“Yeah.”
Yossi hops onto the hood of the car, and Raphael scrambles up next to him, reclining on the warm metal and taking in the desert air. He stares into the deepening blue of the cloudless expanse. The intensity of the light is diminishing, and the surrounding hills are taking on their first tinges of gold and ochre as the sun dips westward.
“We were raised to believe that everything happens for a reason, that there are no coincidences,” Raphael says after several moments of silence. “Take me, for example. There were all these signs when I was born that supposedly meant I was special.”
Yossi lays back on the hood and lets out a quiet laugh.
“I’m serious. You know I was born without a foreskin, right? Like Yaakov Avinu, and Yosef his son, and King David.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Savta always told me it was a sign I was destined to be a leader of Israel. Ima used to believe that, too.”
“I know.”
“They said that when you put that together with the fact I was born on Yom Kippur and also that Abba descends from the line of Judah, it’s clear I’m meant to be someone important.”
“You mean like the Messiah?”
Raphael sits up. “Yes, exactly.”
Yossi raises himself on one elbow and squints one eye against the glare of the afternoon sun. “And what do you think?”
“I used to believe it… before we left for Los Angeles. After that, everything changed. Nothing made sense anymore. The better I became at stuff, like art, and sports, and languages, the worse I became in other ways.”
A distant, high-pitched sound breaks the silence of the desert, and they look up as five fighter jets appear above the rim of the makhtesh and screech across the sky heading south, leaving a thick trail of exhaust in their wake. Yossi and Raphael remain quiet a few seconds after the jets have disappeared. Once silence descends over the desert again, they look at each other. Raphael catches what he interprets as a flash of concern in Yossi’s usually placid expression.
“We should move on.” Yossi returns to the driver’s side and pulls open the door. “It’ll be dark in a couple of hours.”
Raphael climbs into the car and stares back at the pit as they veer off the highway and travel off-road into the open desert. After jolting over sand and stones, and across ancient riverbeds coursing through multilayered mini canyons weathered away over aeons, they burst free of a forest of acacias into a large clearing at the edge of a running spring.
They work quickly to set up a two-man tent in the encroaching darkness a couple of metres away from the edge of a small pool created by the spring, near a circle of stones with the charred remains of a campfire. When they finish assembling the tent, Yossi sends Raphael to fill their canteens with water from the spring while he builds a fire in the stone circle and takes a few minutes to spray snake repellent around the perimeter of the clearing.
By the time they sit side by side roasting chicken and potatoes in the fire, darkness has enveloped the clearing save for a hint of electric purple and crimson from the twilight as it burns itself out at the western edge of the sky.
The disappearance of the sun is accompanied by a plunging of the temperature. Yossi and Raphael pull on their jackets. They huddle together and devour their dinner, chasing it with the cold spring water. Raphael watches Yossi dab the grease from his lips with a cloth napkin. The sight of his handsome cousin illuminated by the flickering campfire moves him, and he leans against him to savour the sense of closeness he feels in that moment.
“What did you think?” Yossi asks, folding the napkin and holding it out to Raphael.
Raphael rubs his mouth clean and tosses aside the napkin. “Best meal I’ve ever had.” He pats his belly and burps.
Yossi lets out a ringing laugh and stands to work out the stiffness in his legs.
“Let’s go for a hike,” Yossi says, shouldering his machine gun.
“A hike?” Raphael looks around at the clearing and back at Yossi. “It’s dark.”
Yossi produces a pair of flashlights from his backpack and hands one to Raphael. “We have these. Plus, there are lots of stars up there.” He points at the sky with his flashlight. “It won’t seem as dark once your eyes adjust.”
“What about snakes? Don’t they come out at night?”
“Don’t worry. Just stay close to me. We’re not going that far.” He points at a low ridge overlooking the clearing. “That’s where we’re headed.”
Raphael grasps Yossi’s arm as they pick their way across the clearing and ascend the ridge, accessing it via a switchback trail.
