by Israel Levy
She looked up at him and as her eyes met his, her heart ached. The pain she saw in them was now magnified by the hurt of how quickly she accepted the bad news. She could see she had cut right through him and felt sorry for that. Her feelings began boiling up inside her once again.
“I have an idea. Let’s go to our beach. What do you say? We’ll just leave everything and go, I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said in a whisper.
The dark beach greeted them with the sound of insistent waves, crashing again and again at the thin strip of sand. The air was warm and the lights of distant buildings reflected in the water. She stripped down to her underwear and turned to him, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. He stood silent and still. She reached under his shirt and stroked his chest. A spotlight tore through the cloudless sky, reaching the carpet of stars spreading over the city. They were in only their underclothes and their bodies clung together. Tears choked her.
“Let’s go in the water.”
They stripped completely and ran, hand in hand, into the soft foam of the waves. They continued deeper until she felt the cool water licking at her firm nipples, pressed against his chest. He cupped her breasts, kissing them, nibbling at her tender nipples until her whole body trembled, with cold or excitement she did not know. Still clinging to each other they emerged from the water and fell onto the blanket. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they washed over her face, becoming one with the saltiness of the seawater.
Without a sound, he too began to cry. He looked to her for comfort, hugging and kissing her, and they held each other tight, trying to make sure this moment would last forever in their memories.
He lay on his back and she caressed every part of his body, licking away the droplets of seawater. She climbed on top of him, pulling him inside her, and he could feel her burning like molten lava. Their bodies moved together, slowly, deeper and deeper into the realms of pleasure.
“Moshe.”
“Naomi.”
Their motions gained speed and she felt she couldn’t hold it in a moment longer. She turned on her back, holding him inside as he drove into her stronger, harder. Their motion became one unstoppable vibration and she arched her back as he came inside her just as she was overcome by the most intense orgasm.
She loved feeling his weight on top of her, covering her body with his. He rolled over and lay by her side, his head on her chest.
They breathed heavily. The cool wind that began to blow woke her up and she opened her eyes and looked straight into his, full of endless love. She smiled and pulled his head in closer for a kiss. Her body came back to life and they were swept again into motion.
It was four in the morning when they drove back to her house. They saw cars delivering piles of newspapers outside kiosks and garbage trucks moving from house to house, collecting the previous day’s refuse and leaving the trash cans empty and ready for the new day.
Some elderly people were walking towards the beach, plastic bags in hand, staring at the yellow car that had disturbed the early morning peace.
“Stop here, please.”
She did as he asked and kept the engine running. They looked at each other without saying a word, trying to memorize every facial feature. He opened the door and got out and she continued to face forward, unable to hold back the tears. She drove to the parking lot, turned off the engine and remained sitting in her car.
One of the neighbors came out and nodded at her. She smiled faintly, wiped her tears and went upstairs to her flat.
She noticed the large envelope, picked it up and opened it. She saw the image of her own naked body portrayed in the oil painting, looking peaceful and serene, her eyes soft and loving. The artist’s love for his model could not be denied.
The exquisite painting brought on her tears again and she fell asleep on the sofa, sobbing.
Chapter 8
“Yael. Is Leibowitz in today?”
“And good morning to you too, Madam. Waltzing in at ten, are we? Go straight to the conference room. There’s a meeting that started fifteen minutes ago. Oh, and this came for you. Why do you need a new phone anyway?”
Naomi was surprised but kept a straight face, took the box and went in her office. She opened it and saw a note from Abraham that said ‘Please accept the cellular phone you requested. Abraham Yirmiyahu’ (“This is a ‘clean’ phone, for team use”).
She entered the conference room and was warmly greeted by everyone. Leibowitz was sitting at the top of the table with the legal team on each side.
“Let’s continue. Naomi, you’ll catch up as we go along. So, where were we? Oh, right. The terrorist’s family has filed a motion to dismiss. It turns out the man who recruited their son was a teacher at his school, and that same teacher also recruited their daughter. The father and mother claim they had no knowledge whatsoever of what either Ibrahim or…” Leibowitz checked the papers in his hands “…Aisha were doing.”
Naomi didn’t bat an eye at the mention of the name. It could be purely coincidental, two totally unrelated people (“No way, Ibrahim and Aisha, it all makes sense now”).
“This Aisha has followed in the footsteps of her suicide bomber brother and has become highly active in the extremist cell. We hope to have a chance to catch them in the refugee camps. A writ of habeas corpus has been issued for both Aisha and her cousin Musa. What can I say about this family… these guys have studied here and can easily blend in with the general population. According to the testimony of the restaurant’s security guard the suicide bomber spoke fluent Hebrew, with no trace of an accent, and looked like a guy on leave from his army duty.” He paused for a moment and took a sip of water.
“I hope the Border Police and IDF special units will find them. If they don’t, we have a problem.”
“So,” Leibowitz continued without taking any notice, “we’ve added the names of the siblings, the teacher and the cousin to the suit. Any questions so far?”
