Riding Lies

by Eshkar Erblich-Brifman

  She puts her bike on the carrier, throws her backpack in the trunk, and gets into the car.

  Anat smiles wearily at her. “Oh, I’m so glad this day has finally arrived!” she says, a hint of melancholy in her smile. She activates the GPS and they set off.

  “What’s up?” she asks, “You look upset.”

  “No,” Anat says dismissively, “It’s just I haven’t recovered yet from the weekend,”

  She glances at her quickly and both of them burst into unreserved laughter. “Tell me all,” she asks and Anat sighs and tells her. It’s final, she wants a divorce. She can’t take anymore. She tried, she really did try, but it’s not working. It’s a waste of time. She wants to move on.

  She shifts uneasily in her seat. Is she getting divorced because of Koby? Maybe it’s time to find out, to warn her, to tell her that she knows. But she’s a little concerned about interfering. She prefers not to get her hands dirty and also not to hurt Anat. Does she have the guts to say anything? She may be able to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life. On the other hand, Anat doesn’t love Dror. Maybe her reasons for getting divorced have nothing to do with Koby.

  “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?” she asks, trying to tiptoe around the subject without giving herself away. It’s not clear what Anat is aware of. And she doesn’t have a clue if Anat knows that she knows, or what Anat knows about her. The situation is becoming suffocating.

  Anat shrugs, as if it’s a trivial matter. She looks like a little girl. She’s so innocent, so vulnerable. She feels her insides contracts. She’s on her side, but not completely. If she only had the courage to, she would get involved, say something. But maybe the conditions aren’t right yet. Maybe it’s too soon. She’s not sure and she can’t make up her mind. Meanwhile, she decides it’s none of her business. She looks out the window and sees the landscape turning more yellow the further south they go.

  “It’s not an easy step,” Anat says suddenly, “but I feel we’ve exhausted all our options. We’ve discussed it ad nauseum, Dror and I, and more importantly, I’ve thought it through myself.”

  “Will you stay at home with the kids?” she asks in concern. “Do you think he’ll leave?”

  Anat snorts derisively. “Not a hope in hell. It’s his parents’ apartment. I’ll have to find somewhere else to live. And soon the children will be on summer vacation. It’s a nightmare.”

  “I’ll help you,” she offers immediately. What else could she do?

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she smiles, “you’re amazing.”

  They’re at the meeting point by eight-thirty. Anat wanted to get there early. She doesn’t like arriving at the last minute, and since they were taking her car, and she was also driving and almost always responsible for bringing refreshments and goodies, she didn’t feel comfortable objecting. So they left early.

  Koby welcomes them with a smile. He puts his arm around Anat and his other around her. She shivers, avoiding his touch and evading him. Something in her misses him, and his familiar smell evokes forgotten memories, but she instantly shakes herself, and moves away with a forced smile, so that Anat won’t notice. There’s no need to hurt her even more. She’s already in a sensitive position.

  ***

  Hanan is given a promotion at work. They celebrate the event at a restaurant, something they rarely do. They both eat out every day, it comes with their jobs, and they’ve never felt the need to waste money on food. Certainly not with the children. They waited until the weekend, so they would all be around. At the last minute, Ben informs them that he’s not coming. Within minutes, he and Hanan are arguing bitterly. She doesn’t take sides. She just stands there and watches, the only thing missing is popcorn. In the end, Uri manages to get them to agree. Maybe she has been doing something right all these years of bringing them up.

  By the time they leave for the restaurant, they feel drained and are lost in thought. The street is just about empty. They climb silently into the car and drive off.

  There are only a few restaurants open in Jerusalem on Friday evenings, but she won’t give in to the religious. They can’t dictate how people live. She can every right to enjoy herself on Friday nights too, if she wants to. They’ll just drive to the center of town and avoid the problematic neighborhoods. Hanan booked a table at a recommended meat restaurant. He wants to spoil the boys with a good steak or hamburger. Poor Uri, he eats carbs floating in grease all week, and Ben needs all the energy he can get for his school finals. He must have forgotten that she’s been a vegetarian for two years now. Never mind. It really is okay. She’s used to minimizing her own importance. She’s sure they’ll have at least one vegetarian dish and there’ll be something for her to eat.

  They enter the dimly-lit restaurant, which is packed with people. Luckily, they have reservations. She looks at the other diners. They’re all dressed up, and they remind her of Hagar. This time, she actually made quite an effort. She dug through her closet and found a tailored white shirt with small, turquoise flowers. When she stepped out of the bathroom, fresh and dressed, Hanan complimented her on her shirt. She asks Uri to tell her about his week while they’re waiting for menus.

  With curbed enthusiasm, Uri tells them about the new friends he’s made, about the more difficult boys, like the one who forgot his rifle in the watchtower and the two who had a fight and were punching and kicking each other and were punished for it.

  Hanan wants to hear the more technical details. “Not gossip,” he says, “I want to know what you do there all day.”

  Uri tries to tell him, as best he can. He never was one for words.

  The men order meat, and she asks for a green salad with stuffed mushrooms in batter. As expected, there are a few vegetarian dishes on the menu.

