by Limor Moyal
The last sentence was said to Dan and the meaning was clear: You want more people, including the tabloids, to know what happens in your bed? Or, to be exact, what doesn’t happen?
Dan clenched his fists as anger coursed through him, not that tabloids or readers of such crap, or their opinions, worried him. But the fact that these people were trying to manipulate him filled him with a sense of impotent rage.
He really thought Lena deserved something, some compensation. He wanted to make the wasted years up to her, but he was disgusted by the way she’d chosen to reach into his pocket.
“We’ll go to my office with Lena and Alex. We’ll let things calm down a little bit, and we’ll let poor Lena collect herself, and then we’ll meet again in twenty minutes to see if we can settle the issue today.” The shark took the files from the desk. The colorless trainee, almost with the exact same body language and gestures, did the same. They got up and walked together towards the door. Lena walked close to Shohat, and still avoided eye contact with Dan.
Alex was last to leave the room, not before giving Dan “The Look.” It was ridiculous and pathetic, and Dan could only smile. The smile grew bitter, and the bitter smile grew into loud and rolling laughter. Dan knew he was laughing like a mad man, and he didn’t care.
“What’s so funny? Please enlighten me.” Gideon said, a concerned edge creeping into his voice.
“Nothing, everything…,” said Dan, calming himself, “I just thought that on the way to hell we should stop for a moment and enjoy the view.”
“Listen, Dan, the woman wants a bite, a big bite, of your cake. I’ll be honest with you, you’re a known man since GreenTech’s launch two years ago. Given the press exposure, and your pretty face, you’ve turned into a minor celebrity. I know you never intended to, but you’re there, and the spotlights are shining on you. Those same spotlights are going to light up every part of your life – good or bad or even scandalous. I don’t know what happened between you two, and I’m not going to ask. Your sex life with your wife is your own business, but don’t forget, that if she drags this into court, we will probably win, and they’ll accept what you’re offering anyway. But the damage to your image, and public exposure and the buzz this story will make, will not be beneficial for you… or GreenTech. I know you don’t care what people say, and you don’t care if it will cause GreenTech as setback.”
Gideon put a gentle, comforting hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Look, I've known you since you were a child, when I still worked with your father, rest his soul, and I really think it’ll hurt you, Dan. It will hurt your ego, and it will hurt your chances for a better future. And Dan, I want to see you happy. For the last few years you’ve seemed like a dead man walking and it breaks my heart.”
Dan understood and appreciated Gideon’s worry, he knew the man was right.
“Your assets today, with GreenTech, are around 40 million. From that, you have a liquid fortune of about half. Let’s offer her 5 million, and we’ll settle for 8. I know she doesn't deserve it, but YOU deserve it Dan. You’re buying freedom. You’re buying quiet, and you’re buying discretion, and for these three things, 8 million is a reasonable price.”
Dan was quietly thinking. The money really wasn’t of much value to him. He was never interested in money, he never chased it, or thought of gaining it as a goal unto itself. For him, money was a means to other things. A means to the ability to better live with himself. And was this not exactly the purpose? Was this not exactly the situation that justified using his fortune?
“She deserves it Gideon. She deserves even more. You know as well as I do that I married here for all the wrong reasons. You knew it was bad for the both of us in this relationship. She really loved me, and she really wanted to raise a family. She never let me feel that she was there for the money. To a certain extent, I mislead her. I knew I was getting married just to get him off my back, and I did it anyway. And now she’s mad, and her anger is translated into the numbers given to you by her idiotic lawyers. But it’s okay, at least this, Gideon, I can give her.” Dan sighed for a moment and said, “Give her what she wants and get me out of this gas chamber.”
Gideon smiled and said, “Go home, Dan. Have a glass of whiskey and breathe a little. I’ll tie up the loose ends here. Just one more thing… I think you’re being harsh on yourself. At least as a by-stander, I didn’t get the feeling she suffered in this marriage. You’re a good man and you always were, and I respect your decision.”
