The Critical Offer

by Yitzhak Nir

  “Wow, what a statement, doctor! Allow me not to express my opinion,” he said looking the doctor straight in the eye. “But regarding our subject, your answer to my question concerning the meaning of these past weeks of quiet, I’m not happy or satisfied. This absolute silence here and in the surrounding region worries me. And your interpretation, Marwan, is not reassuring.”

  That’s your job, Gershon. Don’t go getting paranoid on me! Be glad that the worst is already behind us.”

  Gershon stopped himself from asking: ‘How do you know that the worst is already behind us?’

  “When are you retiring to civilian life, Gershon?”

  “At the end of the year.”

  “Then some of the credit for the present quiet will surely go to you. I must go. I’ve done what you asked and those are the results.”

  “I hope that the nations of the region will thank you for your efforts in the name of peace, and not only in the field of medicine.” He smiled cynically. “Drive carefully, doc. It’s dark outside and Afula is quite a distance away. Are you driving via Highway 6?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, the scenery there is beautiful at night: the whole area from Kafar Kassem to Afula on both sides of the highway is filled with mosques that resemble green missiles. You Arabs are having a great time here…”

  “No chauvinism, please, Gershon!” He threw him a warning glance. “Wasn’t there something personal that you wanted to discuss with me?”

  “Ah, yes. Sorry about that… Doctor Zimmerman has informed me that I have prostate cancer. I’m worried.”

  “Really? That disease, shit… but you have nothing to worry about. You look terrific. You have no pain, apart from back and neck pain, and they are easily explained. I think you have no reason to worry. Nowadays there are many effective treatments for that disease…” he paused, “and apart from that, you didn’t come to us, but to Ichilov Hospital in Tel Aviv, so don’t come complaining to me!” he smiled but his face immediately grew serious: “After the next meeting with Zimmerman, talk to me!”

  “Alright, but he claims that we’ve missed the boat and that matters have gotten out of hand.”

  “Okay. Show me the file.”

  “It’s still with him at Ichilov Hospital. He’s supposed to send it to Dahlia.”

  “Hmm… I understand, my friend. It might involve a simple operation and an easy recovery. Maybe a few pills and you’ll come out of it… I’m just an orthopedic surgeon, but if you want a professional second opinion, I can refer you to the head of our oncology-urology department,” he added, but a lack of confidence was evident in his voice.

  Gershon tried to remain calm, despite the budding anxiety in his stomach.

  “Inshallah, Doc. I hope you’re right… So see you soon and look after yourself. Dir balak!”

  “See you soon, Chief. A gutte nacht, Herr Commandant! Alles gut!” And he laughed.

  Gershon looked gravely into Professor Marwan Sultani’s smiling eyes, and finally replied, “Zei mir gezunt yourself, ya-habibi, drive carefully,” trying to convey business as usual.

  Again they parted with a hug, a lengthier one this time.

  Gershon returned to his weighty deliberations: …The Syrian is showing muscle. This recent quiet seems to me very suspect and Dr. Zimmerman has dropped a bomb on my head. The orthopedics professor has made a political diagnosis, and the Chinese professor, whoever he may be, is waiting to meet me. It’s interesting what he wants… It’s clear that I and everybody else must change direction, and in every aspect…

  “So what will the day bring, Author David Grossman?” he asked in a lyrical vein on his way to the bathroom.

  What Is to Be Done?

  “Good evening!”

  Dahlia entered in a flurry, carrying the cake she had just bought.

  “Don’t you have a home, Dahlia? We arranged to meet after half past nine.”

  “We’re not at work now. And you don’t have any idea how to entertain guests. You invited Adam, didn’t you? So he should be made to feel at home. And apart from that, I see you’ve already had guests! I’ll clear away the cups and plates and tidy up the living room,” she announced without waiting for confirmation.

  “Adam always feels at home here and I see that you do, too. Thanks for the refreshments. What would I do without you..?” He smiled forcibly and muttered under his breath. “I’ve had a hard day, Dahlia.”

