by Naomi Litvin
Back at my place I called the police so that if anyone was watching they’d see the police car. The police came, and I told the officers I thought the perpetrator was stalking me. I asked if they would circle my place during the night, just in case I was followed. They agreed, and assured me that they would be nearby if I needed them. I iced my bruises which were mostly on my neck.
I phoned Millie to tell her what had happened and she started back peddling about her friendship with Tajir. She explained that she didn’t really know him, had met him in a bar, and only asked for a favor because he was part German and lived in Haifa. She adamantly advised me to keep my door locked and said if she heard from him she would call the police.
“I am so very sorry that I got you involved with Tajir. I can’t imagine why he came after you like that. I should have never involved someone that I met in a bar. Please come to live with me Natasha, I promise that Tajir will never bother you again!”
I wanted so badly to move to Tel Aviv that I made myself believe what Millie was saying. So I kept busy packing, and making arrangements for a mover to get my things to the new place in Tel Aviv. But the next day was Yom HaZikaron, Israel Memorial Day and no one was working, so I couldn’t go yet.
The movers would come in two days because the next day after Memorial Day was Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel Independence Day. I put a can of bug spray and a big kitchen knife by the door, just in case.
Perhaps it was the German Arab who had been in my place messing with my laptop. But it was too overwhelming and I had to let it go until the movers got me out of there.
I stayed up most of the night getting ready to move and then slept a few hours in the morning. That night I dreamt of cats. Undomesticated cats are everywhere in Israel living near the garbage and wherever kindly Israelis leave food out for them. They keep the rat population in control but no one limits the cat population, which is out of control.
In the dream I was back at the doctor’s office and Edna the receptionist was actually the doctor. I was in the exam room and she came in and several cats entered the room with her.
Edna said, “Take your clothes off, the cats will now examine you. They are not actually cats, they are reincarnated Palmach fighters, our boys that volunteered to go to Europe during World War II to fight Hitler.”
At that point the cats were not cats anymore, or Palmach fighters, either. They were men wearing SS uniforms, and they were all old. They encircled me on the examination table and all began to touch me at the same time. I realized I was tied down. I began to scream.
It was the next day. I threw some fruit and a thermos of water in my backpack and went out. I was frightened at the prospect of the German Arab finding me again but thought he was probably nursing his sore balls. I took a serrated kitchen knife, put it in a plastic container so I wouldn’t hurt myself, and threw it in my backpack.
I figured that the beach would be crowded and if I stayed out in the open I would be safe. I vowed to use the knife if I had to. It was a glorious day at the beach and I stayed for a long time.
I noticed a pattern of the beach goers on a chag, a holiday. This was a solemn day, Memorial Day, Yom HaZikaron, but people still went to the beach and when the siren wailed for two minutes, along with the rest of Israel, everything stopped, including traffic and trains.
It seemed to me that first the Israelis arrived early and then left as those of Russian descent arrived mid-day and then left. After that, the Arabs arrived in late afternoon. I decided to leave when I saw the Arabs coming. I would go back to Gid’on Street for my last night in Haifa.
Memorial Day is followed by an intensely happy day, Independence Day. Yom Ha’atzmaut began at sundown and the fireworks would be visible from the roof of my place.
I was on edge and drank a few beers. I wished that there was someone I could call for company and protection. But there was no one. And of course, I had no one to blame but myself. I cherished my own company more than that of friends. And so the perks of companionship were not available to me. I thought about changing that once I moved to Tel Aviv. It was time to make friends.
I was packed and ready to go, but had this last holiday night in the stone cottage in Haifa, then on to my new life in Tel Aviv. I locked all the windows and moved the kitchen table against the front door. If Tajir came for me it would not protect me, but it would cause some noise and might work as a warning. I planned to jump out of the back window if he tried to get in.
After sleeping fitfully, I got up early and was sweeping the floor before the movers arrived and noticed a cigarette butt that had been stuck in a crack between the wall and the floor. I bent down to pull it out and saw that it was a Marlboro.
PART TWO
TEL AVIV
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On my first night in the flat on Dizengoff Square I thought about Millie’s instructions to me about her privacy. She had warned me to stay out of her room when she was not there. She would be traveling the world as a flight attendant and gone several days at a time but would not tell me when she was going and coming back to Tel Aviv.
I was not, under any circumstances, to use the deadbolt on the door, in case she were to come home unexpectedly. It could be that she had plans for me, I suspected, as my spine tingled.
I had planned on asking Millie to translate the old German document that Mother had given me about The Masada Faktor but I had a troubling sensation that it was not a good idea. I would hold onto it until I could find someone trustworthy.
