The Book of Disappearance

by Ibtisam Azem

  “What are they talking about? I don’t understand.”

  “The Arabs are gone! Simply gone. None of them showed up to work. Their houses are empty and their phones ring, but no one answers. The workers, beggars, prisoners, teachers, patients, café owners, cooks, and garbage men. They are aaaaaaaaaall gonnnnnneeeee.”

  She took a deep breath and continued.

  “No one knows what is happening. They disappeared, Ariel. Na’lamu ata mifen zeh na’lamuuuuu?”

  “Calm down please. You’re losing it. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “What about your Arab friends? They didn’t tell you about it?”

  “I was with Alaa last night until around eleven, or shortly thereafter. We talked a bit and then he went to his apartment. Wait, I’ll call him and you’ll see for yourself.” Ariel went to the bedroom and put on black underpants and a pair of jeans, and a white V-neck T-shirt. He came back with his cell phone in hand and dialed Alaa’s number. Zohar sat on the couch looking out the window to her left.

  “His phone is turned off, or out of coverage. He’s supposed to be at work now. We came back relatively early so he could get up in time for work.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? All the Palestinians have disappeared. You won’t find Alaa, or the others. I don’t care about them. But we need to know where they went and what is happening?”

  “I‘ll go knock on his door. Wait here!”

  He went out barefoot and ran down to the third floor. He rang Alaa’s bell, confident that he’d open the door in no time, if he’s not at work. Taking time to open the door doesn’t mean anything necessarily. Alaa’s usually late. Ariel rang the bell several times and then started banging on the door and calling out, “Alaa, Alaa, ata bu?”

  When he went back up Zohar was getting ready to leave.

  “He’s not answering.”

  “You mean he disappeared with the others.”

  “I don’t want to get into an argument, but I don’t think he’s disappeared. Maybe he’s wiped out and wasn’t able to go to work. We drank a whole bottle of wine last night and he was tired. His phone is off and he only turns it off when he’s asleep.”

  “You still don’t get what’s happening. Listen to your voicemail. Listen to the news. This is the nonchalant attitude that ruined our relationship. I’m going.”

  He asked her to stay, but she was determined to leave. He checked his voicemail.

  “Ariel, it’s your mother. Please call me back as soon as you get this.”

  “Ariel, mother here again. Call me! Where are you? Why is your phone turned off? I’m very worried about you. Please call.”

  “Hi Ariel, Matthew here. I’m sure you’ve already heard. I know you are on vacation, but this is an emergency. Call us right away. We sent several e-mails. Please call ASAP.”

  “Shalom Ariel. This is Dany. I returned two days ago and I’d planned to call you earlier to have a drink, but am calling now because of what happened. Maybe you have some information or explanation? Please call me.”

  “Ariel, this is Zohar. Please call me.”

  “Zohar again. I’ll stop by your place, maybe you’re there. I’m worried about you. Call me.”

  He felt numb. He couldn’t believe what was happening. As if it’s doomsday. Is it a war? He called Alaa again. No answer. He didn’t even reach his voicemail so he could say a sentence or two in the hopes that Alaa would call back once he hears the message. All he got was the automatic message: “The number you called is outside the service area. Please try again later.”

  He called his mother, who said in a shaky voice:

  “Where are you? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since this morning. I’m very worried. I miss your father. Were he alive we’d know what is happening.”

  “How about good morning first, mother? Please calm down. No need to worry this much. Everything will be fine. Had there been any danger, we would’ve known right away. Please calm down.”

  “But the news is worrisome. It reminds me of Yom Kippur, when the Arabs attacked us from all sides, and we were going to lose everything. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “There is no need for all this, please. What you’re saying isn’t true. We defeated them in just six days and regained our strength. No need to worry. I’ll call Dod Itzik and get back to you, please.”

  “Ok, I’ll wait for your call.”