  “We’ll talk about that another time. But first, let’s tidy up a bit here.” She turned towards the entrance, collecting the coffee cups.

  “And I’m taking half the cake and some coffee to Shauli and Guy. You never spoil those guys, who are keeping you alive.”

  He stretched out on the armchair and waited. His back sent a painful, threatening message to his left leg.

  “Chief, Adam Ben-Ami has arrived by taxi from Tel Aviv.” Shauli sent an electronic message.

  “Guy!” shouted Gershon towards the entrance, “Tell Shauli that it’s okay!”

  Adam entered with a bottle of wine wearing a white sailor’s sweater, with his ponytail waving behind him.

  “Hi, Gersh! What’s happening? Is some wine okay or are you driving tonight? I caught a taxi straight here and didn’t even take a shower. Your wish, Chief, is my command!” he smiled. They shook hands and hugged. Adam disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray holding wineglasses and half a cake, with Dahlia tiptoeing behind him.

  “Gersh, what’s this about? Have you summoned us here to drink wine? Speak!”

  And Dahlia added, “I hope I’m not disturbing,” in the supplicating tone reserved for special occasions when she hoped her help was required.

  “Dear friends, thanks for coming at such short notice. I know that I can say anything to you without worrying. I would like your advice,” he began, briefly describing the events of the past month. He omitted the gory details,, sipped his wine and looked alternatively at Adam and Dahlia, unable to abandon his didactic tone. Then he opened his hand and counted his dilemmas on his fingers:

  “A: Should I reveal my true occupation to her? B: Should I meet with her father, if he really is her father? And C: Should I report our relationship and to whom?”

  The fourth finger, his meeting with Dr. Zimmerman, he kept to himself.

  “Congratulations, Gershon! So you’ve been falling in love lately and haven’t said a word to me about it? And now that you’re in trouble you come to ask my advice?” Dahlia shot out. “But that’s what men are like, all of you: exploiters. When Nehama left you with the twins for the yeshiva in Jerusalem and you were really in the doldrums, whose shoulder did you cry on?” She turned to Adam. “Mine!” she raised her voice. “And when I, who really loved you, asked you to be my partner, do you remember what you answered? No! You men never remember. But I, fool that I am, have stayed with you all the same, dumb and blind as I am. So now you want me to give you advice about how to deal with some Chinese bimbo that you met in mid-life at a falafel stand?” She glared at him with an accusing look.

  “Wow, Dahlia, I didn’t know,” Adam attempted to hide a guffaw.

  “What do you know anyway, Adam? Hiding in your hovel, disappearing for months to all kinds of ports and forgetting that you were once a Zionist and a proud Israeli fighter pilot,” she fired off, offended.

  “Dahlia, calm yourself. We’ll talk about it sometime, okay? But if this conversation is difficult for you, Adam and I can continue on our own,” he said, trying to sound caring.

  “Fine! I have no interest in your promiscuous bimbos! I’m going to drink coffee with Shauli and Guy. Enjoy the wine without me. I didn’t come here to work!” she hissed in a whisper and stomped noisily out of the kitchen.

  “Adam, I apologize. I didn’t realize that the lava was still bubbling inside her. As you know, I never saw her as a romantic partner, only as a professiona
l assistant.”

  “Ya-Allah! My goodness! What’s going on with you? And there is nothing to apologize for, Gersh. But on the other hand, you are more than a bit impervious to the female sex, huh?”

  “I can do without the sermon, Adam. What do you think about what I asked?” He looked him straight in the eye, trying to convey the importance of his answer.

  “Tell me, Gersh, did you at least Google them?”

  “Of course I did. I also intend tomorrow to discreetly set in motion the means at my disposable. I’m not some naïve kibbutznik who’s lost his head together with his virginity. But before firing off any big guns, I’m asking for additional opinions.”

  “Great! What have you found out?”

  “According to my searches, everything fits. There are no contradictions, but it’s not professional research.”

