by Limor Moyal
“Does he know? Did Dorit tell him anything?” asked Dan.
“God, no! I told her not to until I got the green light from you.”
Dan took a moment to think. He stared at the keyboard as if he might find an answer between the keys, and maybe he did, because pictures from his service days in the army came up: The fatigue after an operation, the sloping head banging on the bus’s window on the way home, when you’re too tired to hold your head up. The smell of dust, gunpowder and grease, and his soft bed when he’d come home after weeks of operations.
Being a soldier can be lonely, even if you’re not an actual lone solder, he thought. If he could help a soldier feel some sort of relief when he came home…..
He looked up at Sharron and decisively told her, “You’ve got your green light!”
She rewarded him with a satisfied smile, and went on to make the necessary arrangements.
4 Welcome Texas
“Texas! The commander’s calling you to his tent STAT!”
Tom glanced up to see Eran’s look while giving him the message. It was obvious from Eran’s expression that he was about to get a dressing down from Shai, his commanding officer and the person he felt closest to in the unit. He hated it when Shai reproached him about pushing himself too hard, or volunteering for extra duties, but he knew the upbraiding came from concern and care.
He finished cleaning his M-16 and cross-shouldered it, straightened his uniform and marched reluctantly to Shai’s tent.
“Tom! How many times do I have to tell you? Stop being this unit’s Mother Theresa! I'm sick of sounding like a broken record! You don’t need to raise your hand every time we need a volunteer for a shitty job. There are other soldiers here and they’re getting used to the idea that there’s a sap on base will to take all the fucking responsibility!”
Tom smiled at him, because he understood that Shai’s anger came from caring for him, he's mad about the exploitation he’s witnessing. But Tom, as always, saw things from a different angle, he never felt exploited, or like a sap, he liked taking the responsibilities on himself when it came to the army, even the less pleasant ones. And if it was beneficial for his friends, it was just a bonus for him.
After two years in Israel and in the military, he knew what it meant to be Israeli, he knew that being Israeli is waking up in the morning and going to war; Israelis are soldiers, fighting even when not in the military. Every interaction with anyone from the traffic cop to the cable man, is a verbal fight full of ego and a struggle for dominance. The roads are battlefields, and if you got a discount somewhere, you’re not happy because you saved money, but because you fucked the system.
Growing up in the states, Tom figured this reality was the product of a surviving nation that had grown tired by war. His people being fighters and being survivors was a part of the Israeli D.N.A, the beating heart of this country that he loved. And maybe because he had spent half his life in the U.S, he felt he should give something to his brothers. He tried giving of himself, he tried to ease the suffering and stress of his friends in the unit, and he was determined to give something to the country that became sanctuary, or, in the words of the Torah, the horns of the alter, for him in the last two years.
“Shai, Eran can’t stay here next Saturday; his dad is being admitted again and he needs to go help with the farm; Eitan needs to see his girl-friend because her unit got leave and he hasn’t seen her for a month. If he doesn’t see her now, god knows when he’ll get the chance, and I don’t mind staying. Now when I'm not in Poria I'm at the LSC in Tel-Aviv. So one Saturday in base means silence and three meals, I got this Shai. Besides, I'm going out this weekend, so next week’s okay!”
Shai glared at him with a mixture of admiration, anger, compassion and paternal care and shook his head from side to side.
“After next Saturday, it’s not going to be easy to let you go out because of the Op preparations. I wanted you to go clear your head before that. Tom, you’re too good, you’re driving me nuts, at least do something significant with all this goodness of yours other than letting all these moochers suck your blood. Which reminds me, what did you decide about the officer’s course?” Tom smiled at him. “We talked about it a thousand times Shai, I'm not interested in staying in the army, I want to study physics, my right brain cells miss equations and numbers. I prefer doing it in Israel, which means I have to get settled here and that’s hard to do while serving in the army.”
Shai smiled with disappointment but understanding. ”It’s even harder when you volunteer for every bullshit job and don’t get out too much, Tom.”
“About that… you can actually help me, Shai. I have a meeting with a foster family in Tel-Aviv on Tuesday; any chance for a one-dayer?”
“Sure, Tom, if nothing comes up, you’ve got Tuesday. What’s the deal about this family?”
Tom smiled and blushed. “It’s kind of weird actually, someone in the association got it for me unofficially, a divorced guy interested in fostering a lone soldier. Strange, I know, but it actually sounds good to me, no wife or kids and noise and shit, it's near Tel-Aviv, so I can prepare myself for my release and plans for after the army.”
Shai laughed, “Oh, Tom, this sounds interesting! I hope he’s hot and rich, and that maybe finally you’ll break your bad habit of one night stands with no chance for seconds.”
“I wouldn’t count on it, probably a lonely old man looking for someone who’ll listen to his bullshit, but it’s not a bad fantasy Shai,” answered Tom with a wink.