  He liked to call him “Dod Itzik,” “Uncle Itzik,” as if the two went together. His affection and respect for Itzik increased after his father died. They remained close even if and when they disagreed. Ariel did not think it was necessary to keep the West Bank and Gaza. That’s what he called them at times. Otherwise it’s always “Judea and Samaria.” During his reserve military service, he was sent to Hebron. That was his nightmare. He thought about refusing to go there, but he decided that his presence and writing about it would be more important and consequential than refusing to serve. He wrote about it and some stopped talking to him after that. Alaa used to tell Ariel that he was merely creating “good” excuses to justify horrors. Itzik used to criticize him a lot, too, but for other reasons. But Itzik stood by his side and never abandoned him. Perhaps because he had paternal feelings toward him. There was an argument about the country’s priorities during the last dinner where he and Itzik were guests. Ariel said that Iran was Israel’s major problem and they had to focus on Hizballah, because it is its long arm in Lebanon. They should withdraw from the West Bank and Gaza and allow for the establishment of a demilitarized Palestinian state. Those seated around the table were aghast and looked at him as if he’d just arrived from outer space. They were all were in agreement about Iran, but they objected to the idea and location of a demilitarized state. For how could Ariel, the son of an IDF hero, utter such words? His father was killed when his helicopter crashed during a military operation in south Lebanon. How could he call Judea and Samaria “the West Bank and Gaza?” How could he say that they don’t need them, and that a Palestinian entity must be established there and they should swap the land and settlements? Spitting in their faces would’ve been less offensive. Itzik interceded and took care of remedying the situation. The subject was closed and it was only revisited later when Itzik called to talk to him. The other guests were so appalled by Ariel’s statement. It didn’t matter to them that he was not against military service in principle. He just didn’t think it was useful to serve in the territories to provide protection for settlements.

  Ariel went to the bathroom to take a leak. His phone was in his hand and he dialed Itzik’s number. He looked in the long mirror. It was a strange moment. He thought his face belonged to some other person whom he’d met, but didn’t know very well. Itzik wasn’t answering. He put the phone aside, washed his hands quickly, and then went back to the living room to call others.

  11

  Ariel

  Dear Matthew,

  I tried calling you, but you were not at the office. I heard the voicemail you left. Since I was on break today, I didn’t keep my cell on and I overslept. I only woke up because I was so thirsty (too much wine last night!). What is happening in the country is Tohu va vohu. I called one of my father’s old friends many times and finally got a hold of him. His answer to my inquiries was shocking. He said that no one knows exactly what happened.

  He occupies a sensitive position, so if he doesn’t know what is taking place, then our situation is quite dangerous, unless we solve this conundrum in the next forty-eight hours. Tohu va vohu! No one, and I stress, no one, knows what the hell is going on. I’ll file my article in the next few hours.

  More later

  Shalom Ovrakha

  Ariel

  12

  Ariel

  “Dear Listeners, we continue our special coverage. It is ten past eleven a.m. and we have Shlomo Ben Gaon, expert on Arab affairs, with us here in the studio. We will try to answer your questions and comments, and will be taking calls for the next two hours. Hagit, from Je
rusalem, is on the line. Hagit, Shalom Ovrakha, go ahead.”

  “Shalom everybody! All these media outlets are saying it’s too early to say for sure what has happened. Aval eluhim yashmour. I can’t understand how it’s almost midday and our government has yet to issue a statement clarifying what is going on. The media has been repeating the same line since the early morning. ‘We don’t know what is happening.’ How can we not know what is happening? Where are the surveillance cameras? Is what you announced about security detainees having disappeared true? If so, then we will face an army of terrorists who will come out of nowhere. An army of thousands who are trained to kill and wreak havoc. Can the IDF control them? They are ticking bombs, ready to blow themselves up. What will happen if thousands of Arabs blow themselves up in our midst? Are we ready for this scenario?”

  “Oh oh, Hagit, tiragai ktsat. Relax! We don’t want to terrify our listeners. You should be more careful with these wild prognostications that stem for an understandable, but rather exaggerated fear. Ben Gaon, could you comment on what Hagit said?”