Of course, my curiosity couldn’t keep me out of her room. It was completely furnished by IKEA and I didn’t see anything personal. Not even a photo. Oh hell, there was nothing to see. So what if there was some odd connection between her grandfather and Mother. It was another coincidence and actually a stroke of good luck for me, at last. I made sure to slide the deadbolt into place despite her order.
I had paid Millie Stone 8,400 shekel for two months’ rent in advance. This was my third move in two months in Israel. I wasn’t about to let that uptight Yekke ruin my good times in Tel Aviv. Trying to control my imagination has always been a challenge for me. Regardless, she wasn’t there, so I decided to shower, change clothes, and go out on the town.
I was in the mood for a cocktail which I could get at a neighborhood joint called Bukowski Bar, handily located nearby on Frishman Street, close to the beach. I had just ordered a dry vodka Martini straight up with a twist of lemon when Millie appeared standing next to me at the bar. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Millie! I thought you were out of town on assignment with your airline job?” I couldn’t help but smile, as at that moment all was right with the world.
“The flight was canceled due to weather in the Far East and the flight turned around to come back. As I was getting out of the taxi, I saw you walking. I dropped my suitcase at the bar downstairs. I wanted to catch up to you.” Millie was speaking entirely too fast.
“Would you like to join me in a Martini? I will buy you a drink.” What the hell, I thought, We can do some bonding.
“Yes, I will. But I would like a Cosmopolitan, thank you. I wanted to get to know you a bit more.” Millie’s eyes were again darting around the room. “I expect that you have some questions for me.”
“Well, yes. I want to know why you are in Israel. Why did you make Aliyah? You don’t seem so dedicated to the Zionist cause, no offense.” I kept my voice casual.
Millie’s drink was served. We toasted to our new association as roommates. And then she began to tell me her story. “My mother is Jewish and she married an Israeli. Although my grandfather was German he had married a Jewish woman but some people thought that he had been a Nazi. He wasn’t! He was a good man who had to do service in the German Army or be killed. So he did what he had to do.”
“So he was just following orders.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“When he married my grandmother he denounced all of that.” Millie protested adamantly. “My father did not
know about my grandfather’s history until after my parents married. And my father did not believe him. He could not get over that he had married a woman with a German Army father.”
Millie’s drink was empty and I signaled the bartender to order another round.
“My parents divorced when I was five. But I went to visit my father in Israel every summer.”
“Did you enjoy that?” I probed a little bit, hoping she would open up further.
“He was a mean son of a bitch. I hated him. He left us in Germany for another woman and had children with her.” Millie was checking her phone and stopped talking to send a text message.
“Does your father know you are here?” I had a feeling that he didn’t.
“No, he absolutely does not! Neither does my mother. Both of them do not want me here. And I don’t want them to know. He is a bastard and she is a crazy whore. I wish they were both dead.”
It was time to change the subject. “Millie, check out that gorgeous guy over there,” I started pointing out the hot guys in the bar. On that subject we could surely agree.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I enrolled in Ulpan Gordon in order to get some socialization in. It gave me something to get out of bed for and the location was close to my place. The instructor was certifiably cracked. Really, I was thinking that being insane may be a prerequisite of being an Ulpan teacher. No matter, I was getting used to that scenario. It was best to keep out of her radar, because if you made eye contact with her, you became the center of her attention on that morning in class.
I was centrally located now to all that I cared about: The beach and Sea, Gordon Pool, Dizengoff Center, Ulpan, and the Shuk. There was also a synagogue in each neighborhood if I chose to attend. All of Tel Aviv was my playground and I thanked God day and night for bringing me there. Every day was an adventure.
My room had a gigantic window that overlooked Dizengoff Square. I had been collecting crystal prism balls that I found at the Jaffa flea market and started hanging them from the top of the window so I’d have rainbows everywhere when the sun shone in. I also decorated the room with stuff I bought on Shenkin Street and at the Shuk.
I had bought an expensive, nice bed in Haifa after the air bed and brought it to Tel Aviv. I set up my kumkum in my room so I could make my coffee without going into the kitchen to minimize contact with Millie.
There was a lively antique and flea market set up in the square below the fountain, which took place on Tuesdays and Fridays. Immediately across the street was a cinema. Next to that was the Kabbalah Centre. I was feeling like a happy camper.
Millie came home a few times during the week and she was a royal pain in the ass. Certain things bothered her, or I should say, certain things that I did bothered her. If she found as much as a piece of lettuce in the sink she would come into my room to ask why I had left something in the drain.
I started locking my door from the inside when she was home. She was unhappy with that. She had forbidden me to use the downstairs bathroom, except for the shower, and I was having to climb stairs to get to a toilet. One time she came home and asked if I had used hers, as she was sure she left the seat up.
