Stories from Palestine 2023

Mr. Monday - Part 2

Three days pass.

I was taken to a room where a Palestinian medic treated my wound. I was eating the same food they were eating, mostly pita bread and cheese. The only thing I had as entertainment was a radio that I kept on 24/7 listening to the news. I couldn't believe the amount of barbaric atrocities that happened that day, the mass shooting of a music festival, the burned civilians, the raped women, the beheaded babies.

It was the biggest attack in Israel's history. The Palestinians despise us. Only because we're Jews. That week I learned that my neighbour was killed. I shiver every time I remember she could've been the dead body I saw in her backyard.

But what really consumed my mind was my brother and my grandmother, and whether or not they were one of the 1,400 people who were killed.

"I'm sorry dear, I don't know where they are," said the paramedic as she put a new bandage around my leg.

"Ask him. The Brigades militant. The one who brought me here. Please."

"Which militant brought you?"

"I don't know his name," I say. "But he knows mine. May."

The medic purses her lips. "Okay, I'll ask him for you."

An hour after she leaves, someone knocks on the door. I can't wrap my head around the idea that my privacy is respected in a hostage situation. "Come in."

A young man, about my age, steps in. He has dark, tousled hair and wears a casual black T-shirt that hugs his well-defined physique. "Hi, Mia," he waves at me. "Your grandmother and brother are alive and well. I checked on them myself."

I don't know if I believe him.

I furrow my eyebrows. "Where's the guy who brought me here?"

"That would be me."

My immediate thought is to tell him, "No, it's not you." But he has the same eyes, the same raspy voice. He is a lot younger than I imagined. Cleaner. More... normal. I don't know what I expected him to look like, but that's not it.

Part of the intimidation I previously felt towards him faded, which let me build up the courage to ask, "Why did you kill those people? People from the Kibbutzim are peace-loving, they empathized with Palestinians..."

He pulls a chair and sits down. "I never killed a civilian. Our target is the Israeli army. But I admit—some of my colleagues are more violent and vengeful than others. To be honest, we expected a lot more security at the border, not less than usual. Especially that they knew our attack plan beforehand."

I stay silent, unsure of what he means.

"It looks like you're gonna be here a little longer than we thought. Your government doesn't want to negotiate on a hostage swap."

"Why should they negotiate with terrorists?"

"Because we have you hostage," he says. "They have no choice. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we negotiate with them on something like this."

"But why did you do this to us? Those were innocent people..."

He pauses and searches my eyes. "I could ask you the same question."

I feel a knot in my stomach. I don't wanna be here anymore.

"The medic told me you are allowed to walk now, but only using crutches. So I can take you to see your family."

He gives me crutches and I follow him out of the house and into the tunnel, to a room with a couch and a bed and...

"May!" Kay runs to hug me.