“Thank you, Gideon, I don’t know what I would do without you, you’re a good friend,” he hugged Gideon more strongly than usual, taking a breath of the laundry smell of his jacket. For a second, the smell reminded him of his father.
“Just promise me that I won't need to see her again. I really don’t think I can handle it,” said Dan.
“I’m pretty sure she’s not too eager to see you more than necessary, I don’t anticipate the need for a future meeting,” Gideon answered with a sad smile.
Gideon’s idea about whiskey and home seemed, to Dan, like a great way to push him a little further towards the edge. The house in Herzliya Pituach that he and Lena had bought two years before now stood like a memorial stone to a marriage that never existed.
Dan hated it when Lena was part of it, but with her absence, he hated it even more. Every item in the house reminded him of her and her attempts to surround herself with fashionable and expensive objects that would hide her from herself, that would hide the scared Russian orphan. All those objects that helped hide his revulsion with life.
Maybe, he thought, if the house were decorated, he would feel less empty inside. It worked like reverse acquisition; the more he and Lena bought and collected objects, the more he felt the void inside him grow, threatening to swallow him, like a black hole.
Now, with Lena gone, the objects remained, as did the bad memories. The house was no more than a giant space, with a relentless appetite for expenses. The expenses hadn’t bothered him as much as the absurdity of paying such immense amounts for a place that you hate.
The only thing in the monstrous piece of real estate that he liked was the kitchen. Lena chose an Italian kitchen, with a giant island in the middle, and top of the line cooking equipment. Starting with cast iron pots and pans, a chef’s oven and a built in BBQ. Never mind that the woman managed to burn water, and even the coffee she used to make him from time to time tasted like cold mud. The point was appearance, she needed it to be there, and of course - only the best. Unlike the rest of the house that held nothing that interested him, the kitchen, he liked. He found something therapeutic in cooking, something easy to succeed in, and no one criticized him or thought it wasn’t good enough. Mostly because no one tasted any of his cooking. Lena’s menu was mostly based on lettuce and carrot sticks, and in the five years they were together the woman had lived on a rabbit’s diet.
They didn’t have many friends in common. When her friends were to visit the house, Dan made sure to vanish. He preferred to stay away and use those rare opportunities to be with himself. Sometimes he felt like he was the only person he could tolerate. He had friends, two good ones from University, the guys from GreenTech management, and Robby, his best friend from the army. The one he hadn’t seen for the past year and a half, mostly because Lena didn’t like his wife Liz, but also because Dan was too tired to fight for the relationship.
None of them were close enough to him to stay for dinner. But he was quite certain that at least some of them would attend his funeral, as long as it’s not held on a weekend, of course, except Robby; Robby was always there when Dan needed a shoulder.
No, he wouldn’t do that to himself, he wouldn’t go home. He’d go to the office, to the gym and blow off some steam; he had a lot of steam to blow off.
And later maybe he’ll have a beer on the deck outside and feel sorry for himself, with no one bothering him and saying he’s poisoning the atmosphere.
2 Private Cloud
He parked in the Culture Palace’s par
king lot. It always reminded him of being in a foreign place. Until he’d bump into the first Israeli, which would remind him where he really was.
He killed the engine and remained seated in the car. The radio was still playing and he sat back and listened to Travis singing Why Does It Always Rain On Me? and wondered, why does it, really?
When the song was over, he checked the clock on the dashboard. He had three minutes to get to Mike’s on Chen Avenue, so he quickly locked the car and made his way towards the office. On the way, he thought about the passing week, ever since Gideon texted him that the ordeal with Lena was over.
A week of work, gym, and a huge dose self-pity. A week of waiting for this meeting with Mike, to be reminded why the fuck he doesn’t kill himself and ends this saga called ‘life’.