  “There is, undoubtedly, a general state of fear, but we have to remember that we are still in control. That the IDF or the government have not declared an official response until now, doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t have information about this matter. The confusion in the media doesn’t necessarily reflect any confusion or threat on the security level. What is taking place is a storm, a powerful one, or one that appears to be powerful. But it should not make us lose our self-confidence, or our confidence in our army. We, and our allies, are the strongest in the world, and no one can touch us. This doesn’t mean that the terrorists will not try to do something to weaken our morale. There is no doubt that we are facing a number of issues that are still unclear. There is also a feeling of disappointment in regards to Israeli Arabs. We have trusted them to live together with us in peace and try to coexist without them trying to destroy us. At any rate, we must preserve our unity. We are still waiting for reactions from Arab states which haven’t issued any official statements against us so far. Some of the so-called Arab Spring states are waging a propaganda campaign against us and inciting people, but we are used to that. What is important is to be vigilant and careful.”

  “Thank you Hagit. We’ll take another caller. Daniel, from Netanya. How are you Daniel?”

  “I’m doing great. I’m so happy.”

  “Oh, I’m happy that someone is happy, and doesn’t seem to be worried. Tell us why you are so happy?”

  “The news we’ve been hearing since this morning is great. I would like to salute our brave soldiers who carried out a clean operation to rid us of the fifth column and terrorists who were around us everywhere. We have finally cleaned up the country and achieved what we weren’t able to do during the war of independence. But what I still don’t understand is all this fear and noise about the Arabs disappearing, or being deported by the IDF? As far as I’m concerned, this was a problem that we finally managed to solve. Does it matter how? The friends of Arabs, or let us say, the friends of the Palestinians, because our state has no qualms with Arabs in neighboring countries, except for Hizballah and Iran. Anyway, the friends of terrorists who are now screaming and wondering where their friends are. To these leftists I say, if you love Arabs so much, just go with them wherever they have gone. Let them establish a state where al-Qaida is, or anywhere. Look, even Arabs don’t want these terrorists. Everyone wants to keep them here and to send those ticking bombs from refugee camps here. I don’t like these two-faced leftists. Why worry and waste time talking about where and how the Arabs disappeared? What’s important is that they’re gone. It doesn’t matter how. Let them go to hell, or to Arab countries. I think our brave army is responsible for this genius operation, which will go down in history . . .”

  “Toda Raba Daniel. Ben Gaon?”

  “Daniel’s approach is important. He doesn’t want to stir and spread fear in the country, and is trying to maintain confidence. But we shouldn’t exaggerate, of course. We must be very careful not to say that the IDF is responsible for what happened to the Arabs. We must remember that, as of yet, we don’t know for sure what is taking place. More importantly, Israel is a state of laws and is still the only democracy in the region. The Muslim Brotherhood, who were brought about by the Arab Spring, have produced Salafis and sharia states, not secular democracies like ours. We are a country of laws. We represent western values and civilization in the midst of these backward states. The doors will, for sure, be open now for bilateral relations and peace agreements. Daniel is correct in that even the Arabs are tired of Palestinians. So, yalla basta. Whether the Arabs went by choice or they were planning a massive suicide mission, it is crucial for things to be clear and ethical and to proceed according to the law. If the disappearance continues, there is no doubt that many problems will be solved. But we have to be steadfast, wait, and be vigilant.”

  “Apologies, Ben Gaon, I have to interrupt you. Tamer Weiss, our correspondent in Tel Aviv is on the line from Dizengoff Street. Tamer, how are things?”

  “Dorit, we are in the middle of Tel Aviv. Streets are less crowded than usual at this hour of the day. Pedestrian movement and traffic were normal earlier in the morning, but have slowed down now. I spoke to some shop owners, particularly those who sell food in and outside Dizengoff Mall. These are usually packed with customers around noon. Many restaurant owners confirmed that traffic was slower compared to previous days, but it wasn’t affected too much since those who come here work in the area. But the stores depend on shoppers, many of whom preferred to stay home, follow the news, and be careful, especially that the news about the disappearance has been confirmed. But even if restaurant owners are correct, car traffic in Dizengoff is still semi-normal for this time of day. At any rate, Tel Aviv is always teeming with life and no one can stop it. Back to you, Dorit.”

