My eyes widened. “Seventy thousand? I had no idea.”

“Have you ever been?”

“No.” I felt my face go warm. As if by failing to visit the Holy Land, I betrayed my ancestral heritage. “One day, I’ll go. My father went about ten years ago. My stepmother lived there for a while with her first husband.”

“Your stepbrother’s father.”

“How’d you … Oh, yeah. The one who’s also named Yaakov. We call him Jake or Yonkie.”

“And he is your only sibling?”

“No, I have a half sister named Hannah and another step-brother, Sam. The boys are much younger than I am. They go to college back east. Hannah is ten—the baby.”

He nodded. “My entire family lives in Israel now. My brothers are officers in Zahal—the Israeli army. My sister is also a nurse and lives in Tel Aviv with her family. My father remarried an Ashkenazi woman whose husband had been killed in Lebanon. Batya had four children with her first husband. So for a while we were ten in a very small apartment. Then she became pregnant by my father and they had twin girls. But by that time my brothers and my three stepbrothers had moved out, so there was more room. A year later, I move out at seventeen to do Meluim for three years.”

“‘Meluim’?”

“Army service. After that, I decided to be a nurse. From the army, I already knew the skill. I just needed the book learning. I did an accelerated course and was out in two and a half years with a B.S. in nursing, and a job.”

“So you kind of paved the way for your sister.”

He thought a moment. “Yes, I think so, although in Israel many Ethiopians learn nursing. She is the nurse with a nice, clean office job. My father was very mad at me for becoming a nurse. As a Kohen, I am not supposed to be near dead bodies. My stepmother said if I don’t respect the Kahuna—the priesthood—at least be a doctor.”

“That sounds like a Jewish mother.”

“Yes, Batya is a very Jewish mother. In the end, I follow my heart and my parents make peace with me. I am the youngest son in the family … very spoiled. They don’t stay mad. It is good that I am aware of death. If a baby codes on my shift, I do everything to revive that infant. Of course, the best way not to get a code is to be very watchful. I am very, very watchful.”

“Dedication is good,” I said, throwing back his own words. He smiled at the recognition. “You have a master’s in public health.”

He regarded his badge. “That was four years ago. First the hospital sent me to get a master’s in nursing for one year. They get more federal money if their staff has degrees. I come back and do exactly the same things, except now I have more letters after my name. And I got a bump in salary, so that part was good. Then I think I want even more money, so I do the M.P.H. at state university for another year during the day and work at night. The M.P.H. is for hospital policy, so I get an administration job. And the work does pay better, but it is so boring.”