Dr. Michael Doctor, the shrink with the most redundant name in the country, was an anchor for Dan’s sanity; if it wasn’t for the weekly visits and the mental chess games, he’d go back to the meds, and if there was anything Dan didn’t want to do, it was to start taking those again.
Especially not after the legal shark’s remark on his non-existent erection. He kicked a box that lay on the pavement blocking his way, and tried erasing the sour memory from his mind. His sex life, which had lately left the boundaries of his private bedroom, bothered him more than ever.
“Dan my dear, I see you’re in a great mood today, you went from 'deeply dark mood' to 'lightly depressed', we’re making progress here,” Mike said with a smile.
The senior shrink, with his eternal Cheshire smile. Dan loved the man, and always felt great after meeting him. Right up until his private rain cloud would reappear over his head of course, which usually happened faster than he wished.
“I've never been happier!” said Dan with his usual cynicism. “We signed the divorce agreement yesterday. I got the signed paper delivered, so I even avoided the hell of seeing her or her legal team again. I'm a free man, Mike - eight million shekels poorer, but free,” Dan grinned.
“That’s what it cost you to get a divorce? I think I’ll divorce you too, Dan; retirement is calling me.” Mike dove into his chair and Dan sprawled on the green chaise longue.
Mike’s office was an island of peace and emotional nudity for Dan, a sort of urban haven.
In this room, reality lost its tight grip on him. He could feel like he was in a different life, no timeline, no defined space. It felt like a pause in life’s race, shedding the ego and the usual pretension, and he could, for a short moment, be himself.
But Dan knew it was only a temporary respite, and that, after the therapeutic effect would fade away, he would still be in his usual darkness, and the session with Mike would only be a cloudy memory of mental masturbation.
Still, he kept seeing Mike; after all, there’s nothing wrong with masturbation, mental or otherwise.
“Worth every penny if you ask me, I'm so glad it’s over,” Dan sighed.
“Are you saying that you’ve found happiness? That now, with Lena gone, your life will turn into a musical? We both know it’s a small step. There’s a long road ahead of you. It’s important you don’t see the divorce as a “Mission Accomplished” banner. The complicated relationship with Lena was just a part of the things that you’re stuck on.”
“I'm paying you to make me feel better! You know that, right?”
“You’re paying me so I can help you get to the truth. What’s the truth Dan? Do you really think that you’re going to feel great now? That your life is finally starting now that she's gone?”
Dan took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Could it be? Lena had been an iron ball chained to him and drowning him. But the fact that it wasn’t there anymore didn’t mean that he’d made it safely to shore.
“It’s a step, an important step. I know it should have ended, for both our sakes, and I'm glad it did. I'm enjoying a few moments of peace before I sink again. Give me a moment to enjoy my own company, Mike!”
Mike lit his pipe. Dan liked this old-fashioned custom. He liked the smell and the look of a man thinking and puffing. Mike with his pipe reminded him of an old picture of Tolkien.
“So what’s the next step?” Mike puffed and asked.
“I have no idea. But I can tell you what the next step won’t be: A woman! There will not be a woman and kids. I won’t get myself into that anymore. It’s not that I like being alone, but I prefer being alone to being with someone who makes me feel lonelier than I would by myself. Someone I don’t understand and can’t understand. And what’s wrong with not wanting kids? Kids aren’t meant for everyone! I can barely take care of myself. Why the fuck would I create another person, when I have nothing to give him? Where does it say that it’s mandatory to have kids?”
“Not wanting kids is fine, I also agree that you don’t HAVE to be a parent, and there are people doing it to try and save themselves from an emotional dead-end, loneliness, or a thousand other wrong reasons. I think it’s a crime.
As far as relationships go, Dan, we talked about you marrying Lena just to satisfy your father, and to fit yourself into the mold he made for you, but he passed away, and with him went his expectations. I think you still have some left over that you need to clear out. He physically died, but parts of him are still alive and beating, parts you need to be free of, Dan. If you don’t free yourself you’ll find “Lena: Part Two”, and I'm pretty sure that another episode like that will completely break you.”
