Missing

by Adiva Geffen

  Daria didn’t answer.

  I shrugged, climbed behind the wheel, and took off.

  Sammy was celebrating her accomplishment. “Daria, all you need to do is calm your parents down. If you were my daughter—”

  “Sammy, look at her, she’s shaking,” I interrupted when I saw Daria’s face in the mirror.

  Sammy gave me a look that screamed Don’t stick your big nose into their mess, and then she turned to Daria. “Wipe that funeral-friendly expression off your face. A few hours from now, this will all be behind you. You’ll meet with your mom, explain yourself, and then you can get back to the excitement of feeding Old Man Jonah.”

  “My mother…” The words came out through clenched teeth. “I hope they paid you well for serving them my head on a platter.”

  “Eve is my friend,” Sammy said. “We went to school together. I did it for the both of you. Family disputes should be settled face to face.”

  I looked at Daria, her pale face composed in utter tranquility. An almost deathlike tranquility. A disturbing tranquility. Was that an early sign? A harbinger of her jump into the hands of death? Hard to say. “What are you thinking about?” I asked her softly.

  “Them,” she answered. “I actually missed them. Strange, maybe I’m like a battered wife who misses her husband.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed.

  “You suffer from a torn meniscus, don’t you?” Daria suddenly asked.

  Sammy didn’t answer.

  “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?” she continued.

  “Yes,” Sammy agreed reluctantly.

  Daria reached out a hand and touched Sammy’s knee. “I can hear the pain,” she said tenderly.

  “Cut it out.” Sammy brushed off her hand.

  I know my boss. Sammy was trying to keep her distance, not wanting Daria’s compassion to touch her.

  But it was too late for me. I had already been touched by Daria, touched in all the places I thought I’d lost.

  “Careful, Shoshkowitz.” Sammy read my mind and came to the rescue. “Just get us to the office.” They’d finally fixed the elevator in our building, so we didn’t have to work out of Sammy’s house. While Sammy prepared coffee for the still and silent Daria, I went into the alcove that served as my office and fulfilled Sammy’s request to call Eve. She wasn’t available on her cell phone. There was no answer at the Herzliya house either, so I called their home in Yokneam.

  Moria answered and said Eve wasn’t available. She was “in the middle of something.”

  “It’s pretty urgent,” I said. “It’s about her daughter.”

  “Her daughter? Yes, I see, her daughter,” said Moria.

  “About Daria,” I emphasized, and she asked me to wait.

  I heard her talking on another phone, then she got back to me. “They tell me Eve has not finished her appointment yet. Please write down this telephone number and call her there.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Just call her, all right?”

  I dialed the number. A man answered and told me he would go get Eve.

  I heard footsteps. A door opened somewhere, then the sounds of singing. Silence again. A door closed. Footsteps. A thud. Then I heard Eve.

  “What’s going on?” She sounded very tense.

  “We found Daria,” I said evenly. “She’s here with us.” Eve remained silent. Was she shocked by our success? Couldn’t find the words to express her elation? Or was she just as scared as Daria? “When can you come to pick her up?”

  “Dear God, that’s good, that’s good…” Eve suddenly sounded excited. “You’ve no idea how happy we are. How is she? Where are you now?”

  “She’s fine, a little confused, maybe, but fine. She’s in our office. When do you think…?”

  She waited a moment then whispered, “We’ll…be there tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “We’re up north, in the middle of our most important annual convention. We can’t just send a hundred people away, can we? We’ll head back at the first light of dawn.”

  “I don’t think that’s a—”

  “I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for you to hold on to her for a few more hours, just for one night. She’s a good child. I’d really appreciate that, just for one night.”

  “Talk to Sammy.”

  “Keep my little one safe,” Eve continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “Don’t let any harm come to her. She’s not in harmony with herself. She’s not an easy girl.”

  “All right, Eve,” I said flatly. “Whatever you say.”

  “Thanks. And please, let me talk to her now.”

  I emerged from my office with my cell phone and went to Daria, who was sitting in Sammy’s office. I handed her the phone without saying a word. She took it and walked down to the end of the hall, eyes on the floor, listening. I could hear the echo of Eve’s commanding voice. Daria’s answers weren’t audible at all.

  “What’s up?” asked Sammy.

  “They’re not coming to pick her up until tomorrow,” I told Sammy. “I don’t get it. How come the overwrought mother doesn’t drop everything and come running to embrace her little daughter?”

  “Stop being everyone’s critic, Shoshkowitz — you’re pissing me off. And here’s another thing: You’re taking Daria home with you.”

  “Excuse me? You want her to spend the night at my place? I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t care what you think — you’re taking her.”

  “Sammy, Eve’s your friend. This case is your charity work, and Daria is your guest. And guess what? I just remembered it’s my book club night. And her mom told me Daria is allergic to cats. A single hair is enough to put her in the hospital—”

  “Send Chechnya to a cat kennel for all I care, and you haven’t read a single book since third grade.”

  “What about the two guys I invited over for some—”

  “Dikla, why do you always argue with me? You know you’ll end up doing what I tell you to, right? So just take her home. As far as I’m concerned, you can tie her to the refrigerator, hang her from the chandelier, whatever. And tomorrow, when Eve comes to get her, I’ll promote you to secondary detective.”

