by Niv Kaplan
"Well if it isn't young Abe Dotan. You look and smell almost like the way I feel each morning," said one of the old ladies in Hebrew and the rest joined her in laughter.
"This is no way to approach the young lady Mikki," said another to the sound of more laughter. Mikki felt his face flush. He was taken by surprise and was about to fire some degrading-old-lady remark, when Karen spoke.
"Rough morning, Mikki?" she gently asked.
"Not as rough as I am about to get with these old witches," he grunted in English.
"Calm down Mikki. They're harmless."
Mikki strained to stay calm. He gave the old ladies a threatening stare and addressed Karen. "Could we step outside for a moment, I need to talk to you."
Karen got up.
"Let's make it a very long moment," she said, squinting her eyes toward the pile of onions.
He got the message.
"I need her for a few minutes," he said, addressing the group in Hebrew.
"She is not done with her onions!" protested the group leader.
"Listen," Mikki snapped, "this is a serious matter. We need to get to the secretary's office."
"At six in the morning?"
They were silent for a moment, staring at one another.
He put on a disturbed look and spoke very softly. They all leaned closer.
"Ladies, her sister called from America asking to speak to her urgently. I have no idea what this about but it sounds serious! She'll be back in a few minutes."
They were all suddenly silent, looking at one another.
Mikki seized the moment. He grabbed Karen's arm and they both disappeared through the back door before the ladies could recover.
"What did you tell them?" Karen asked as they were stumbling out. "They seemed to go into shock."
"Oh, I gave them a few ideas to gossip about."
"What ideas?" she asked, giggling.
"Oh, I told them your sister called from the US asking to talk to you urgently."
"You what!"
"Not to worry, the story will keep them speculating long enough to finish peeling the damn onions."
Karen giggled.
"By the time lunch comes around," Mikki explained, "they’ll have developed a host of theories…"
"But Lisa didn't really call…"
"It doesn't matter, Karen. Once these ladies get their hands on a story, it snowballs from them to everyone else. Each person gives the basic version with a little twist and by the time it goes back full circle, you may hear that you are on a plane back home."
Karen had to lean against the wall to keep from falling, laughing lightheartedly.
Mikki was enjoying the moment. He was happy he could make her laugh. He watched her as she calmed down. Even in simple work clothes she was beautiful.
He felt it was the right moment. "I miss you," he said simply.
She quickly sobered up. They were standing outside the main kitchen at the crest of the hill facing east, the entire kibbutz below them. From their vantage point they could see the sun rise over the Golan Heights. It was creeping its way up seemingly caressing the mountain range. She looked at him.
"Why did you wait so long?" she asked.
"I thought you weren't interested. I thought something turned you off that night," he professed, the words gushing out, relieving the pressure he felt for so long. "Over the last three weeks I wanted to tell you so many things…"
He felt uneasy again and tried to avoid her gaze, staring down at the floor. She moved away from the wall and stood closer to him.
"Mikki," she spoke in a sweet, low voice, almost a whisper. He looked up. "I keep waiting for you to show up but you seem so distant, always hanging around with your buddies. It's as though you keep them around for protection."
"Karen I swear to you, the only thing on my mind since that night was when are we gonna do it again…"
"Do what again?" She grinned.
"Um... ah, talk of course. That's all we did, wasn’t it? Did I miss something?"
She was laughing again, enjoying his discomfort.
"I think we missed a lot in the last three weeks," she said, serious again.
Mikki felt elated. He wanted to seize her, hug her, kiss her, and love her. Instead, he let out a sigh and smiled.
"Would you join me and my family for dinner tonight?" he asked.
"I'd love that, Mikki."
"Would you like me to come pick you up?"
"No need. Let's meet here. At what time do you normally eat?"
"Seven o'clock sharp or my dad will flip!"
"What should I wear?" she asked, a smile forming on her lips.
"It won't matter to me."
"Even in this?" she inquired, acting surprised.
Mikki didn't answer. He just stood there, looking her over.
She had her back against the kitchen wall and was barefoot, wearing shorts and a large blue work shirt. Her legs were tanned, slender and her unblemished figure hid under the shirt with the two top buttons open, revealing just enough of her breasts to make him ache.
He lowered his gaze and moved a step closer. He could smell her scent. Her breathing was suddenly heavy. He moved in another step and met her eyes. She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth. He kissed her back. Their tongues met. He felt her body tense. She gasped and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing his head to her chest.
They stood motionless for a while, holding on to one another. When they finally separated and looked at each other, there was nothing more they could add with words.
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Shabbat dinners were special.
The main dining hall tables were set with white tablecloth, flowers, shining silverware, and Shabbat candles. A festive event that took place every Friday, it was the one evening of the week where families gathered together in observance of the seventh day, the day of rest.
Everyone looked their best. It was a time to show off new outfits, greet old friends, get updated on family matters, and gossip.
Chicken soup, pickles, Hala bread, and white rice, were found on each table, while the main dishes of meatballs, chicken, or fish, were served from special carts, similar to those found on airplanes, which would go around the dining hall, manned by the weekly attendants.
