The lion tunnel: A short story

• Published date: 07 October 2021
• Author: HANNAH BROWN
• Publication title: Jerusalem Post, The: Web Edition Articles (Israel)

Oren, my son who is 24 and has autism, likes to sit in the backseat of the car when we go out. He pushed his head in between the front seats and met her gaze, saying, "You are a soldier."

She was disconcerted, as anyone would have been. I told her our address and told him to put on his mask.

cnxps.cmd.push(function () { cnxps({ playerId: '36af7c51-0caf-4741-9824-2c941fc6c17b' }).render('4c4d856e0e6f4e3d808bbc1715e132f6'); });

>

"You are more than one kilometer from home," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Soldier, you are a soldier," Oren said.

I took comfort in the fact that she had not requested any ID documents from me. This was going to go better than I had feared.

"It's just, he..." One of Oren's therapists had taught me a rule: Don't talk about your child in front of him, don't make him feel like a problem. I especially tried not to use the words "autistic" and "autism" around Oren. However, when there is a soldier involved...

"What?" the soldier said.

"He has autism and I know if you have special needs, you are allowed to go more than a kilometer from home," I said. "I can show you his disability card."

She said, "But what are you doing here?"

They say the truth will set you free. That has rarely been my experience. But sometimes, it turns out, it can get you out of trouble.

"Normally, we go to the zoo on Saturday afternoon, but since we can't, he likes to drive through this tunnel," I said, gesturing to the tunnel the soldiers were standing in front of, as if they were guarding it. It goes along a boulevard that connects many neighborhoods and runs past the Supreme Court building.

"This tunnel?"

"It's... there are statues of lions and he likes them," I said.

"The lion tunnel," Oren said.

It amazes me that most Jerusalemites have not noticed this, but this short tunnel features cupolas on both sides filled with small faux-ancient statues of lions, built so they are turning to look at the oncoming traffic. At Purim, they wore red and black masks – someone climbs up there and puts them on the statues – the kind you would see at the carnival in Venice. Now, of course, they were wearing surgical masks. A few had on rainbow-colored leis as well. I often wondered who would climb up there with a ladder to accessorize the lions. Hipster artists? Bored yeshiva students? Teen girls? In this neighborhood, in this city, it could be anyone.

The soldier turned toward the tunnel and I hoped she could see at least the first lion from her post, although I wasn't at all sure. But there was something in my favor in this situation. Virtually everyone the soldiers stopped was not supposed to be here during this third lockdown, and virtually everyone would...