Naomi found herself analyzing the new situation but knew she couldn’t possibly head the team. She had to take a month off for training and would be absent for two more months after that.
“Mr. Leibowitz, I need to have a word with you later.”
“That’s fine, come by my office when we’re done here.”
The meeting concluded and everyone dispersed. Yael cleared the table for the next meeting.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Leibowitz, but I won’t be able to lead the team for this trial any more. I need to take a month off (“I’m sure he knows what I’m talking about, so no need to go into detail”). I have twenty five unused vacation days and will take the rest as unpaid leave, if that’s alright.”
“Don’t worry, Naomi. I’m the one who brought you into this. First, let me say how happy and proud I am of what you’ve achieved. Thank you for not letting me down. You’ll get paid for your leave.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like people in the office to think that I’m at the Brussels branch.”
“I’ll tell them you went on an educational program there and have Rami take the lead on the case, but I want you to stay involved.”
He got up, came up to her, shook her hand, and to her surprise gave her a warm hug.
“Yael,” Leibowitz pressed the intercom. “Can you please ask Rami to join us here?”
No more than twenty seconds passed before Rami reported to Leibowitz’s room.
“Rami, I’ve decided to make some changes. I won’t go into too many details right now but I’m sending Naomi to the Brussels office to work with Albert on an upcoming international law case. You’ll take lead and litigate this case. You’ve done excellent work so far and I know you’ll continue to do the same.”
Rami beamed. “Is that alright with you?” he asked Naomi.
“Yes, of course, Rami. It’s been decided. I can’t cove
r everything by myself. We considered Reuben but I recommended you and I really think you’re the best person for the job.”
They all shook hands and Rami and Naomi left Leibowitz’s office.
She decided to go see her mother, whom she hadn’t seen since the first few days following Shuli’s injury.
“Mom, it’s Naomi.”
“Naomi! So I still have a child by that name. How are you? Have you lost your phone? Or did you forget my number? All I get are scraps of secondhand information about you.”
Naomi smiled. Her mother could be a professional nagger, but right now that nagging felt incredibly good.
“Mom, do you mind if I come over for dinner? I want to spend some time with you at home.”
As expected, Naomi’s mother jumped at the opportunity to feed her daughter and they said they’d meet later that night.
Naomi checked her phone, thinking she might have some unanswered calls, but saw what she knew she’d see – no missed calls. She dialed Shuli’s number to hear that she was doing great and that she’d started seeing Yair, the doctor from the hospital (“Gotta give her credit, she marked her prey and went for it”).
It was still so bright outside it felt like midday when in fact it was already six p.m. Naomi had a sudden urge to go to her beach, their beach. She went by her place and opened the bedroom closet, spotting the nude portrait of herself in the corner of her eye. She still hadn’t decided what to do with it. She grabbed her bathing suit and drove to the beach (“I’ll shower at Mom’s”). She stopped the car a bit further down than where she usually parked, scanning the beach before turning off the motor (“Training has really seeped into my system”).
She got out, took off her clothes, slipped into her bathing suit, grabbed her towel and the book, still marked by a folded corner (“I guess I’ll never finish reading this”) and went to the beach. She laid the towel, let down her hair and stepped into the water that welcomed her with the evening coolness. The sea was flat and calm, and her sharp movements left circular ripples that melted into the clear surface of water. She heard nothing but the sound of her own swimming. At a distance of about a hundred meters from the shore she flipped onto her back and floated peacefully, the receding light of day making way for the city lights. She turned back on her stomach and started propelling herself forward with strong, quick strokes.
Her muscles glistened in the water as she made her way through it powerfully.
Her mother greeted her with a hug and sloppy kisses.
“Oy, Noomik, I’ve missed you so much. Come, sit down to eat. You look so thin! Aren’t you eating?”
“Mom, I’m fine. I eat very well. Right now all I want is a shower and a few minutes’ rest. Can I go to my room?”
Her mother led her by the hand to her childhood bedroom which was exactly the same, except now it was extremely tidy. The last time she had stayed here was after she’d moved out of Reuben’s apartment, before finding her own place.
The bed was made with fresh sheets. Her old desk appeared to smile at her with the memory of everything she had once hidden there - exams, love letters, cigarettes, condoms she’d taped to its bottom… She froze for a moment as she felt that old packet of condoms still in its hiding spot.
“Is something the matter, Naomi?”
“No, nothing, just a little emotional, being here again after so long.”
There were clean towels in the closet and she breathed in the familiar smell of the laundry detergent her mother was still using after all these years. She opened curtains to look into the neighbor’s yard. The Zilbersteins used to live there, with their Downs syndrome daughter, and then the Cohens. The father worked at the synagogue and his kids were the ones who taught her how to smoke, sitting in the treehouse they’d built on the big mulberry tree. The oldest son was killed in Lebanon and part of the family’s manner of coping was to leave the house where he’d grown up. They moved to Rishon LeZion and after a big renovation the Oren family moved in. The father was career army and the mother was a secretary at an elementary school (“Nice family”). Their only son, Eyal, was a year older than Naomi and was her first ever sexual partner, before she went to the army.