One day I accidentally knocked one of her many refrigerator magnets from her world travels off the refrigerator door. It broke. You’d have thought I murdered her first born. I offered to glue it back together or pay for it, but nothing would satisfy her.
She seemed so typically German: stubborn and argumentative, thorough, and orderly to a point that I did not want to even have a conversation with her. She was also quite loyal to Germany as she didn’t stop talking about the great music scene in Berlin and how much fun it was there.
Why was Millie in Israel? Did she really want to see her parents dead? She was completely paranoid about her privacy and warned me not to mention her on social media. Don’t worry, I thought. It would be my pleasure to never mention her.
It was almost as if, in the event that I should disappear, there would be no record of me living with her. But maybe it wasn’t about me, it could have been about her father. I was aggravated but not that concerned as I fell into a pattern of Ulpan, new friends, and exploration. I was happy.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I was still active on social media sites, especially Twitter. There was a new person named Absalom who followed me and I reciprocated by following him back. He began to send direct messages both on Twitter and Facebook which normally I do not like to receive from strangers. I don’t know why but I felt okay with allowing his correspondence to me in private.
Absalom was interested in what I had tweeted regarding my life in Israel, and very helpful, but from the beginning I sensed sexual innuendo. I was throwing caution to the wind in many areas of my life so I let it slide.
It was quite unexpected the way my Twitter connection with Absalom was evolving. He had been so sweet and responsive to my questions about living in Israel, as he said he was also living in Israel. I can remember at what point exactly that his private tweets became blatantly sexual. It started out with a discussion about why a certain guy on Twitter wouldn’t tweet to me.
Natasha: “… and by the way the reason he doesn’t tweet to me is because he thinks I would get off on it. And he is punishing me by not tweeting.”
Absalom: “Do you? It would be good to know how to talk dirty to you. Some verbal foreplay.”
Natasha: “No, any response from him is not a turn-on, more the opposite.”
Absalom: “I miss you when we don’t chat for a day or so. Oh by the way, your other friend has a mini pini.”
Natasha: “What is that?”
Absalom: “Tiny penis. But I am not afflicted by that.”
Natasha: “I see, said the blind man.”
Absalom: “Blindness doesn’t affect my sense of touch. Or yours. You are one good looking lady, as I have noticed from your Twitter pics.”
Natasha: “Older women okay with you?”
Absalom: “Hell yeah. I am very attracted. I prefer mature, older women. How are you with younger men?”
Natasha: “In a fantasy world, I do like younger men.”
Absalom: “Mutual feelings, mutual fantasy.”
At that point I changed the subject. I would change the subject a lot when his comments became shockingly sexual.
Eventually, I didn’t change the subject. It was perverted. I felt responsible for allowing it. I should have ended it. Instead, I encouraged it and lied to myself as to why. I was hooked.
After some time he told me he had a message for me concerning my mission in Israel. I thought about that, as yes, I had said a lot of things on Twitter but I knew that I never spoke about The Masada Faktor and wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
At that time, The Masada Faktor was in the back of my mind as I was too busy enjoying Tel Aviv. There was no way he could be involved in The Masada Faktor, could he? I doubted that, it was just too obscure.
But then Absalom said that I must go to Masada and specifically named five locations that I must see to search for clues to my mission. I asked him where he got his information but he replied that it was a reliable source and it was important.
I was alarmed at that point since he actually named Masada as where I should be going. Then, as I didn’t want the cybersex to end, I told myself that Absalom knew something about The Masada Faktor and I had to do what was required to get the information. The truth? I was aroused by his attention and sexuality which felt very real. And I didn’t want it to end.
Sometimes he acted like a good friend. We’d chat about laundry or learning Hebrew. I had the distinct feeling there were at least two people involved in this Absalom character. It was because of the difference between when he was being a friend and when he was sexual.
I asked him if he knew anyone from Haifa and he said no. At one point I unfollowed him so that he could not direct message me, which was a requirement on Twitter. But then I followed him again.
It had become my compulsion. He abs
olutely refused to tell me who he was. I was taking a huge risk that would come back to bite me. And I didn’t care.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It had been a blistering, hot, and humid day in Tel Aviv. It cooled off as the sun began to set but the Sea was warm, so warm that people were still in the water after Shabbat began.
The beach was full of Filipinas with their families. They are the care takers of a large percentage of the Israeli elder population, their work permits registered under their patient’s name. When their patient dies, their work permit becomes invalid. They are usually off on Shabbat when the elders’ families come for their loved ones.
Walking north along the beach, I stopped to turn around to see Jaffa in the distance and that beautiful clock tower lit up like a beacon against the cloudy sky. The sand beneath my feet was warm in contrast to the sudden coolness of the breeze that only an hour ago chafed my skin with its searing heat.