Shai was the only one in the unit who knew about Tom’s sexual preferences, not that Tom believed in living in the closet or pretending. He’d known when he signed up that the IDF was one of the most progressive armies in the world regarding homosexuality. In his first meeting with Shai, when he was recruited, he told Shai his story and revealed his sexuality. Shai had suggested not sharing with the others, at least not at the beginning, “Let them get to know you, accept you and make you one of them, then tell them, they’ll have a hard time letting their prejudices take over after knowing you personally.”
Tom had agreed with the idea, and did in fact keep the story secret
But over the course of time, he hadn’t felt the need to share, and had grown afraid that his fellow soldiers would be angry with him for his secrecy.
He was terrified by the thought that the discloser might even affect their actions on the battlefield after knowing who he really was.
He led his private life separate from the army, if you can call nameless hookups a life, but it was alright for a while, until he’d finished with his military service. It seemed unfair to start something when he couldn’t really invest himself or even spend time with a potential partner. He knew it would be almost impossible to have a relationship with someone he hardly ever saw. After the army, he hoped to find a home, an emotional anchor that would keep him in Israel. The last thing he wanted was to go back to the States.
“I hope you get it Tom, that you’ll find a home, I can’t wait to see you happy. I can't tell you how much I wish for you to stay in Israel. We’re lacking optimism and kindness around here, and you, Tom, have plenty.” He patted Tom on the back and dismissed him.
The meeting was set for Tuesday night. Tom had received his commander approval to the leave, and Dan invited him to his house to meet for the first time.
They didn’t talk on the phone, silently agreeing that it would be better to talk face to face for the first time. Instead, they made all the arrangements through text. Sharron gave Dan his cell number, told Dan that the soldier’s name was Tom, and clarified that from there on she would be out of it. Dan was satisfied, the last thing he wanted was his personal assistant grilling him about his personal life. He worked hard on keeping it professional with Sharron.
They tried setting a time, but Tom explained that he’d be leaving the military base at 15:00 hours, and his arrival depended on rides and buses and had no idea when he’d get there.
Dan sugg
ested picking him up, but Tom texted:
“Haha. I'm coming from up north, be careful before volunteering yourself!”
This statement resonated, he thought about “volunteering” in the wider sense of the word, and for a moment, he panicked: Would the decision to take on this commitment be too complicated? It wasn’t like he could fire the guy if the arrangement didn’t suit him. Especially not after Sharron described the man’s loneliness and the story about the mysterious aunt. What if it didn’t work? He forced himself not to think about it, and to stay with the decision he made.
On Tuesday morning, Dan woke up feeling as if he was on a mission, and he wanted it to succeed! He tried to define for himself what exactly success would mean in his meeting with Tom. Would success be Tom liking him and viewing him as some sort of older brother? Would they have a good rapport with each other? Could he find common ground with a regular military Joe when his own service was twelve years behind him? He had no idea what success would look like or mean. But one thing he did know, the opposite of success is failure, and failure wasn't an option!
Failure not being an option was his motto, one of the many marks on his soul that his father had left behind, and this particular one, unlike the others, had actually served him well over the years.
To prevent failure, he decided to dedicate the day to preparations. He called Sharron and told her he wouldn’t be coming in that day because he had some errands to run.
He didn’t bother telling her the nature of these errands, or about the upcoming meeting with Tom. He only made sure he had nothing important to do in the office, and then he was free to get busy.
He started by making up the guest room, one out of five he had on the 2nd floor. He changed the sheets, made sure the T.V and cables were working fine, checked the bathroom for soap, shampoo, and fresh towels.
He hadn’t bothered to fire the maid that Lena had brought in twice a week, at least the house was spotless and the laundry was always washed, ironed, and folded.
He had no idea if Tom would want to sleep in the villa, or would prefer going to the LSC, but he preferred having everything ready for every possible scenario.
When the house was ready he started thinking about food: He needed to cook, the guy would probably be starving, but what will he want to eat? What does he like? Is he vegetarian? Vegan? Kosher? Dan had no idea and he decided to cover all the bases. He went to the supermarket and his culinary dreams turned into a packed shopping cart and a hefty bill. The menu included steaks (Kosher, of course), potatoes with some herbs, green salad with citrus vinaigrette dressing, and just in case the guy was vegetarian he’d make his stuffed mushrooms, recipe he liked and saw as the ultimate comfort food.
The time was 16:15, the steaks were on the pan and the mushrooms in the oven when he heard a knock at the door.
Dan was surprised, he hadn’t expected his guest to arrive so fast.
He ran to the hallway mirror to look at himself before opening the door, but before making it to the mirror he wondered, why bother? What did it matter how he looked meeting a guy he didn’t know? But for some reason he couldn’t stop the impulse to look himself over.
He studied his reflection: A dark five o'clock shadow decorated his bright face, he hadn’t bothered shaving when he decided to skip the office that day, his hair was behaving, other than a few rebellious locks, and the need for a meeting with his barber was obvious. He wore a white T-Shirt that defined his chest muscles and his abs, which he worked hard on in the gym, and training pants over his bare feet.
The knocking came again and Dan knew that even if he wasn’t completely satisfied with his looks, there was no time for improvement. He want and opened the door.