  She asks Ben when his next final is, trying to make conversation, but Ben growls something incomprehensible without lifting his bowed head from the phone.

  The phone in her purse buzzes. She wants to reach for it to see who the message is from, but she knows it’s impolite, and what kind of an example would it be for the children? Maybe she’ll peek at it You’d think she’s dining with the Queen of England. She looks at her family. Uri is also focused on his phone, checking messages, while Hanan is staring at the ceiling and digging in his ear. Yes. It’s as clear as daylight. She is not sitting with the Queen of England.

  She takes out her phone and sees a message, remembering how not long ago, she would wait eagerly for his messages, for his nonsense, for his idle chatter about life, happiness, self-love, fucking.

  It’s a message from Anat. “You can congratulate me, I signed the lease today! You’re invited over to see it when you have time.”

  She smiles. How sweet. She’s happy for her, if this is something to be happy about. She’s not sure. “Congratulations!” she writes and adds a red balloon. “I’d love to see it! And don’t forget, I promised to help, too!”

  Anat sends her a pink flower and a purple heart.

  With a smile mixed with sadness, she turns off her phone and puts it back in her purse.

  ***

  “Where do you want the towels?” she asks, trying to be as efficient as possible. She did promise to help, and it’s time to put her money where her mouth is, now that Anat has moved into her own apartment. She needs all the support she can get, both practical and emotional.

  Anat asks her to put them in the closet under the sink in the bathroom and she does as she’s told. When she stands up, she studies her reflection in the mirror. She runs her fingers through her hair. She needs a haircut. She doesn’t like her hair long. She looks at her shirt and at her breasts. Has she checked them today, she wonders, she’s not quite sure. She lifts her hand to feel them but stops herself at the last minute. She can wait until she gets home! She reminds herself that she’s there to help Anat. It’s safe to assume that a lump hasn’t sprouted overnight, or even
this morning, but if only she could remember…

  Anat comes into the tiny bathroom and puts bags of cosmetics on the counter.

  “Shall I put them away?” she asks.

  “I’ll do it later,” Anat answers and adds apologetically, “it’s better if I do it, that way I’ll know where everything is.”

  She nods. “What else is there to do?”

  Anat shrugs. “I don’t know, there are still a few things left. Luckily Hagar and Amnon were here this morning. They’re wonderful, they helped me so much. Hagar is lucky to have a husband like him. Amnon put together a table for me, and Nadav’s bed, which he had to build from scratch. Do you want to try to assemble the living room table together?”

  “Sure, let’s give it a shot,” she says, pleased with the challenging task. She’s always liked to build and assemble things. She’s less into organizing closets. She kneels down and tears the box open.

  “My sister and her husband are coming to help me tomorrow,” Anat shares, opening the instruction booklet that’s actually as thick as a book.

  “Has Koby been here?” she can’t resist asking, her eyes focused on the screws.

  “No,” she answers in an unhappy tone, “I haven’t been able to arrange anything with him for the last few weeks, he’s busy all the time, I don’t know what his problem is. Maybe it’s because of the summer vacation…”

  “I thought he promised to help,” she mutters, screwing a screw into the wooden tabletop.

  “He came shopping with me,” Anat jumps to his defense, “and he has seen the apartment…and yes, he said he would help but somehow it’s not working out. Maybe he’ll surprise me soon. Perhaps on Sunday. Maybe he has to spend more time with his children now, during the vacation. I understand his ex-wife doesn’t do much. Maybe he’s busy at work, he could have some new riders…”

  She doesn’t respond, although she really wants to change new riders to new women. And she also has a better word than work. She concentrates on a rogue screw and then remembers she forgot to thread on the nut. She curses and removes the screw.

  Slowly, the sun begins to set and the living room is washed in sunset-colored hues. Subdued orange rays penetrate the room, creating flickering stripes on the new table. The windows are wide open, and they can hear the birds chattering as they prepare for the night. A light summer breeze is blowing in, taking the edge off the day’s heat.

  The table is ready. It’s sitting on a small, round, sage-green carpet, and Anat places a potted plant she received that morning from Hagar on top. “I’m so lucky to have such good friends!” she says with a smile, “You have no idea how grateful I am.” She walks to the kitchen, and on the way, she asks, “Shall we have a cup of tea?”

  ***

  She gets back from work, her arms laden with groceries, and tries to kick the door, hoping that Ben will hear her and open it for her. Her hopes are answered and Ben opens it, but hurries straight back to his room. She puts the groceries down at the entrance to the kitchen, wishing that he’d offer to help, that he could be less self-centered for just a moment. After all, he’s not at school anymore. His finals are over. Are all teenagers so self-absorbed, or is it only her sons?

  He’ll be drafted in a few months, and what then? She’ll have two boys in the army. How will she stand it? Will she receive special treatment from the state, or benefits? A discount on Cipralex? She places her purse on the dresser at the entrance and goes to unpack the groceries.

  About half an hour later, Hanan walks in.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, surprised.

  “I had an EKG test, did you forget?” he replies with a question.

  She forgot all about it. That’s one black mark against her. Perhaps even more than one. “Was it okay?” she asks.

