckle seat belts and calm nerves. The plane banks sharply to the left and begins its steep descent. I try to conceal my fear. A voice comes over the loudspeaker in English, then Hebrew, and informs us that we will be landing briefly in Turkey. That's it, no other information. As we descend toward earth, turbulence shakes the plane, and I grip my grandfather's arm, as if in some way that could counterbalance the force of the winds outside the aircraft.

"Don't worry, my Gabriella. You have a long and wonderful life ahead of you. We are safe in the hands of these pilots."

All the same he reaches over to tighten the seat belt around my shaking body. Just to show me how relaxed he is, he places the headphones I have given him into his ears and settles into the remainder of what is now our premature, terrifying landing.

The giant plane emerges through the cloud cover above Istanbul— our new unplanned destination. We are much lower than I anticipate, and the thickness of the clouds has concealed a terrible rainstorm that we fly into. The jerking motion is making me sick to my stomach, and I try to empty my mind of all thoughts, find the faith that he has, that we are safe. Yet, I am overcome with a sense that all is not right, and it connects directly to his safety. A reason for this unexpected change in plans, I know, I'm sure, has something to do with my grandfather. As I turn to him, I feel the tears streaming down my face.

"I want you to know something; I love you so much, Papa. I am so happy for you and proud of you. Of everything you have done." I grip both his hands in mine as the shapes of the city come into focus out the window. He has a faraway look on his face, and I keep talking. "And the Conference. We will all be there together with you, and then, of course, there
will
be the Nobel Prize."

This would be the last remaining honor that has eluded him all these years. He seems to listen to me, waiting for the shaking and vibrating of the descending flight to stop so that he can respond. Searching for words as a seriousness comes over his face. "Gabriella, if for any reason anything should happen to me, you must know that all that I have is yours. The house, everything in it, my papers, my research, and the studio, of course. These things are for you."

"Why are you saying this? Please, Papa, nothing is going to happen to you. We don't have to talk about this now."

"I have made all the arrangements. You don't have to worry about anything. Ever."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He has never spoken before about my life without him, and I don't want to hear it. Not now, not on the threshold of everything he has worked for. Nothing was going to happen.

"Please remain in your seats." The Captain's tense voice comes through the intercom again as the wheels of the plane slam into the ground. "Do not move until we receive further instructions."

I notice that the men who had been sitting near us—the security guards—have jumped to their feet. One has moved to the exit door, and the other has his back to the cockpit. He is less than five feet away from us. We taxi away from the active landing runway, and it is clear that this is not a routine landing. I see flashing emergency lights—blue, white, and red—circling and lighting up the sky and then, something else. It's the cars on the runway; not first-aid trucks, fire, ambulance, or even refueling tanks. They are military and unmarked security vehicles. The jet comes to a complete stop in the center of a distant runway and I am certain that we are nowhere near the main terminal area. Men with drawn guns run toward the aircraft, wheeling a large staircase toward the door behind where we are sitting. Everyone is silent.

I clearly make out the sound of pounding feet climbing the metal staircase outside the fuselage. I hear banging on the door from the outside. The flight attendant I had spoken to earlier and one of the security agents begin to unlock the door. His fingers are on the trigger of his small submachine gun. There is a knock from outside and a conversation on cell phones in Hebrew. I strain to understand what they are saying, desperate for any information.

"Yes, yes, he is here. We are prepared to move."

The door bursts open and five armed men storm onto the plane and over to where we are sitting.

"Dr. Vogel," one says in perfect English, "please come with us. We have important information regarding your safety. Your security has been compromised—please hurry."