“Mom! What happened to Eyal Oren? Do they still live here?”
“No,” her mother shouted back her from the kitchen. “They rented out their house to some students two years ago and moved to Karkur. Are you getting in the shower?”
“In a minute, Mom.”
The shower felt cramped (“Maybe it’s me who’s gotten bigger”), with the same plastic shower curtain (“Why won’t she put in a glass screen?”), the same soap, the same sponge. It all felt so much like home, so familiar and comfortable, and secure.
She heard the doorbell ring and her mother open the door and a second later the bathroom door opened.
“Woohoo! Check out that tan,” she heard her sister’s voice.
“Shuli! I’ll be right out.”
She wrapped herself in a large towel.
The sisters hugged for several long minutes, with their mother watching through tears of joy.
“Gave you quite a surprise there, didn’t I, Sis?”
They set down to eat, all three of them together, Shuli showering Naomi with questions and Naomi doing her best to respond without raising too many inquiries.
Her mother’s cold carrot and zucchini stew was amazing. She dipped a slice of bread into its tangy sauce and asked for more.
“Don’t fill yourself up on this. I made plenty of other things you girls love.”
Naomi practically inhaled the stuffed peppers, and the rice, oh, that rice with raisins and almonds with the meatballs on top.
Shuli and Naomi cleared the table. Naomi washed the dishes and Shuli dried them off with a towel.
“This is one for the books, the two of you standing in the kitchen together just like old times,” their mother laughed with joy.
“Naomi, why don’t I stay with you two tonight? I’ll just pop home, get the kids ready for bed and call the babysitter.” She was back an hour later. (“This is a real treat, hanging out with my mother and sister”).
Before long they were spread out on the sofa in front of the TV, moaning and groaning.
“My god, I’m stuffed. I can’t believe I ate so much.”
“Mom, I hope it’s okay with you that we’re staying the night?”
“Of course it is. I’m thrilled.”
They watched the fashion channels (“Mind numbing, but fun”), chatted and gossiped, until shortly before midnight their mother announced, “I’ve had enough, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
Naomi and Shuli sat on the balcony facing the neighbors’ yard. The looked ominous. Shuli made coffee and brought out their mother’s delicious cookies and they talked and talked into the night.
“Shuli, there’s something I want to tell you. No one else knows. But first you need to swear on your children’s lives never to say anything.”
“Swear on the children’s lives? Naomi, you’ve lost it completely. What’s gotten into you? You know I keep all your secrets to myself and you know everything about me.”
“This is different. I need you to swear.”
“Okay, my crazy sister, no problem,” she looked at her with utter bewilderment. “Well, come on. You’re scaring me. I swear on my children’s lives I won’t say a thing.”
Naomi moved closer to her sister and began telling her about the recruitment and the training she’d been through. Shuli sat there, mouth gaping, barely breathing, taking in every word. Finally being able to talk to someone openly about the secret she’d been living with made Naomi feel so much better (“It really takes a load off”), and she didn’t feel so bad about breaking the code of secrecy.
“I’m starting another series of training sessions soon. I’ve told mom and everyone at the office I’m goin
g abroad on a month’s educational program.”
She skipped the airport story, not wanting to upset Shuli, and didn’t mention what happened with Moshe either (“It’s over anyway, so what’s the point”). They went to bed, snuggled up together and kept talking, with Shuli asking the questions and Naomi answering without going into too much detail.
She was woken the next morning by the smell of French toast. Shuli’s side of the bed was empty.
Since the hospital I’ve gotten used to waking up super early,” said Shuli, standing by her mother’s side in the kitchen, dipping the bread in the battered eggs.
“You two have no idea how important this visit was for me. I’ve been so busy with strange, new things I forgot about myself a little bit,” said Naomi, putting her arms around her sister and mother.
None of them reacted to the sound of a cell phone ringing and it took Naomi a few seconds to realize it was the Hatchet phone. She picked it up and went out to the balcony.
“Yes, Naomi here.”
“Today, 14:00, report to Atlit junction next to HaMa’apilim camp. Someone will pick you up,” was all she heard before the person on the other end hung up.
She went back inside.
“Why do you need so many phones?”
She avoided giving an answer and said goodbye to Shuli and her mother. Shuli walked her down to her car and Naomi hugged her without saying a word, her eyes silently tearful, before driving back home.
By now she had plenty of experience with what was just the right amount of clothing to fit in the duffle bag. She decided to arrive at the pickup spot earlier than she’d been told. She got in her car and stopped for a coffee and a cheese-filled pastry at “Bono” at the Yakum gas station. She fueled up and headed north. She exited at the Atlit intersection and turned towards HaMa’apilim camp (“Haven’t been here since that field trip we took here in eighth grade”). She stopped by the side of the road, facing the gate.
At precisely two p.m. the familiar minibus pulled up next to her. Its front door opened and Yaron, the Matkal unit commander, emerged.