  “Tamer, did you canvass voices on the street? Did the police announce any new measures that citizens must follow?”

  “Dorit, we spoke to many pedestrians as well as store owners. The great majority of them don’t seem to be too worried. There is vigilance, but I think the strong presence of police and security throughout the country is reassuring. The police have increased their presence in the city center, especially here on Dizengoff and in the surrounding area. They have called on citizens to be careful and continue with their lives as usual, but be vigilant. According to one police official we spoke to, due to the anxiety some are feeling, calls informing on items thought to be bombs or explosives are five times the normal rate. The police take each call seriously and follow up. However, they haven’t found anything dangerous until now. Back to you in the studio, Dorit.”

  “Thank you, Tamer. This was Tamer Weiss who gave us an idea about the atmosphere on Dizengoff Street in Tel Aviv. There will be a summary of the news very soon and we will continue afterward with some analysis from our guest in the studio in the next hour. We will continue to take your calls and listen to your opinions, and will hear from our correspondents in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Haifa, the north and south, as well as Kiryat Arba, and other points. It is midday. We’ll be back after the news.”

  Ariel turned down the volume on the radio to a background whisper, and turned up the TV. He surfed through channels and settled on the special coverage on Channel 2. He browsed some international and Israeli newspaper sites on his laptop. He turned up the volume some more to be able to hear it in the kitchen where he went next to make some coffee. The news mentioned that all areas where Palestinians resided had been declared closed military zones. Several journalists said in interviews that they had tried to enter these areas, including Jaffa, but the army prevented them from doing so.

  Press offices refused to give any special entry permits to those areas during the coming forty-eight hours. Going there would be of no use anyway, he thought as he took a sip of the coffee, which scorched his tongue. He called the IDF press office and the Tel Aviv municipality to check if it was necessary to get a
special permit to go to Jaffa, or any other Arab area. He got the same answer. No permits are being given and he should call the following day.

  13

  Sahtayn Hummus

  Sahtayn had been open for ten years. Its owners, Akram and his wife Yasmeen, have excellent rapport with their customers. They often forget that the two are Palestinians except when they hear them speaking Arabic to each other, or to one of their children.

  Roni comes all the way from north Tel Aviv once a week just to eat at Sahtayn. After finishing his breakfast there, he usually walks the ten steps from Sahtayn Hummus to Café Sarah, nearby on Shenkin Street, to drink his coffee and read the newspaper.

  Today, however, there was no confident smile, political joke, or a curse about the rising cost of life in Tel Aviv. Nor were there complaints, questions, sighs, or any new Arabic words for Roni to learn. Sahtayn was closed and many of its customers went back after standing in front of its dirt-colored, iron door. There was no sign posted to indicate that it would be closed today.

  Roni’s walk from Sahtayn to Café Sarah was lonely and slower than usual. “We won’t forget, nor forgive the fifth of November, 1995” read the slogan on one of tens of posters that covered the glass facade of Café Sara. Roni used to stop and read the writing on all the posters every time he entered the café. This ritual reassured him that things were still the same since the last time he came the week before.

  He didn’t exchange greetings and niceties with Sara this time. He just said “Boker” but without “tov.” He didn’t tell her how delicious the hummus at Akram and Yasmeen’s was. They usually chat as he reads his newspaper, cursing the Israeli right and lamenting the days of Rabin. Had Rabin lived, everything would have been better. Sara and Roni agree on that every week. But this week he had many questions for which Sara had no answer. Sara wasn’t herself either. She didn’t crack any jokes, or regale him with one of her many stories. She looked at her watch and was surprised that he had come at that hour.