  “You promoted me to secondary detective last week.”

  “Super detective, then… You’ll get to name your own rank! Just keep her safe for me. Don’t let her out of your sight. Don’t even let her take a leak by herself. We don’t want anything to happen to her now.”

  “I don’t feel like babysitting a clinically depressed girl. If you think you can make me…” I started to lose control, then I saw her standing in the doorway. She looked like a lost little lamb. Filled with shame, I shot Sammy a fierce look that said Just you wait.

  “I’m sorry to be a burden,” Daria said in a voice so meek it made my stomach turn to jelly.

  “Not at all.” I waved my hand dismissively, brushing away all traces of our argument. “Sammy and I are always squabbling about something…just part of the office routine. You’re coming with me. It’ll be fun. No blue room and no lectures.”

  Not a single muscle moved on Daria’s face.

  “We’ll go to my place. Not exactly Buckingham Palace, but there’s no place like home. Tomorrow you’ll hold a peace conference with your mom and dad, and everything will be forgiven. Who knows? Maybe they’ll let you go back to Old Man Jonah. Cheer up, honey.”

  She gave me a doleful smile. “I understand you want to watch over me, but there’s no need, really. I can sleep at…my place.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I want to go there.”

  “Only if I come with you,” I said.

  She nodded tiredly. “No need, then, we’ll manage. Can I use your phone? I just want to tell them I’m all right.”

 
“Tell who?”

  She wouldn’t say, and I let it go. By that time, I was completely on her side. Something in her had touched me, something…mystical.

  I gave her my cell phone. She dialed then left someone a message. She spoke in plain English and said not to worry about her, that she was going home because she’d been found. She said she didn’t know what would happen, but she wanted everyone to know she was all right, and that she would call again as soon as she could. Then she erased the phone number from my cell phone and gave it back to me. I thought of Alice and guessed that Daria’s mystery apartment belonged to foreign workers whose identities she wanted to protect so they wouldn’t get in trouble.

  “Thank you. You’re generous and very kind to me,” she said softly.

  She confounded me. There seemed to be two conflicted souls inside her. One struggled to escape us; the other yielded and was even grateful. I sat her in what we call “the lounge” — a room the size of a bathmat that contains our miniature kitchen — and gave her a few newspapers and a book about the secrets of marketing. I’m sure business will boom once Sammy finally gets around to looking at it. That’s all the reading material we have in the office.

  Half an hour later, my cell phone rang. Eve’s name appeared on the screen. I answered, and a mature, authoritative voice asked for Daria without any introductions. It wasn’t Eve. I went to the lounge and handed her the phone.

  As Daria listened to the caller, her face darkened. She sank into her chair, closed her eyes, and whispered, “Yes, I know. Please, Great Mother, please don’t send me to the blue room. Yes, I understand what I’ve done… I’m ready… Yes, I take full responsibility… I want to be with you. I made a mistake. I was irresponsible. Please let me come back…”

  “May the skies bless you,” said the commanding voice when Daria handed me back the phone. “I’m Deborah. I wanted to thank you and Sammy.” She paused for a moment then continued, “You’ve performed an incredibly important mission. You’ve served the great idea. You are welcome to come visit and get to know us better. I’d be delighted.”

  Eve had mentioned Deborah, the aunt we hadn’t met yet. I wanted to ask Daria why she called her Great Mother, and what was the blue room she was so terrified of, but she had fallen asleep. It seemed Deborah had drained her last remaining strength. I covered her with a coat forgotten by one of our clients, picked up the newspapers that had fallen from her lap and landed on the floor, and turned on the computer to answer the dozens of emails that had accumulated in the last few days.

  At dusk, I woke her up. We left Sammy in the office and went down to the street. I plucked two parking tickets from my windshield left by an overzealous traffic warden and ushered Daria into the car.

  “Ready for takeoff. Please fasten your seatbelts.” I smiled at her, trying to appear lighthearted and friendly.

  She didn’t smile back.

  “I’m your chauffeur for the day, ma’am,” I continued primly. No answer. I suggested we go see a movie, take a walk in Jaffa, go shopping for new makeup, Japanese sandals, Swedish jeans.

  She didn’t want anything.

  “Hungry?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Want some sushi?”

  “No.”

  “A herring sandwich?”

  “No.”

  “Big Mac?”

  She shuddered. “I need to think about what I put into my body.”

  “There’s nothing to eat at my place. Would you like some spaghetti? Lasagna?”

  “Ask the Duchess.”

  “Maybe I should just call the Queen of England.”

  “You should ask Eve. She’ll tell you what I’m allowed to eat. I need to be pure.”

  “Pure?”

  That reminded me of something. I stopped at a bar to refuel my system with some rye whiskey, which, as everyone knows, purifies both heart and soul and helps in coping with stressful situations. Daria schlepped along behind me. Her desperate expression transformed into one of bafflement when we entered the bar, as if she’d never been in one. Maybe she hadn’t.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “I can’t drink alcohol. It is forbidden.”

  “Says who?”

