Ashes of the Red Heifer by Shannon Baker

“The words of our Sages instruct us in an endless number of sources, and it is explicit in Mishpat Kohen, section 94, ‘If there will be a desire, that we rebuild the Temple, even before the Messiah comes.’ My people. The Lord’s chosen people. We have a desire. Today we will lay the cornerstone. It is time for the Messiah.”
    A cheer went up from the crowd around him. More people squeezed into the plaza, and all of them were men. Several of them gave her disapproving looks but most had tense expressions and didn’t pay any attention to her.
    David reached her and leaned close. “This is the men’s side. You can’t be here.”
    A man in a black suit knocked her into David. “What is this place?” she asked.
    “The Wailing Wall. The closest they’ll let us get to the Temple Mount to pray.”
    He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the street.
    Shouting voices rose from a side street. A crowd surged toward her. She scrambled to get out of their way but they overtook her and carried her along in their fervor. She lost her hold on David’s hand. Fear sucked air from her lungs and her heart thundered like a runaway stage. She fought to get to David but his face receded into the press of men.
    The men surrounding her all wore black: hats, coats, long curls, and they chanted something Annie didn’t understand. Moving against them was like battling a dangerous undertow.
    The people gathered in the plaza roared with excitement. The whole place thrummed with expectation. Chanting turned into song. The man on the bullhorn joined the group and shouted, “The cornerstone is here. We are doing the Lord’s will today. Blessed be Israel!”
    Growing panic pulsed through Annie. She felt trapped, forced along with the crowd toward the wall. She searched for David, wanting desperately to get out of the roiling mass of people.
    From the corner of her eye she saw something drop from the sky. A man raised his arm above his head. Suddenly more objects fell. People screamed and shielded their heads. A man next to her cried out and dropped to the ground, grabbing his head. Blood seeped between his fingers.
    A stinging blow grazed her ear, followed by a smashing on her shoulder that drove her to her knees, numbing her arm. She finally understood that people above, on Al Aksa, were hurling rocks into the crowd. Covering her head with her good arm, she struggled to her feet and fought the mob to get away from the onslaught.
    People around her started to run, screaming with frustration, anger, and pain. Annie ran with them, not knowing where to go. In the panicked stew, she heard orders shouted over a bullhorn, but not the exact words. A crush of uniformed men wielding guns rushed through the crowd, knocking people aside.
    Someone grabbed her arm. Hassan wheezed beside her. “Hurry… tear… gas.”
    Panic seized her at the sight of Hassan. He and his accomplices would drag her away. She’d never be seen again. She wrenched free. A fist-sized rock smashed into the back of the man in front of her and he went down to his knee. David fought the mob to get to her. And she was in his arms.
    He pulled her close and bent over her. “Are you hurt?”
    She pointed. “Hassan.”
    Rocks hailed on the plaza; the noise of the mob deafening.
    David squinted at Hassan. He pulled her tighter and together they struggled through the panicked mass.
    Annie tried to see if Hassan followed. David tugged her along. She strained to look behind her. Hassan’s eyes focused on her, despite the interference of others.
    Suddenly two men in Israeli police uniforms grabbed Hassan from behind. His eyes flew open in alarm. He fought to get free.
    “Hassan!” Annie squirmed from David’s hold. She shoved someone out of her way to get back to him. She didn’t care about the Silim or that he’d wanted to kidnap her. He was in trouble. She had to help him.
    The policemen seemed to swallow Hassan and drag him away.
    David grabbed her. “Annie, no!” he