Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer(98)

“I have directed my administration to respond with the full resources of the United States in the urgent task of rescuing those still trapped beneath the rubble, and to deliver the humanitarian relief that will be needed in the coming days and weeks. In that effort, our government, especially USAID and the Departments of State and Defense, is working closely with our partners in the region and around the world.

“There are several urgent priorities. First, we’re working quickly to account for U.S. embassy personnel and their families in Tel Aviv, Amman, and Beirut, as well as the many American citizens who live and work in the region. Americans trying to locate family members are encouraged to contact the State Department at 299-306-2828.”

“Say it,” Tamir told the screen.

“Second,” the president continued, ignoring Tamir, “we’ve mobilized resources to help rescue efforts. In disasters such as this, the first days are absolutely critical to saving lives and avoiding even greater tragedy, so I have directed my teams to be as forward-leaning as possible in getting help on the ground and coordinating with our international partners as well.”

“Say the word!”

“Third, given the many different resources that are needed, we are taking steps to ensure that assisting governments act in a unified way. I’ve designated the administrator of the U.S. Agency for International Development, Dr. Philip Shaw, to be our unified disaster coordinator.

“Now, this rescue and recovery effort will be complex and challenging. As we move resources into the Middle East, we will be working closely with partners on the ground, including local government agencies, as well as the many NGOs, the United Nations missions—which appear to have suffered their own losses—and our partners in the region and around the world. This must truly be an international effort.”

“Say the word!”

For the first time in decades, perhaps ever, Jacob remembered the Texas Instruments Speak & Spell he’d had as a child. He brought it to the beach one summer; it melted onto a picnic table and wouldn’t stop repeating “Say it,” not even when it was turned off—like a ghost: “Say it, say it, say it…”

“And, finally, let me just say that this is a time when we are reminded of the common humanity that we all share. Despite the fact that many are experiencing tough times here at home, I would encourage those Americans who want to support the urgent humanitarian efforts to go to WhiteHouse.?gov, where you can learn how to contribute. This is not a time to withdraw behind borders, but to extend ourselves—our compassion and our resources—to the people of the Middle East. We must be prepared for difficult hours and days ahead as we learn about the scope of the tragedy. We will keep the victims and their families in our prayers. We will be aggressive and resolute in our response. And I pledge to the region that you will have a friend and partner in the United States of America, today and going forward. May God bless you, and those working on your behalf. Thank you very much.”

“He just couldn’t bring himself to say it.”

“Neither can you, apparently.”

Tamir gave Jacob that most annoying of all looks: the put-on assumption that Jacob must be joking—surely he was joking.

“What? Military? Aid?”

Tamir muted the television, which had moved on to images of fighter jets coring massive apples of smoke, and said: “Israel.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t you.”

“Of course he said it.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

“He did. He said, the people of Israel.”

“Of the region.”

“Well, he definitely said Tel Aviv.”

“But he definitely didn’t say Jerusalem.”

“He did. But if he didn’t—and I’m sure he did—it’s only for all of the perfectly reasonable reasons you know.”

“Remind me of what I know.”

Tamir’s phone started ringing, and as with every call he’d received since the earthquake, it didn’t have to ring twice. It might be news from Rivka or Noam. It might be a response to one of his dozen attempts to get home. E-mail had come back early that morning, so he knew they were safe. But there were innumerable unaccounted-for family and friends.

It was Barak calling from upstairs, asking if he could use the iPad.

“What’s wrong with yours?”

“We want two.”

Tamir hung up.

“It’s a regional catastrophe,” Jacob resumed, “not an Israeli one. It’s geological, not political.”

“Nothing is not political,” Tamir said.

“This isn’t political.”

“Give it a few minutes.”

“And if you were somewhat less insistent on hearing your name, it would be somewhat easier to say.”

“Ah…”

“What?”

“It’s our fault.”

“That came out wrong.”

“And can I ask you,” Tamir went on, “who you is? When you say, ‘If you were somewhat less insistent,’ who is the you?”

“You.”

“Me, Tamir?”

“Yeah. Israelis.”

“Israelis. OK. I just wanted to be sure you didn’t mean Jews.”