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there?” Haim cut him off.
    Now it was Abe’s turn to be confused. “To sail across the Atlantic,” he replied. “How else to get to America?”
    The glow from the stove was far too feeble to see by, but Abe had known Haim too long not to be able to sense when he was troubled. “Little friend?” he softly called.
    â€œHow long ago you first called me that,” Haim sighed. “I was so small and thin you could have fit me in one of the boots you were making.”
    Abe smiled in the darkness. “And now I could fit into one of your boots. But you are still ‘little friend’ to me, Haim, so please tell me what is troubling you.”
    â€œAll this time you spoke of leaving Russia, I—well, I never thought to ask where you intended to go because for me the choice was always so obvious.”
    â€œYes? Go on,” Abe coaxed, feeding more wood into the stove and leaving the grate open for light.
    â€œThis is difficult for me,” Haim said. “I owe you my very existence.” He took a deep breath. “Abe, it never occurred to me that you did not intend to go to the Holy Land.”
    â€œPalestine?” Abe gasped. “You thought we were to go to Palestine? Of course not! We will go to America—”
    â€œNo.” Haim spoke so firmly that Abe’s heart broke at the sound. “You will go to America.”
    â€œDon’t do this, Haim,” Abe implored.
    â€œFor me there is no choice,” he continued impassively. “I must go to Eretz Yisroel.”
    â€œDon’t call it what it no longer is! Your so-called Promised Land now belongs to the Turks. My God, Haim, don’t ruin your life—our lives—this way. The Zionist movement will come to nothing there. Even Hertzl, your movement’s—”
    â€œIt is not just my movement, Abe,” Haim sighed, his tone partly forgiving, partly condescending. “Zionism benefits all Jews.”
    Ungrateful upstart! Abe took a deep breath to calm himself. There was too much at stake to throw it away by letting his anger get the better of him. “Haim, I am sorry. Of course the Zionists mean well. But what I was trying to say was that even Hertzl, the movement’s leader, has proposed that England’s offer of Uganda as a refuge for Jews be accepted.”
    Haim shrugged. “Hertzl is entitled to his opinion.”
    â€œThere is no such thing as a promised land—”
    â€œAnd you are entitled to your opinion, Abe.”
    â€œAt least in America if you work hard enough they promise success.”
    â€œWhy not work as hard in Palestine?”
    â€œAmerica is the place for us.”
    â€œAt the moment there is no place on earth for us. Nowhere on earth are Jews more than tolerated, including your precious America.”
    Abe stared at Haim’s face in the flickering firelight, at his handsome features, animated by his passionate beliefs. He looks like one of God’s angry angels, Abe thought, full of pride and love and the immeasurable pain of imminent loss.
    â€œSince the Diaspora we have lived in ghettos,” Haim was saying, his voice kept low but imbued with righteous thunder. “In Russia we live in a ghetto behind a wall that separates us from them . We live according to others’whims. We are tolerated, like poor distant relatives at an intimate family gathering that is the rest of the world. We have no place to call our own, and until we do, we shall be at the world’s mercy. Do you understand, Abe? If the Jewish way of life is to survive it must develop roots in soil it can call its own. Only then will Jews be able to feel a measure of security and independence.” Here Haim paused and smiled. “Even if they themselves don’t choose to live in Palestine, at least they will know there is a homeland awaiting them if they need it.”
    â€œI don’t believe I could survive in a desert like