“There won’t be another episode like this one, and I'm pretty sure that as far as my dad’s expectations go, I'm over it. But if you come across loose ends let me know!”
“So, if not a woman, what are you planning to do to bring back the spark in your eyes? What’s the next step? The fact that you’re not standing in your own way anymore doesn’t mean you’re going to start moving again. Now you need to find the energy that’ll move you, to find something that will bring you back to life, something to give you meaning.”
“Thank you Mr. Viktor Frankl, I read that book, and no, I still didn’t find meaning. And if this is the part when you ask me ‘why aren’t you jumping out of the window?’ let me remind you, that we’re on ground floor, and other then trampling your neighbor’s begonias, it wouldn’t do any good.”
Mike laughed and took another puff of his pipe, “I'm pretty sure you’re not a candidate for suicide. At least I hope so, because your monthly payments are quite nice, and you’re not so bad yourself. I think you need a change of scenery, a change of human scenery. You always tell me how socializing makes you feel terrible, exhausts you and drags you down. But most, if not all your social interactions, are for business.
This is the nature of business; everybody has an agenda, the person sitting in front of you sees you as a person who has some sort of agenda. It’s hypocritical, hostile, manipulative interaction based only on the parts of you that you wish to let through, the ones you let the person in front of you see to promote your own agenda. It’s toxic to the soul.
It’s your businessman’s mask, it’s like armor for the real Dan, but it’s not who you really are! I doubt that a single one of the people who you surround yourself really knows you because you never expose the real you.” Mike stated.
“It’s because everyone who I’ve ever been close with has tried to change me, tried to show me what a disappointment I am or tried to make me feel like I’m just not good enough,” Dan said with a cracking voice.
“That’s right, and that’s the reason you divorced Lena. And that’s the reason we’re working on killing the ghost of your father. But that’s just one side of things. The other side is getting new people into your life. People who will care for you, accept you, and lift you up.” Mike agreed.
“I'm sorry to ruin your party Mike, but I can’t think of anyone who meets these criteria. Except for Robby, but I really don’t feel like renewing our friendship right now, I don’t think I can rekindle what we had in the army. That’s history and I’ve never been one for nostalgia.” Dan answ
ered. Mike smiled, puffed again, and answered back, “Said the man who’s nostalgic for his father’s expectations!”
Dan laughed bitterly, “Touché! You make me feel like an idiot sometimes!”
“Well, let me assure you; you’re not an idiot, Dan. You’re at a crossroad, and I'm trying to be a sign at that crossroad, to guide you in that, to tell you what you need to be careful of. Regarding people who love you, let’s talk about Flora; I know you’re avoiding her. There’s not a meeting in which you don’t tell me she called and left a voice message and that you don’t even bother calling back. You need to give her a chance, Dan.”
3 Black, Strong, Lots, and Now
Dan arrived at the office at a quarter to ten, his attempts to crack the Ayalon highway code and find a specific time in the morning that wouldn’t get him stuck in the endless traffic, were, again, in vain.
Sharron welcomed him with her usual smile, “You’re in early today, boss!" she said sarcastically "What happened? A truck got stuck at the Rokah interchange again?”
“Something was stuck somewhere, because I spent an hour and a half in traffic again. Get ready and come to my office for a briefing” he told her, while going into his office and sitting down in front of his computer.
“Coffee, boss?”
“Black, lots, strong, and now!”
It took her a moment to step into his office with his coffee and her tablet. She was armed with glasses and efficiency as she sat down across from him.
“Talk to me!” he ordered.
“Federico sent a message that you don’t need to get to Rome to sign the purchase agreement; he’ll come to Tel-Aviv next month with one of his partners and his lawyer to sign here.” Great. Thought Dan, flying for business was not one of his hobbies. Airports, language changes, time changes and bad food, he hated all of those things and preferred avoiding it as much as he could.