by Dov Nardimon
“They make less than what any starting Israeli technician would work for as it is. They’re new immigrants who have very little options, and we’ve exploited that fact more than enough,” said Eddie, putting his foot down. “This raise will benefit them and the company much more than your swanky new laptop and PalmPilot.”
Reuben chose not to enter another argument with Eddie and backed off the discussion. Whenever they did argue, the fact that Eddie, along with Rose’s shares, had the majority of votes at the company and Reuben had no way of stopping him from realizing his ideas was never mentioned.
They both knew it would be extremely difficult to have any sort of work routine if, whenever they had a disagreement, the issue of formal majority in the company was brought up. So they argued and tried to convince one another unless Reuben saw Eddie had locked in to one of his principles and wouldn’t budge. In cases like these, Reuben would avoid getting into the argument .He would pour out his frustration at home to his wife Ronit, who supported Eddie’s principles more often than not to Reuben’s great disappointment.
Six months passed since Rose’s departure and the tragedy that befell her, and Eddie became much more closed off and sensitive. It was clear he was deeply tormented by her leaving. To save money, he moved out of the rented apartment in Rehovot and into a smaller, rundown apartment for half the price in Be’er Ya’acov in the same neighborhood where Ebocell-Tech was located. He cut his salary in half and suggested Reuben cut his salary down a bit as well for the upcoming twelve months. As expected, Reuben refused.
“You have your compensation money from your years in the army, and Ronit is earning a doctor’s wage,” said Eddie. “I’ve moved close by to save on rent and am willing to make do with half the pay for the next year. We have no other choice, Reuben.”
“Living alone in minimal condition is easy, Eddie. Maintaining a house and family is a whole other thing, and I can’t see how we can downgrade our life style.”
Eddie did not want to get to the point where he would have to confront Ronit about this, so he backed off on the housing point.
“I’m giving up half my wage and turning it into an owner’s loan that will be repaid if and when financials improve. You can give up half your wage or less in the same arrangement.”
Reuben came round a bit. “In that case I’ll be willing to give up a quarter of my wage and have it as a loan under the same terms.”
This way the two saved a significant chunk of the company’s monthly cash flow, knowing full well they may not be able to repay the owner loans and get their money back. As always it was Eddie who made the bigger sacrifices. He would also stay at work until nine or ten o’clock every night and was the first to arrive at seven o’clock in the morning. So Eddie’s life that year was comprised of work, work, and work.
The only e-mails on his computer that were not related to work comprised of short, weekly letters to his sisters in the States which basically read, Everything’s fine, and of anguish-ridden letters to Amit, the only person he felt he could confide in. Amit, on the other hand, kept sending happy reports from South Africa about preparations for the wedding that was taking place in the Cape region.
I’ve convinced the family to have an outdoor wedding on the beach where the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans meet. Sandra’s parents were a bit taken aback by the idea—it’s the middle of nowhere—but I convinced them we’re going to make history and set a new tradition in South Africa. I guess they figured there was no arguing with this weird Israeli guy, and I even think my enthusiasm rubbed off on Sandra’s dad. We’ll have a second wedding a month later back home in Israel after I get my South African citizenship. You have to come to both weddings! Sandra’s dad’s mining company is paying for group tickets from Israel, and I’ve put your name down along with my parents and brother.
Eddie thought about politely refusing, using the workload as an excuse, but was unsure and still hadn’t replied. There was another matter weighing heavy on his mind that stopped him from totally immersing himself into work. Almost every day he would find himself preoccupied with some professional problem, but his mind wandered to Rose and the way she left. He hated the way they ended things, or more accurately, the way they didn’t end things and just left everything open and up in the air. His conscience troubled him about not finding the way to devote more time to Rose, who gave up her entire world to start a new life with him. As time passed, it became clearer and clearer to him just how big of an effort it must have been for her to try and fit in to a new country and have him gone for days on end. On the other hand, he felt scorchingly insulted at the fact that she did not want to see him in her time of grief and didn’t need him anymore. He knew he could not be angry with her or blame her—after all, he played a major part in the fact that she didn’t need him, and perhaps that was why he became angrier and angrier at himself.
And then there was the longing. The empty bed every night made him feel so lonely. He missed talking to her at the end of each day about everything he’d been through and looking into her attentive, understanding eyes. He missed her body, holding her, and letting all the stresses of the day dissolve into peace and quiet.
He had no desire to meet someone new. He had no energy left in him. The company took everything he had, and he felt crippled by missing Rose and by his guilty conscience. He just wanted her next to him, but knew he had no moral right to ask her to come back without making any changes in his own way of life. The contradiction between meeting the demands of the company and the concessions he would have to make to get Rose back tore him up inside and rendered him even more despaired. Every night he would mull this over and over before falling asleep with no answer allowing life to flow forward in a narrow creek that had only one route.