  “Deborah. Alcohol dims the light.”

  “Bullshit. I’ll have the barman fix you a cocktail that’ll have you seeing the northern lights.”

  She wasn’t convinced. “No. Alcohol contains only the illusion of happiness.”

  I ordered a glass of whiskey and raised an eyebrow at her.

  “The road to happiness is blocked to those who cannot control themselves and perform harmful acts,” she recited upon seeing my questioning look. “Only she who opens her heart to hear shall be redeemed.”

  “Not bad,” said Udi the barman, who listened with curiosity. “Got any more?”

  “Happiness may be the destination, but the road leading to it is hard and arduous. Happiness brings the kingdom of heaven closer to us.”

  “What if I feel like shit?” Udi joked. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you believe in evil. Period. That’s the simple and complete answer. We need to cleanse ourselves of evil thoughts, stay far from evil. It is the only way to salvation.” Her eyes were fixed on a point somewhere behind Udi’s left ear.

  “What’s with her?” Udi was taken aback.

  “Heroin. I’m taking her to rehab,” I whispered.

  He started laughing and announced to everybody sitting at the bar, “Everyone, I’m handing out samples of my newest cocktail, The Road to Happiness.”

  In the car, I apologized to Daria. That joke had been in poor taste.

  “That’s all right — places like that bring out the evil aspect in people.”

  “Evil? I don’t think so… A few secrets, maybe.”

  “I think it wasn’t the right place for you either. You look frazzled, worn-out,” she said and touched my head. “You feel everything is too difficult, that there’s no way out.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Yes, Dikla, I’m talking about you. You feel like you’re still in darkness. You’re afraid of emptiness. You have nothing to believe in.”

  I was happy she was finally feeling more comfortable, but all her new-age psychobabble made me uncomfortable. My cell phone roared and saved me the trouble of deciding how to make her shut up.

  “Shoshkowitz,” Sammy barked. “I remind you that she does have allergies, just like her mom told you. I spoke with Eve just now, and she asked that you check with her before giving Daria anything to eat. Don’t kill her with the shrimp corpses rotting in your refrigerator. And no whiskey, please.”

  “That’s the least of my concerns,” I told Sammy, because at that very same moment, right in front of my house, I saw Cooper.

  16

  Cooper. Cooper whom I’d lost.

  The son of a bitch looked even tastier than I remembered, wearing a white tank top and a pair of jeans, his skin the color of olive oil, and looking fit. A familiar quiver started to climb from my feet to my throat. Cooper.

  “Hello, Dickie, you look wonderful. Even more beautiful than I remembered,” Cooper said as soon as I got out of the car.

  Remembered? Forgotten all about me already? I wanted to say, but I couldn’t utter a single word.

  I motioned for Daria to get out of the car and started walking toward the entrance, as if the sweetest eyes in the world weren’t looking at me, eyes belonging to the man with the hottest body in the Middle East. As if I didn’t feel like making love with him then and there, in the middle of the street, in front of Daria, the neighbors, and the world.

  “Dickie, dear, please wait, let me… Can we talk for a moment? If you’d just let me—”

  “I don’t feel like it,” I said evenly and continued to walk.

  “I understand th
at you’re angry, but if you’d just—”

  “Angry?” I turned to him with an expression worthy of a Siberian ice queen. “Not at all. Why should I be angry? Do I have a reason to be angry?”

  “Dickie, please, I gave you a hint. I tried to explain to you that I wouldn’t—”

  “Now listen to me well,” I interrupted him. “I can’t be angry at someone who’s less than a piece of trash. So don’t flatter yourself, you piece of shit. I’m not angry.”

  I pulled Daria after me and together we disappeared up the staircase. His voice chased me up the stairs. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Dikla, please, just let me—”

  “Don’t you ‘Dikla’ me. Just erase my name from your memory bank, and don’t you dare show up here uninvited ever again. Is that clear?” I screamed down. Daria and I stood in front of my apartment door. I fumbled feverishly in my oversized cloth bag to find my keys.

  Daria, who had plodded after me climbing the stairs, as silent as a sack of potatoes, looked at me keenly. “Let me help you,” she said. “Your hands are shaking.”

  “I’m all right,” I fumed.

  “You need to take deep breaths and look inside, find the compassion within.”

  I looked at her with amazement. The change that girl had undergone in the past few hours was truly stunning. From a frightened animal on the run, she’d turned into a chatterbox version of Mother Teresa.

  “I told you I’m fine,” I insisted and continued to struggle with my bag. “I’m perfectly all right.”

  She wasn’t impressed. “Here, let me help.” With an assured movement, she took my bag, stuck her hand in, and fished out the keys. “You need to listen to yourself. All the answers are already inside you. You know your own path.”

  I opened the apartment door and called Chechnya, my tough little kitten, needing to see a reliable, friendly face.

  Chechnya trotted up and scolded me in brisk Catish for being unreasonably late in serving her dinner. After all, that’s why she keeps me around the house in the first place. She sniffed Daria’s shoes and walked away from her with distaste. Daria wasn’t interested in Chechnya either. She was completely engrossed in her newest calling in life — helping me discover my inner light.