When they arrive at the summit, Raphael is surprised to see the crumbling ruins of an ancient Ottoman caravanserai spread out on the hilltop. It glows softly in the gentle starlight. Yossi sprints ahead and disappears into one of two intact watchtowers, ignoring Raphael’s complaints at being left alone. A few seconds later he appears above the crenellated crown of the tower and calls for Raphael to join him.
Raphael jogs over and locates an opening at the base of the tower with an internal stone staircase spiralling upward. When he emerges at the top, he finds Yossi sitting on the crown smoking a cigarette, his back turned to him, legs dangling over the side of the tower. Yossi’s machine gun is precariously balanced on the wall next to him.
“Come, sit,” Yossi says, staring straight ahead into the darkness. “Right here.” He slaps the wall.
Raphael hesitates a moment, then climbs onto the wall and regards his cousin out of the corner of his eye. Yossi taps a cigarette out of a pack of Dubeks, lights it with his, and hands it to Raphael.
Raphael inhales the harsh smoke deep into his lungs and ends up coughing and spluttering for the next couple of minutes.
“I forgot to warn you,” Yossi says. “They’re not Marlboros.”
Raphael flicks the cigarette into the darkness. “How can you smoke that shit? It’s nasty.” He wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
“You can get used to anything.” Yossi’s left hand brushes against his machine gun, and he shifts so he is angled in its direction.
“Why are you always carrying that thing?”
“What thing?”
“That Uzi.”
Yossi holds up the weapon with one hand and regards it with a glazed-over expression.
“It’s not like you’re on duty or anything,” Raphael says.
Yossi takes a drag on his cigarette and looks at him. “It makes me feel safe. In control.”
“You mean like a security blanket?”
“Something like that, I guess.”
“You don’t feel safe now?”
Yossi shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m feeling a bit edgy all of a sudden.”
“Oh.”
“You can never fully relax when you’re on active duty. Even when you’re given time off to recharge, it can end in any second.” He shakes his head. “Like when those jets flew past earlier. I couldn’t help thinking there might be a call-up.”
“That’s a bummer.”
Yossi barks a short laugh. “It’s not all bad. There are good things too, like the camaraderie, gaining confidence when facing danger, learning to defend yourself, feeling like you’re a part of something larger. You’ll see.”
He holds out the weapon.
Raphael raises his hands. “No thanks.”
“Go ahead, gever. I’ll show you how to hold it.”
“Seriously, no. That’s not the kind of gun I like to play with.”
“You’re going to have to carry one of these next year when you’re called up.”
“I can wait.”
“Take it.” Yossi’s voice takes on an edge that surprises Raphael. They stare at each other across the machine gun. Yossi’s eyes are wide; his jaw is pulsating.
Raphael grabs the machine gun from Yossi, feeling the heat of anger coursing into his face. “Is that why we came here, achi? So you could bully me into playing soldier?” He turns the weapon over in his hands,
finding it much heavier than he imagined. Then he places the butt against his shoulder and aims it into the darkness, his finger twitching on the trigger. “Is this what you want me to do?”
“Easy, there.” Yossi takes the weapon out of Raphael’s hands and places it back on the wall.
Raphael casts a sidelong glance at Yossi. “That wasn’t cool.”
“Sorry.” Yossi taps out another cigarette and places it between his lips without lighting it. “Don’t know what came over me.”
They stay quiet for a while. Yossi looks up at the sky, his eyes shining in the starlight, and Raphael stares at his feet dangling over the edge, still hurt at the sudden change in Yossi’s manner, and growing angrier at himself for even caring.
Yossi hops off the wall. “I’ll be right back,” he says, moving to the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Raphael asks.
“I’ve got to pee,” Yossi says as he disappears into the stairwell.