With the dining hall too small to contain all the kibbutz members, they typically ate in three shifts. The Dotan family always ate on the second shift. Abe would come in at five minutes to seven and wait for the first shift to leave. Once a table was freed, he would seize it and wait for the others to show up. He would become extremely upset if they were late. Reena and Mikki's sister, Daphna, would come in together on time. Mikki and his brother, David, were consistently late.
But on this particular Friday night, everyone showed up on time delighted to finally meet Karen. She was all Mikki talked about.
After the introductions and small talk, they each ordered a dish and began to interrogate her in lame English. Mikki looked at the three sitting across. He was very close to his brother who was two years his junior. David idolized Mikki and it was always tempting to take advantage, but Mikki mostly respected his brother and encouraged him to pursue his own convictions. Two inches shorter than Mikki, he had curly dark hair and brown eyes, a spitting image of their dad, very athletic and extremely sharp; a straight A student who barely looked at his homework. He, of course, preferred hanging around Mikki and his friends. The older crowd seemed more interesting. At times Mikki would have to bluntly get rid of him, but more often than not, he liked having him around.
Mikki's sister Daphna was ten. The baby in the family, they were all very protective of her. She was tall for her age with brown curly hair, large green eyes, and delicate features, much like her mother's.
Mikki was pleased. Karen looked as though she would fit in. She looked stunning in her red mini dress. She had put on some makeup and wore beautiful diamond earrings. Her lips were full and red, and her smile as seductive as ever. They were all ta
lking to her at the same time and despite their lame English managed to ask the most personal questions, which she, very gracefully avoided.
Mikki thought back to the morning. He was suddenly engulfed by an eagerness to get to know her. He wanted to learn her secrets and share his secrets with her. At that moment, he wanted to be with her forever.
“Has Mikki showed you around?" he heard his father ask.
"We haven't had time..." she started answering, looking at Mikki for support.
"If you lend me your car, I can show her the Valley and Golan Heights, Dad," Mikki interjected.
"Mikki, you know I'm not supposed to…"
"I know dad, but I'd like to take Karen out for a tour the Saturday after next. It's her birthday and the end of school for me."
Abe Dotan was the kibbutz's treasurer. As one of the top three administrative positions, the job description included a car which called for the treasurer to make his car available to the general public once he was done with work. He was not supposed to give priority to anyone that did not pass the routine procedures for requesting a car.
But as always, rules were meant to be broken.
Mikki had used the car on several occasions and he knew that if he pressed hard enough he would have it, so he let the matter drop. There was plenty of time.
"Mikki, are you and Karen comes over for dessert?" his mother asked as the attendants began clearing their table for the third shift.
Mikki caught Karen's eye.
"I think we'll pass this time Mom," he said apologetically, "we've got some plans."
"Would you like to elaborate on these plans Mikki?" David asked in Hebrew, a huge grin on his face.
"Did you hear that Karen?" Mikki said in English, drawing her attention. "David here wants me to tell him about our plans for tonight."
David turned red and looked away. Karen smiled and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. The rest burst out laughing.
They left the dining hall in a cheerful mood, walking around for a while with no particular destination in mind, enjoying each other's company. They greeted friends who passed by, gossiped about the latest breaking stories they picked up at the Friday dinner, and stopped every few minutes to snuggle and kiss.
"Shall we go to the party tonight?" Karen asked, gently slipping out of his embrace in a dark corner they had paused.
Mikki looked at her thoughtfully. The volunteer night club had a party every Friday night. "The only reason I ever go to these parties is to find someone like you," he reasoned. "Now that I've found you, there is no reason to go."
"I love a good party Mikki. Let's go there, dance a bit, and drink a little…"
"Maybe later; let’s go to my room first. We can talk…"
She smiled and moved closer, hugging his shoulders, speaking softly. "We talked enough already, don’t you think?"
Seconds later they headed for his room.
It was a long fifteen minutes before he could get his room in decent shape to allow her in. Karen sat on the balcony watching him, amused at his efforts as if whatever was going to happen between them depended on it. But she kept silent, allowing him to go on. It was nice to have someone trying so hard to please her. She felt tender warmth beginning to spread along her body, down between her legs.
Breathless, he invited her in. The thin mattress on the narrow bed was hastily arranged with a graying bed sheet, a white quilt and a coverless pillow. The night lamp sent a weak ray of light towards his side of the room as if illuminating an arena where an event was going to take place, leaving the rest of the room in darkness.
“Bathroom?” Karen asked softly, escalating his discomfort.
“Better not…” he started apologizing, but she had already shut the door behind her, giggling to herself.
When she came out, she found him sitting on his bed, his back to the wall, fiddling around with an old radio. She sat next to him. Strange clatters and squeaks came out of the radio until he managed to produce some adequate sounds. He gave her a questioning look and after she gave him an encouraging smile, mustered his courage to bring his lips to her face. She responded gently and their lips met with passion. They lay on his bed and caressed one another, exploring new worlds. The bed creaked and the old radio fell on the floor with a bang, but they heard nothing but their beating hearts as they undressed one another, fingers touching bare skin with anticipation and lust.