Reuben’s wife, Ronit, who had the chance to meet Rose at some unsuccessful double dates, made it a habit to invite Eddie to dinner once a week. She did so in order to support Eddie in his loneliness and to try and improve the tense relations between him and Reuben. She had a very clear understanding of the power struggles between the two and secretly supported Eddie’s position in most arguments. In time it became clear to Ronit that, in addition to her good intentions, she enjoyed having Eddie over very much and sensed the feeling was mutual. They never said it, but the weekly gathering became something they both looked forward to more and more.
At the end of the night Reuben would clear the dishes as Ronit walked Eddie to the door. At that very moment, her eyes would search for Eddie’s in a gaze full of yearning and of a cry for help, and he, afraid to lock eyes with hers, would look down so as not to let her see his attraction for her. That sweet moment would keep him warm all the way back to his lonely room and the thought of Ronit’s gaze would fill him with a sense of comfort and hope for a better future. He resented Reuben for failing to appreciate the warm and loving nest his partner created and wondered whether he read her gaze correctly.
Why wasn’t I as lucky as to meet someone like Ronit? He asked himself, and immediately remembered Rose’s jealous remark about Ronit, ‘the beautiful doctor’. Guilt ridden and upset, he returned to his sad little room for another night of anguish.
Chapter 26
For three months Eddie held himself back from writing to Rose out of respect for what she had asked of him. He absorbed himself in guilt over Rose’s departure and did not dare write to her. He assumed he had lost her forever, but still wished for a letter or any sign of life from her. At the end of one long day at work, sitting alone in his office feeling too exhausted to go on with the research, he decided to retire to home, where no one was waiting for him. He closed the file he had been working on and checked his inbox, which he had emptied only an hour before. It wasn’t that he was expecting any new e-mails. It was simply a habit he had, checking his inbox whenever he felt lonely. As always, the letter from Rose he so wished for was not there, and suddenly he started typing, writing to her spontaneously and from the heart.
My darling Rose,
It’s been three months and two weeks since you left, or should I say, since you returned to your true home. Despite the never-ending work from dusk ’til dawn, I miss you. I miss knowing or feeling that you’re here, waiting for me at the end of each day at our home. I miss how you listened and understood me on the nights you weren’t cross. I miss feeling your body against mine every night and the way you used to touch me and make all my worries fade away.
I’ve tried so hard to honor your request and not write, but I just can’t take it anymore. I’m sure you know if it weren’t for my commitment to the company, the workers, and more importantly to the investor, dearest Aubrey, whom we’ve lost, I would have come to be with you. I am torn everyday between my obligation and missing you.
Love, Eddie.
He stared at the screen for a long while, wondering if he should add or erase anything, until finally he pressed Send. He had the feeling Rose was also sitting at her computer at the very same time and hoped for an immediate response. But there was none. So he turned off his computer, shut off the lights, and rode home on his bike. In the morning—earlier than usual—he came to work and checked his inbox first thing. Still there was no reply from Rose. He kept this up for two weeks until one Sunday, a response came.
Dear Eddie,
I read your letter right when you sent it, but couldn’t bring myself to write back until now. I’m afraid to admit that I still love you, but even more afraid of returning to the dungeon that life with you between Rehovot and Be’er Ya’acov felt like. I keep busy all day long running the farm, and as you know so well since work takes up all of one’s energy, the feeling of loneliness is muted. Like you, I miss the few nights of grace when we enjoyed each other’s company and the tenderness and passion we shared. I remember it vividly and treasure the memory.
I don’t know what the future holds, and I doubt if it has something in store for the two of us together. Life this past year has taught me we cannot make any plans. . . Please take care of yourself, and I’ll do the same for the sake of the people who depend on me here on the farm. As for the future, I think we should let time play its part. I don’t expect you to stay faithful to me, though it would hurt me if you didn’t. I am making no commitments to you either. Do not feel obligated to me in any way because of my father’s investment. I have every confidence that you will make it worthwhile eventually.
Love you still, Rose.
Eddie could not concentrate on his work all day after reading Rose’s letter. He felt her words poking at his mind. Her tone was one of disappointment and acceptance. He searched between the lines for hope of change, but realized both he and Rose were bound by unbreakable commitments they could not bridge—like two parallel lines that can never meet.
He spent a depressing evening in his little apartment in Be’er Ya’acov. Making significant scientific progression on the one hand and the lack of funds on the other was causing him a great deal of frustration. Sasha, an employee who had joined the company a few months earlier, had some new ideas about electromagnetic radiation that had the potential to really transform the rate of progression, but again, money was the block that could not be surpassed. He detested the thought of having to woo investors, to go on a road show in order to raise the money. He thought of Rose again. He knew that she would invest more money into the company if only he asked her, but that was the one thing he would never do.
The phone rang and broke his thoughts.
“Hello,” he answered in a grim tone.
“Hey, Eddie, why so serious? We’re all here already waiting just for you!” said a familiar, joyful feminine voice.
“Who’s this?” He wondered for a moment.
“Shame on you. . .”
“Orit, Orit!” Eddie came to his senses and made a save at the last minute. “I’ve just been preoccupied with annoying thoughts. I got in from work just now. I’ll jump in the shower and be there in half an hour.”