A light wind sweeps across the desert. It whispers through the leaves of the acacias, causing the scrub brush to tremble and the shadows on the desert floor to shift. In the distance, a series of high-pitched, staccato hee-hee-hee cries from a pack of hyenas echoes off the walls of the makhtesh. Raphael freezes and peers into the darkness. As the sound dies away, he exhales and glances around him. His eye comes to rest on the Uzi that Yossi left on the ledge, and his chest goes tight at the memory of Yossi pressuring him to hold it. He tries to pry his eyes away, to force himself to look back at the desert, but the machine gun holds his gaze. An all-too familiar urge possesses him, and he watches with fear and elation as his hand moves toward the weapon and hefts it aloft. His heart pounds as his fingers play over the metal and come to rest on the pistol grip. Then with a quick backwards glance, he removes the magazine and empties it of its bullets.
When Yossi returns a few minutes later, he finds Raphael leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette.
“What took you?” Raphael asks.
“I went back to the camp and brought a couple of night vision binoculars.”
He climbs back up on the wall and pats the place next to him. “Come up here.”
Raphael flicks away his last Marlboro and sits next to Yossi, holding his arms tight across his chest.
“Listen,” Yossi says, “I’m sorry about earlier. What do you say we reset?” He puts his arm around Raphael’s neck and pulls him close, rubbing his cheek against his head. The remnants of Raphael’s anger immediately evaporate. He kisses Yossi on the cheek and is pleased that Yossi accepts the gesture without pulling away or flinching.
Yossi releases Raphael and extends his hand. “Friends again?”
“Friends again,” echoes Raphael, nervously feeling the rattle of the bullets in his jacket pocket against his flank and hoping for an opportunity to return them to the magazine as soon as possible. He takes Yossi’s hand and kisses the back of it. Yossi pulls it back and grins at his cousin.
Yossi hands Raphael a pair of binoculars and spends the next half hour explaining to Raphael all about how the makhtesh was formed and pointing out the different plants and nocturnal animals that call it home. He shares with Raphael how he stumbled on the ruins of the caravanserai and the spring three years ago during one of his hikes and how this place soon became his sanctuary.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he concludes. “Consider yourself special.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Raphael looks at his watch and marks 10 p.m., keen to get back to the tent. “I could never be out here alone.”
“No?”
Raphael shakes his head. “I’d find it way too scary, in the middle of nowhere, with snakes all around, completely vulnerable.” He stares for a few moments into the void below and kicks his feet against the side of the tower. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like being here with you.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Yossi points his cigarette heavenward. “But just look up there, achi. It’s practically dripping starlight. Where have you ever seen anything as beautiful as that? Doesn’t being out here makes you feel like one of the Patriarchs?”
“Right,” Raphael says. “All we need is a burning bush.”
Yossi smirks and takes another drag on his cigarette, its end glowing angrily in the darkness. “Or a pillar of fire.”
“Or two million whingeing Israelites.”
“OK, enough,” Yossi says, swinging around and hopping off the wall. “How about if we get back to the camp? I’m absolutely knackered.” He grabs his machine gun and starts for the stairs.
By the time they reach the camp, the temperature has dropped to ten degrees. Raphael stands shivering in the dark while Yossi arranges their things inside the tent. A few minutes later Yossi pokes his head out and beckons Raphael inside. As Raphael crawls in, he sees a fluorescent camp light set up in one corner of the tent, which is large enough for two people to sit inside without bumping their heads against the top, and wide enough for two people to sleep side by side, with about a foot of clearance on either side. The sleeping bags are zipped together.
What’s up with this?” Raphael tugs at the unified bags and flashes a crooked smile.
“We’re going to have to sleep together.” Yossi peels off his T-shirt and blue jeans and places them to one side, remaining dressed in a pair of tight khaki briefs. “We’ll keep each other warm by combining our body heat. Warmer than if we each sleep in individual sleeping bags, I mean.”
“That’s fine by me,” Raphael says, stripping to his underpants and arranging his clothes in the opposite corner.