  “More or less,” he says and sits down on the sofa, exhausted. “There were a few irregularities, you know…an irregular heartbeat…but minor—”

  “What do you mean minor?! Hanan!” she cries out, What irregularities?

  He laughs. “I’m fine, Orly, really. He said it doesn’t look serious to him, but just to be sure, he asked me to make another appointment in a month. He wants to repeat the test and then to compare the results.”

  She sits down beside him on the sofa, trying to control her heartbeat.

  “What can you do,” he says and laughs, “I’m getting old, Orly.”

  “That’s okay. We all are,” she soothes him, kissing him carefully on the lips.

  “What was that for?” he asks with a smile.

  “Nothing,” she shrugs, “no special reason. Just promise me you won’t die, Hanan, all right?”

  He puts his hand on his heart and swears, then hugs her tightly. Before he lets go, he asks her if she feels like taking advantage of the fact that he’s home early. She smiles and reminds him that Ben is studying in the next room for his psychometric exam. He’s decided to take advantage of the time he has before the army, while everything is still fresh in his mind. That way, he’ll be ready for college as soon as he finishes his army duty. “Those kids,” he mumbles, “they keep ruining our lives.”

  She giggles and suddenly remembers how much she loves him.

  While she’s making a vegetable salad, she receives a message from the riding group. “Does anyone know why Anat’s left?” Her phone is next to her on the counter, and the message catches her eye. Distracted, she cuts her finger with the knife.

  “Ow!” she jumps, startled, and quickly sucks her bloody finger. She looks at her phone again and reads: “Anat left,” and then, in the following messages, Noga’s question: “Does anyone know why Anat’s left?”

  Drops of blood stain the screen, and she promptly sticks her bleeding finger back in her mouth and cleans the screen. She discovers two drops of blood on the cucumber too, and on the knife. Darn. She turns the faucet and puts her finger under the cold water. The water turns pink and the bleeding won’t stop. Where does she keep the damned bandages? She hasn’t cut herself this badly in years. When the children were small, she’d buy them superhero bandages. Today she has no idea if they even have any. She dials Anat as she enters the bathroom. Anat answers. She sounds ill.

  “You left the group?” she asks, searching with her eyes for the bandages.

  “It’s a long story…” Anat says. Either she’s crying or she has a cold, it’s not quite clear.

  “Are you okay?” she wants to know, and finally manages to find the box buried deep in the cabinet.

  Anat doesn’t respond.

  She cradles the phone between her ear and her shoulder and pulls out a bandage. “Anat?” she tries again. A car honks loudly, right beneath the bathroom window.

  “Anat?” she asks again. Her heart is racing, “What happened?”

  She puts the bandage on the cut and tightens it. The blood has to stop sometime.

  “What?” Anat eventually answers.

  “Do you want me to come over?” she asks, feeling as if she’s going to erupt.

  “You can…” Anat answers, sounding completely indifferent.

  “I’m on my way,” she declares and returns the box of bandages to the cabinet. “Maybe it’s time we talked.”

  She knocks on the door and hears Anat call out from inside: “It’s open!”

  Why the hell is it open? She reminds herself to say something about it later, and tentatively opens the door. Who leaves their door unlocked these days?

  She finds Anat lying on her new floral sofa, curled up under a white fleece blanket.

  “What happened?” she asks anxiously, leaning toward her. She’s never seen her like this.

  “He left me,” Anat blurts out and bursts into tears. Her eyes are puffy, her nose red, her cheeks stained with tears.

  “He left you?” she’s not sure she understands.

  Anat nods and blows her n
ose. This is the first time they’re acknowledging the elephant in the room, but it’s clear to them both who the elephant is.

  “It’s only for the best, Anati,” she sits down beside her on the sofa, “you don’t need him.”

  “What?” Anat looks at her tearfully. “Why not? I’m alone now, remember? I’m not cheating on my husband anymore.” she lowers her eyes in shame.

  “Koby’s an idiot,” she says bravely, saying his name for the first time. “He used you, Anat. You know he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. He just wants to have fun. It’s time you understand your own worth. You can find someone much better now that you’re free, all you have to do is look…”

  “Yes, because everyone knows the trees are covered with attractive men over forty…” Anat sneers and then wipes her nose. “Maybe I should talk to him. Accept his terms, it’s better than nothing.”

  “His terms?” she sits up. “He gave you terms?”

  Anat shrugs, “He wants to stay friends.”

  “You don’t need friends like him,” she says coolly, “you have real friends who care about you.”

  “Why do you hate him?” Anat asks directly, her naivety flaring up in an instant.

  She looks at her with compassion. She’s such a good girl. Should she burst the bubble she believes she’s living in? Will she not be hurt by the shrapnel?

  “I know Koby,” she says slowly, “and it’s a good thing you’ve separated. He’s a bag of hot air. Maybe he’s good in bed, but that’s all. He has nothing else to offer.”

  “How do you know?” Anat frowns and pulls the blanket up to her neck.

  “Come on, Anat…” she squirms, wondering how to put it, “because I’ve been there. For a short while…”

  Anat sits up and opens her eyes. “You’ve slept with him?” she rubbing her face in embarrassment.