He found himself looking at a beautiful, young guy; it was a beauty one didn’t get to see every day. Tom was just as tall as him, 6’1, but with broad shoulders and a chest filling out his shirt to perfection. He had an angel’s face of deep bronze, his skin looked like it had been kissed by the sun. He had clear, shiny hazelnut eyes that reflected wisdom, depth and strength, and a crown of long eye lashes curled around each of them. His dark blond hair was trimmed short, military style, and he had a heart-melting smile, baring a row of white bright teeth. He had a shiny bright scar diagonally crossing his right eyebrow, which added so much grace, as if an artist placed it there. All this beauty was covered by a thin layer of soldiering dust that only made the beauty stand out even more.
But what captivated Dan the most was the dimple in his cheek when he smiled, his curved smile was the highlight! Perfect bone structure, Dan thought to himself.
“It’s nice to meet you. I'm Tom.” The soldier offered his big palm to Dan and he did it with the smile that was there since Dan opened the door.
Dan took his hand and shook it. The warm grasp, strong and rugged, felt different. Handshakes in the business world were always only with the hands: weak, strong, wet, dry, quick, or long shakes, Dan knew the whole spectrum, but none of them felt as personal as this one.
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I'm Dan, come on in.”
Tom entered and took around the house. Dan stood by him and felt the blow to his senses at having his personal space invaded.
Tom was covered with dust and his duffel bag, which was still hanging on his shoulders, looked like a giant turtle shell. He smelled like a soldier: dust, sweat, grease, little hints of cologne left over after shaving in the morning, and another smell hiding under layers of roughness, the unique scent of man. This blend struck Dan intensely, like a wave of memory, it immediately took him back to his service days, and for some reason he was excited. He was excited by the memories that came calling, excited by the young man’s presence.
“Come sit, Tom, peel off that duffel bag, and get comfortable. We can sit in the dining room.”
Tom didn’t move. “I'm afraid to make a mess, or break a vase or something.”
“I think cleanliness is overrated, and you can break all the vases you want. I'll even be happy if you can help cut down on some of the clutter.”
Dan made some effort to make Tom feel comfortable and he was surprised at himself, how important it was for him to wear a kind face for this stranger, whom he’d just met.
He was rewarded with a huge smile from Tom, and then he noticed Tom not only smiled with his mouth, but with his eyes, too. Right when he thought this young man couldn’t be any more beautiful he found out that life is full of surprises.
“If you’re into breaking vases I don’t mind giving you a hand, we can set up some sort of ‘vase range’ on the wall in the back,” Tom suggested. Dan was impressed that the guy was quick to catch and analyze his surroundings. He’d already figured the house’s layout with only a quick glance.
Tom carefully took his duffel bag off, even though Dan had given him permission to break stuff, he wouldn’t really dare to do it.
Tom was astounded by the perfect man who opened the door for him. Older by at least ten years, but not a haggard old man, more like a sexy movie star. Dan’s beauty struck him hard. Sculptured manly face, high cheek bones, strong chin and a classic straight nose. All of these together gave Dan a look that reminded Tom of Michelangelo’s sculptures. He radiated force and charisma, but… there was something broken and sad behind his blue eyes. The moment Tom looked into those eyes, he knew he was looking into a raging ocean, and there was nothing he wanted more than to jump into the waves. Shit, I’m in trouble, he thought to himself. How could he function comfortably around such an attractive, straight man? It would require some effort.
Tom thought of Shai’s fantasy and smiled to himself. But then he pushed the thoughts away, he knew Dan was straight, he’d just gotten divorced, after all. There was no point in breaking his own heart with false hopes. He looked at Dan and couldn’t help but wonder why this perfect man looked broken and bitter, and so out of place among his own belongings.
“What would you like to drink? Hot? Cold?” asked Dan while walking towards the kitchen.
“Water, Coke, beer?”
“A beer would be good, thank you.”
Dan, going to the kitchen, took the opportunity to turn off the gas under the steaks and check on the oven. He gave Tom a bottle of beer and opened one for himself, then sat on the chair in front of him.
They looked at each other and took a sip of the beer, Tom didn’t seem uncomfortable looking into Dan’s eyes and staying there, but Dan was uncomfortable, and he found himself looking at the cold water drops accumulating on the bottle in his hand.
“So tell me something about yourself,” Dan opened.
Tom took another sip and began.
“My name is Tom Freeman. I was born in Israel twenty-three years ago, my parents named me Tomer after my dad’s brother, who died in the First Lebanon War in 1982. When I was eleven we left for Texas; my dad’s an engineer and he got a job there. Today my parents live in Kansas City.”
He took another sip, stopped for a moment, and checked how attentive to the story Dan was being. Dan’s beautiful blue eyes were staring right at him, full of curiosity and expectation, so he kept going.
“Tomer, in Texas, didn’t really work out, I mean, try saying ‘Tomer’ in a Texan accent, it sounds along the lines of 'Tomew',” he demonstrated with a smile, and Dan smiled back.
“Anyway, it shortens to ‘Tom’, so in America my name’s ‘Tom’, but the guys in the unit call me ‘Texas’.”