  “That already raises suspicions. Don’t you think they’ve Googled you as well? Are you aware that they also have guns whose caliber is no smaller than yours? Look, Gersh, I think you mustn’t get carried away. If you’re really that crazy about her, let me help. I’m prepared to join her and her father on their tour of Israel, if she agrees of course. Trust me and my intuitions. After that we can go forward. Don’t shoot off any big guns in the meantime.”

  “Lovely. Thanks, Adam. In any case, within a week I’ll receive a profile and security clearance. It will be difficult for me personally, but I’ll manage. After all I am the director, aren’t I?”

  “Definitely. And at the moment it doesn’t matter if they know who you are or not.”

  “That makes sense. So I’ll arrange for you to join their tour.”

  After a long pause, he added: “Tell me, Adam. Do you think I should inform my deputy and the prime minister that I have met somebody?”

  “Have you gone crazy, Gershon? First of all, you should wait for your system’s security clearance! You do serve the country, but you’re also a single man. Regulations can wait. You’re allowed to have a relationship with whomever you choose! Until you decide which direction you’re going in, don’t say a word to anyone. That’s what I’m here for.” He drank from his glass. “I’m sure you won’t disclose any classified information. After all, you are responsible for the country’s security, aren’t you?”

  Adam gave him a hard look and added: “Dahlia, too, after she calms down, will be there for you as she has been for thirty years, and much more than you’re prepared to admit.” He approached his friend and whispered into his ear: “Gersh, do you have a good lawyer?”

  “A lawyer? What for?”

  “Don’t be childish, Gersh. It’s out of character. With your permission I’ll quote something to you: Don’t visit the social security office, without our social security specialists… One doesn’t get involved in a love affair with a Chinese diplomat without consulting a lawyer. Do you understand?”

  Adam is echoing my own feelings and talking perfect sense… he reflected, but said nothing.

  Dahlia returned to the living room as though everything was as usual.

  “Is everything under control, Dahlia?” Adam called over to her.

  “Adam, your cynicism doesn’t appeal to me this evening. I hope you’re helping Gershon. His extracurricular activities are a little difficult for me and they might also not be appropriate for a Mossad director. As far as I have any influence, I really do try to neutralize my feelings. He has nothing to rush into or anybody to tell. Certainly not,” she said, corking the wine and clearing away the wineglasses.

  “And Adam,” she added, “next week after you’ve traveled with them and smelled her perfume and her father’s - or whoever’s - aftershave, we’ll be all the wiser. Coffee, anyone?”

  The three of them sat on the verandah and drank coffee facing the dark lawn.

  “Adam, do you remember the Sabbath meeting I held here two weeks ago?”

  “How could I forget? One doesn’t meet characters like Benny Yungerman and Professor Safran, not to mention his bitch, every day...”

  Dahlia woke up: “His bitch? You mean that greedy little sausage that is constantly on the lookout, as though she deserves a share of my cookies?”

  “Dahlia, she also liked the peanuts!” Adam laughed.

  Gershon stopped them: “Friends, I emerged from that gathering with hard feelings. I didn’t learn anything new, but the direction we are going in is upsetting to me, but in my job I have to comply without hesitation with the direction determined by my superiors. It’s well known that I’m what may be called a faithful servant.”

  “And do you want us to discuss that now, before Dahlia drives me home to catch up on my sleep?” Adam asked.

  “Affirmative. That’s why you’re here.”

  “So what’s the question?” Adam sounded somewhat impatient.

  “The question is if out there somewhere there’s a new suggestion for resolving the conflict, one that we haven’t heard about yet - or at least I haven’t.”

  “I’m still digesting what you talked about there,” Dahlia commented quietly. “You were talking on a high level. I just want to say that I hate dogs. I have a Siamese cat.”

  “Well, Dahlia, full honors. You could volunteer for the Siamese Twins Association. But if you have any questions regarding political science, I could offer you a shortened version of how Zionism developed. If you agree, of course,” Adam chuckled at her.

