Her skin complexion was dark brown, which I thought was probably indicative of someone from her country.
Dr. J then looked at the six people on the other side of the table facing him. All of them were dressed in traditional nurses' scrubs.
He pointed to them and said, “These are some of our nurses. We have twelve in the hospital, but some are working now as we speak. Please meet one particular nurse who sits closest to you. That is Mika, and she’s my wife. Mika and I met in the Philippines years ago.”
Mika and I made eye contact, and we shook hands. She said, “Nice to meet you, Joe. I know your dad well.”
“Really? Nice to meet you, too.”
Dr. J continued. “Some of our nurses come from Syria. They may be refugees, too, but they are well-trained and have the respect of the entire community, and we couldn’t do what we do without them. The last three in the row are from Syria.” I waved, and then it hit me. I was looking at a young woman with the most radiant smile I have ever seen. My heart skipped a beat, and my tired eyes snapped wide open.
In that fleeting moment, her beauty was a snapshot etched into my heart. My sole mission was to draw closer to her. Her hair, black as the darkest night, flowed like the silkiest charmeuse. Beauty radiated from her. However, regardless of how much I wanted to meet her, this was the wrong place to say anything. I waved at everyone and smiled. I definitely hoped she liked the way I smiled.
Dr. J went on. “This is primarily a surgical hospital. Although we can handle just about any emergency sent to us, Our examining, operating, and recovery rooms are all on the first floor. The second and third are used for patients who stay overnight. We don’t have a twenty-four-hour emergency room like they do in the States, but we are open twenty-four hours a day. We have a few more medical facilities where people with everyday maladies and needs can get excellent care. Please let me know if you would like to visit these places. Now, I’m going to dismiss everyone except Joe, who I need to talk to for a few minutes. Thank you for coming, everyone.”
All the doctors and nurses dispersed, probably returning to work with their patients.
I was sure to learn an awful lot from such a distinguished company. My stomach churned with a sense of queasiness. Perhaps I didn't belong with these heroes.
“If you keep staring at her like that, she'll call the cops,” Dr. J playfully interrupted me.
“What—what do you mean?” I stammered, my face burning.
“Oh, come on, kid. What do you take me for? I was your age once and was far smoother with the ladies than you are. You really are Robert Gold’s son. You can walk around the hospital for an hour, and then we can meet for dinner in the mess hall. I have a few things I need to take care of.” He stood up and left.
Seriously, he was relentless. I couldn’t tell if my dad had sent me here to learn something or just to be teased by Dr. J. Was it that obvious I was staring at her?
After an hour of looking around the hospital, I joined the dinner crowd. I noticed that Dr. Johnson had saved a seat beside him, and much to my surprise, it was meant for her— the girl who had captured my heart with a single smile.
“Elaina, meet Joseph Gold,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Joe, meet Elaina.” Dr. Johnson, you sly fox. Elaina, so that’s her name. It's a beautiful name, a match for that flawless face.
“I'm glad,” I awkwardly nodded. Seriously, Joe? That's the best response you could come up with? I continued smiling, and she reciprocated until the old, boring doctors started bombarding me with questions again.
“Joe Gold will be with us for a year.” Dr. J said.
Elaina smiled at me. “Nice to meet you, Joe. I look forward to working with you. We need all the help we can get.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was so contagious that I could barely breathe.
“Elaina, Joe will join us tomorrow; please give him a tour of the camp in the morning and explain how we do things. I don’t want him to fall behind, and I don’t want to go easy on him. I want to make sure he's up to speed.”
“I will, Doctor.”
I gave Dr. J a funny look. Was he trying to match me up with this woman? She was going to give me a tour of the camp. Was this a dream? Filled with anticipation for the day ahead, I went to bed, eager to start tomorrow's adventure. I could feel my palms sweating, and for some reason, I was nervous.
Chapter 3: A Tour of the Camp
Joe
After a restless night, my first night in a strange bed far from what I was accustomed to, I awoke to the sunlight pouring through my window. I dressed in casual clothes and sneakers. Walking to breakfast, I noticed a group of men speaking Arabic and stepping into the mosque near my location, no doubt heeding the call to prayer. I had always admired the intense devotion to prayer that Muslims showed. While I attended Sunday school and had had a bar mitzvah, I'd rarely attended services in the last few years. The High Holidays were basically it for me. Studying and sports always kept me busy.
With a sense of excitement for the day ahead with Elaina, I headed to the mess hall for breakfast. The hall accommodated fifty people across several tables. As I entered, approximately twenty individuals were already seated—some in groups, others alone. The cafeteria-style setup offered an enticing spread: a buffet featuring a mix of Arabic delicacies and traditional American breakfast fare.
My choice for the morning was Shakshuka, a delightful dish that beautifully blended cultures, with poached eggs nestled in a spiced tomato and bell pepper sauce. The rich flavors and warm spices made it a perfect start to the day. Alongside, I sampled a small dish of hummus, a staple in Middle Eastern cuisine, which I paired with fresh pita bread. To complete the meal, I grabbed a cup of coffee from the nearby machine and settled at a table, ready to savor my breakfast and enjoy the company of friends and fellow diners.
I was eager to explore the camp, but my primary interest was Elaina. There were hundreds of questions I would love to ask her. What was her story? How had she ended up in this camp? As I sat down to eat, a few doctors came over to shake my hand and introduce themselves. Two were from the United States, and one was from France. As I nibbled on my food and drank coffee, I eagerly waited for Elaina to appear.
Five minutes later, she entered the room and settled into the chair across from me. Her eyes, warm and expressive, met mine, and she bestowed upon me a smile that could melt glaciers. Yesterday, she had been clad in the starched white of a nurse’s uniform, But today, she wore something different—a casual ensemble that whispered of everyday life. The most striking change was the hijab that framed her face. It cocooned her hair, encircled her neck, and veiled her ears. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that she might be Muslim.
“Good morning, Dr. Gold. Sorry, I’m late. I was doing morning prayers.”
“Good morning. That’s all right. I didn’t know you were a Muslim.”
“Didn’t Dr. Johnson tell you I am a camp native?”
“No, but yesterday, you didn’t have a hijab. Plus, you speak English very well with a slight British accent.”
“I am fluent in English because I went to school in England for four years, but my first language is Arabic. So, what religion are you?”
Caught off guard by her question, I hesitated. Elaina’s unwavering gaze bore into me, awaiting my response. Back home, revealing my Jewish identity wouldn’t have posed any issue. But here, surrounded by thousands of Muslims and with the desire to impress Elaina, I grappled with uncertainty. Perhaps it was best to steer the conversation elsewhere. I shifted gears, choosing a different topic, hoping to maintain the delicate balance between openness and discretion.
I decided to change the subject. “I need to get something straight first. Please don’t call me Dr. Gold. Call me Joe when I’m not around patients. Technically, I haven’t finished medical school, so I’m not quite a doctor yet, which means you can even call me Mr. Gold when we are around patients.”
Elaina