The phone call reminded him of Orit’s e-mail two weeks earlier, inviting him to a little class reunion—a small, intimate gathering of friends at Café Napoli.
“I’m visiting Israel and have a surprise to share,” she had told him.
Eddie wrote back to say he was coming, but with all his concerns, he forgot all about it. He was in no mood to meet the guys from university and answer questions about how things were going at the company, but he couldn’t let Orit down.
She just might give me a good enough reason to get over my mood, he thought, and already felt a bit better.
He put down the phone and hurried to get ready.
A hand waving happily at him rose up from the cheerful bunch sitting around several tables grouped together. Someone’s broad back was blocking Orit from his view. She got up and gave Eddie a warm hug and kiss on the cheek.
She stroked his cheek and said, “You’ve lost weight, Eddie. What’s up? Is there no one taking care of you?” The whole group greeted him and before he had the chance to speak, Orit switched to English. “This is Eddie, a good friend from university and an old, unrequited love of mine. And this is Leon Mendelsohn, my fiancé. We’re getting married in two months.”
The men shook hands, and Eddie, feeling quite embarrassed, took a seat. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Eddie. I take it you almost made it to California too, which would have prevented me and Orit from ever getting together.”
“Yeah, I could have ended up in California. As for Orit and I, I think it’s been an unfulfilled dream for both of us.”
“What a confession, Eddie!” cried one of the friends. Eddie said nothing, cursing the moment he ever agreed to come.
“We met six months ago,” said Orit. “Leon is a Navy Seals officer, so you two probably have a lot in common—lots of army experiences to compare. He’s being relocated to Naples, Italy, to a navy base with the US Sixth Fleet. We visited there together last week and took some time off to visit Israel so that Leon could meet my family. He’s Jewish, but it’s his first time here. Next time we come, it’ll be for the wedding.” Orit grinned with true joy.
The next hour passed with everyone catching up and reminiscing about their time in the university. Eddie paid no attention. He forced himself to have some army small talk with Leon just to be polite. In his mind he was somewhere else entirely. Then he got a phone call from his parents and seized the opportunity. He apologized, saying there was an emergency at the company he had to deal with, and left.
Now he felt even more depressed than he did at the beginning of the evening. He lay awake in his bed for a long while, trying to make sense of things and figure out what he was doing wrong. He had no relationship, was in constant disagreement with his business partner, and was leading the company to failure due to lack of funds. And if all that wasn’t enough—here comes Orit and shows him what he missed out on. How could he not see she was into him? Why had he just assumed he had no chance with a girl like her?
He felt he was such a bad judge of character that surely he was wrong about everything: the way he was with Reuben, the way he was with Rose before she left, the way he was with everyone around him. The only person he felt comfortable and at ease with was Ronit, his partner’s wife of all people. Or maybe he was wrong about her too, and was misreading her empathy toward him?
He felt confused, despaired, and unsure of himself. He considered calling Amit, but couldn’t even muster the strength to explain to him what he was feeling. Time and distance took their toll, and Amit’s happy letters from South Africa about his fiancée seemed so remote from the depressing reality Eddie found himself in that he passed on the option to share what he was going through with him.
He tried to think of a dramatic action that would break the chain of wrong moves and bad results. He had to turn things around before giving in completely to apathy and fatalism. In that moment of utter desperation Eddie made the decision to infect himself with the Ebola virus.
Chapter 27
Voices coming from the direction of the entr
ance door to his room brought Eddie back to reality.
The door opened and a man dressed in a security guard’s uniform and carrying a gun entered. A second uniformed man entered and placed a tray of aromatic food on the table. By the time Eddie sat down the two men had already left the room without uttering a single word. Eddie went over to inspect the tray and saw a bowl of steaming soup, a bun, and a plate of salad. The cutlery and dishes were all made of plastic. His captors clearly did not take any unnecessary risks that would enable him to harm himself.
They thought of everything, he thought and sat back down on the sofa. He had no appetite, but then gave it a second thought and changed his mind. I’m going to need all the energy I can get if I’m going to make it out of here. He walked to the table and forced himself to eat every last scrap. His stomach, shrunken after five weeks of staying at the hospital and fighting Ebola, still had not recovered its normal dimensions, and he was still very thin. In fact, the difficulties he had been through made him lose weight several months before the decision to infect himself with the dangerous virus.
Who knows how long I’m going to be pampered in this nice room and what the next step these people have in store for me, Eddie pondered after finishing his meal. He got undressed, ran a bath, and soaked in the steamy, fragrant water and bubbly foam. The hot water and suds caressed his body, and he tried to retrace everything that had happened to him and Reuben during those past few hours. He tried to gauge how long it had been since they were taken and whether it was day or night out. He was extremely tired, which made him think it was probably late in the night, but he had no way of verifying that. He thought he was somewhere in Europe, and the fact that the men who took them spoke German caused him to believe they were in Germany or Austria. He assumed if it was nighttime, they would probably let them be ’til morning. What really made no sense to him were the comfortable accommodations and that message he read on the TV screen. What the hell was this Science City that required abduction?