Yossi slides into the bag, and Raphael follows him inside. Yossi then zips it closed, pulling the top flap over them. He directs Raphael to face away from him, then wraps his arms around him and pulls him against his chest. Raphael’s heart thumps hard at the sensation of Yossi’s half-naked body pressed against his back.
“Everything all right?” Yossi asks in a low voice, his lips brushing against Raphael’s neck.
“Everything’s perfect,” Raphael says, backing into Yossi and playfully grinding against him.
“Don’t do that, please.”
Raphael flips around to face Yossi. “You’re still wearing your underpants,” he says.
“What about it?”
“You said you always sleep in the nude.”
“Normally, yes. But right now wouldn’t be appropriate, would it?”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.”
“But, I do.”
“I’ll take mine off, too.” Raphael reaches down; Yossi’s hand shoots out and pulls it back up by the wrist.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“You’re hard.”
“So are you.”
“We’re not going to have sex, achi. I thought I was clear about that.”
Yossi gently pulls Raphael’s hand up and drapes his arm over his shoulder.
“I don’t get it,” Raphael says. “You bring me out here to the middle of nowhere, nobody around for miles, get into the same sleeping bag as me, hold me against your body after I confess that I love to have sex—with guys—and knowing perfectly well that I like you. And you don’t have any intention of having sex with me?”
“That’s right. We’re not going to have sex. You need to learn not to sexualise all your relationships. You can start now.”
Raphael stares at Yossi, wide-eyed, hardly believing what he is hearing.
“Can I at least hold you?”
Yossi shrugs. “Sure.”
Raphael shakes his head and hugs Yossi close, burying his head against his neck, and Yossi returns the hug. The scent of his cousin’s skin makes Raphael tremble and his eyes well up. They hold each other for a few quiet moments.
Raphael lifts his head and stares into his cousin’s eyes, noticing that Yossi’s eyes are moist. He kisses Yossi on the neck and peers again into Yossi’s eyes, finding no hint of resistance. He passes his hand through Yossi’s hair and presses his lips against
his forehead, then slides down and kisses his cheek again and again. Then he releases Yossi and puts one hand on either side of his face and brings his mouth toward Yossi’s mouth.
“No, achi,” Yossi whispers, “not that.”
“Please, Yossi,” Raphael says, his hands still grasping his cousin’s face. “Please let me kiss you. Just that.”
“I’m sorry, achi.”
“Why not? If it’s like you said, if there aren’t any rules, if nothing means anything, then what harm will it do? Nobody will know, except us.”
“I can’t.”
“But, I—” Raphael lets go of Yossi’s face and breaks out in tears. “Don’t make me say it, achi, please.”
Yossi pulls up Raphael’s face by the chin. “What is it?”
Raphael shakes his head. “Just one kiss, Yossi, please. Then we can go to sleep. I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. I promise.”
“But, why?”
“Because I fucking love you, you goddamned motherfucker. That’s why.”
Raphael explodes out of the sleeping bag and rushes out of the tent. Yossi pulls on his clothes and his boots, grabs a coat, and chases after him. He finds him curled up on the front seat of the car, sobbing.
“Leave me alone,” Raphael screams as Yossi opens the door. “I begged you not to make me say it, but you had to push me, didn’t you? You just had to push me.”
“Come back to the tent, achi.”
“No way, I’m not going back there with you. Just bring me my sleeping bag. I’ll sleep in here.”
“Come on, achi. Let me explain.”
Raphael sits up and glowers at Yossi. “If you have anything to explain, do it now. But I’m not going back to the tent.”
Yossi climbs into the car and sits next to Raphael, who scrambles away and huddles against the opposite door. Yossi drums his fingers on the dashboard for a few seconds, then looks at Raphael.
“I have a girlfriend. That’s why I can’t let you kiss me on the mouth. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” Raphael spits out. “I never heard anything about that. As far as everyone is concerned, you’re as asexual as an earthworm.” He kicks at Yossi’s crotch with his bare foot. “But we know better, don’t we?” A bitter laugh escapes his lips.
The Death of Baseball Page 25