  “Slow down, Adam! Don’t make fun of me, a potential deserter like you…” she spat out at him, but she continued: “Maybe I’m just a simple little woman, and Zionism is too big a word for me, but I feel choked. Not physically, but spiritually. My situation is generally fine, but my civilian mood, let’s call it, is quite low…” she added in a lower voice.

  Gershon decided to liven up the conversation and sharpen his own insights: “Dahlia, what’s bothering you? You have a good life, your own apartment, friends, and a rich cultural and intellectual life. You go to concerts, do volunteer work, travel abroad, own a car and have a Siamese cat. You live in a start-up nation where the average income per capita is one of the highest in the world. And you’re at the top of the pyramid, together with the captains who are guiding the ship.” He looked straight at her and retorted, “So where in the world could you live any better?”

  “Excuse me, but that is not the relevant question. What’s the connection? I’m worried like many other people about what’s happening here every day and the direction we’re going in.”

  “Look, we built this country from nothing. We absorbed immigrants, built a mighty army and defeated our enemies in every war. And at the same time we developed agriculture, industry, high-tech, settlements and excellent education and health systems. Seven million Jews live here, in a country we can be proud of. So what are you complaining about?”

  “Excuse me, Gershon,” Adam broke in, “You say we won all the wars. In my opinion, since the Six-Day War we haven’t won a single war because we had no clear goals, apart from survival. That being so, and the way we and they are behaving, we’re doomed to fight forever. At least for the next hundred years… By the way, just as Ben-Gurion prophesied, for me eternity is too long a time to wait…” It was impossible to not to detect the anger in his voice.

  Gershon didn’t reply, while in the darkness a pair of crickets sawed out their love songs on the grass and a choir of dogs howled in the distance.

  “Adam, wait a minute with your eternities,” Dahlia rejoined the discussion. “Tell me, Gershon, are you serious or do you take me for a fool? Everything you said is obvious to everybody. But as a continuation of that Sabbath meeting, I’m worried by what you all phrased so eloquently about tribes, divisions, demography, and all that. But what really worries me is how we, the Jews, are behaving: casting the elderly and the Holocaust survivors by the wayside, not enabling young people to buy apartments, drugging ourselves with vacuous television shows. We’re vio
lent, racist, animal-like, following blindly after a pompous, empty and corrupt leadership, which has been under ostensible and literal criminal investigation for the past twenty years, if not actually put in prison. And specifically, we are a country without compassion, justice or morality. Our national religious community living in Judea and Samaria and knowing the Bible by heart, are contemptuous of the values of the Torah itself! Then there are their endless, despicable battles over the Wailing Wall and Orthodox conversion, as if a billion Chinese can’t wait to become Jews! Sometimes I feel that I have no connection with what’s happening here anymore. As the famous Israeli author, Yaakov Shabtai, once said: ‘I feel like an exile in my own land.’”

  “Dahlia, no slogans, please. Speak decisively and to the point!” Adam broke in again.

  “I’m speaking very much to the point. I’m very disturbed by the deep internal schisms that we are gradually becoming accustomed to. But one day, like a malignant disease, when all the forces have to be mustered, it turns out that the body is eaten away from within. Do you understand, Adam? And beneath all the layers of denial, I live in fear for our continued existence here as a nation.”

  “Well, but Professor Yeshaiahu Leibowitz already foresaw that, after the Six-Day War: ‘Conquest corrupts,’ he said, and indeed it does.” Adam became pensive. “They are talking so much about the decline of Zionism that everything has become one sticky mess: tribalism, poverty, low culture, educational gaps, insufficient housing, religiosity, corruption, greed, indifference, violence and racism. A shallow leadership faces an ineffective opposition and a messianic chosen people complex. But above and beyond that, hatred is being fostered among brothers, justice is being trampled underfoot and Jewish morality is being ignored. That’s the direction and in my opinion it’s deterministic.”