Time ceased to exist. There was no one but them in the world.
CHAPTER 3
The phone at the Glass residence in Westlake Village rang several times before Martha managed to reach it. She was in the shower when it rang and had to quickly wrap herself with a towel and rush out to the bedroom.
"Hello, this is Martha," she spoke, short of breath.
"Will you accept a collect call from a Karen?" She heard the operator's monotone voice.
"Oh, yes, yes, put her through."
"Thank you, Ma’am," the operator clicked off.
"Hi mom." She heard her daughter's distant voice.
"Is that you, Karen?"
"Yes, Mom. Can you hear me?"
"Just barely honey. Is everything OK? Speak up a little."
"Everything is fine mom. It's my birthday."
"I know dear. Your dad and I were planning to call you tomorrow."
"Mom, we are ten hours ahead here."
It was Friday, May 25, 1984. Karen was using the kibbutz's only public phone, hunched over the receiver in the small, cramped booth, trying to sound calmer than she felt. She was eighteen now and it was the first birthday she had ever celebrated without her parents.
"Happy eighteenth, dear! How have you been? We haven't spoken in over a month."
"I couldn't ask for anything better, mom. This is pure heaven."
"What are you up to? What are your plans?"
"I have no plans, mom. I'm enjoying this a day at a time."
"Your dad isn't home yet," Martha said sounding disappointed.
"I didn't think he would be." They were silent for a few seconds.
"Are you OK, Mom?"
"I'm fine, dear…"
Karen wasn't convinced but she let it go. No point wasting valuable phone time over matters that were out of her control. It was her birthday, her life. She wanted to make the most of it.
"Are you doing anything special today?" she heard her mother ask.
"They're throwing me a surprise party tonight, which I'm not supposed to know about, but nobody can keep a secret around here."
"You sound very happy."
"Oh, I am...Mom! Very, very happy. I wish I could stay longer."
There was silence again.
"I miss you dear, more than you can ever imagine. The house is empty. Your dad works long hours. Lisa is away…"
"How is she doing? Where is she?"
"Your sister went with some friends to the house in Mammoth. They'll stay there for a couple of weeks. I think she has someone but she wouldn't talk about it."
Karen loved the house in Mammoth. Much of their spare time was spent there since her father purchased it five years ago. Most summers were spent fishing and hiking. Winters were spent skiing. On occasion, she and Lisa would take some friends along to spend the weekend away from the parents. It was everybody's favorite getaway.
"She hasn't replied to any of my letters," Karen complained.
"She's very busy with friends from university now. I hardly see her."
"I understand but ask her to write. I have lots to tell her and please check what's with my room at the dorms. OK Mom?"
"I'll check honey. Tell me what are your plans? You should be leaving Israel in less than a month."
"This Saturday I'm going for a tour of the area. Next week I'll be in Tel Aviv for a few days. I'll be leaving for Greece a week after that."
"Do you have enough money? Do you need anything?"
"So far I've hardly spent any money. The kibbutz has everything. It's great here, Mom!"
"I'm happy
to hear…"
"Gotta go, Mom. Say hi to Dad and Lisa. I'll call before I leave for Greece."
"Happy birthday honey, take care of yourself. And try to write to me as well…"
"Bye Mom…"
The phone went dead.
Martha held it a while longer then slowly put it back in its cradle. She sat for a while feeling empty, looking at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She brushed her hair aside and studied her body, thinking of days gone by. She had been quite a catch in her prime. Paul had courted her for years before she finally succumbed. For a while, she thought she had it all: a successful marriage with an ambitious husband and money to burn. She hadn't worked a day in her life, always financially secure, coming from a wealthy family and marrying a successful businessman.
In the early years it seemed like an everlasting honeymoon. There were luncheons, parties, shopping, romantic dinners, late evening strolls, and morning lovemaking. Paul would always make an effort to spend time with her. He would cancel meetings and take the red eye, just to spend the night. If he was away for more than a few days, he would fly her to wherever he was. Money was no object; romance was everything. She took it all for granted and would have it no other way.
Then Lisa was born.
It was the little things at first. He would work longer hours and call home less frequently. They had fewer lunches together; fewer dinners; fewer parties and she found herself spending more and more time alone.
The honeymoon was over. Reality had set in. Martha, busy raising Lisa, did her best to accept her new role but Paul would not deal with the change. He drifted away. She confronted him a few times but he always managed to use his work as an excuse. She knew he had his reasons. Growing up an only child, he had received all the attention. Life revolved around his needs and he wasn't ready to share her with another person. The triangle that life created had a missing link. When he'd make an effort to spend time with Lisa, it was forced and unemotional. He wasn't there for her. He was there because it was expected and the less it was expected, the less he got involved.
The bedroom door swung open.
Martha did not flinch. She did not turn her head, seeing his reflection in the mirror. He stood there for a moment looking dreadful; his eyes bloodshot, his tie loosened around his neck; his suit wrinkled. His gray hair was unkempt and he needed a shave. He was overworked and stressed to the point where only painkillers could relieve his aching back and he had developed a nervous twitch in his right eye which was noticeable when he was tired.