by Limor Moyal
His American accent wasn’t too strong, but it definitely gave his speech some flavor, and Dan liked the sing-song quality, and the youthful speech. Tom’s rich and polished Hebrew surprised him, and he assumed that the fluency pointed to the man’s intelligence. An assumption that gave Dan a thrill of pleasure.
“So, it’s nice to meet you, Tomer, Tom, Texas Freeman. I'm Just Dan.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, ‘Just Dan’,” Tom grinned.
“How about ‘Tommy’? No one calls you ‘Tommy’?”
“No, I don’t allow it.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with ‘Tommy’? I think it’s a cute name.”
“Cute indeed, but it’s taken,” he said, the grin turning shy. Dan was able to notice the redness sneaking onto Tom’s cheeks.
“Taken how?” Dan asked.
“Taken by who?” answered Tom, who was now completely red-faced.
That was Dan’s cue to change the subject. He felt as if this discussion could get into areas he wouldn’t know how to get out of, at least not now, when they had only just met.
“So what do you do in the army?”
“I was inducted two years ago, volunteered for three full years, which means this is my last one. Basically I serve in an operational unit up north; I can’t really specify what we’re doing there. But since this is my last year, at least we have more flexibility with our leaves and passes.
I can be on active duty for two weeks, or even more if needed, and then I can be home for a few days, which is nice. Of course, given the events with my aunt, ‘home’ means either Kibbutz or the LSC. Not that I have a problem with each of those.”
“Are you on high-risk duty?” Dan asked.
“If you were my dad, I'd say no. But since you're not, I can tell the truth. So yes, the risk level is extremely high!” answered Tom.
“I understand they don’t even know what you do in the army.”
“If they’d known, they’d drag me right back to Kansas by the ears. The fact that I chose to sign up due to being bereaved is hard enough for them as it is.”
“You don’t plan on going back to the U.S after you’re finished with the army?”
“I prefer staying here, I graduated from college before I enlisted, so I'm thinking about studying after the army, but I really don’t know what’ll happen. My parents are determined to have me back, I have a twin sister there, and I still haven’t really found my place here in Israel. Still no anchor, other than the army, and I'll be done with that in a year.” He went quiet and took a sip of his beer.
Dan had a million more questions. But he felt as if the conversation between them was starting to sound a bit like an interview, and that’s not where he wanted things to go. Failure is not an option was echoing in his head. He took a sip, got up, and stretched.
“So, are you hungry, Texas?”
“So, that’s it? Now I'm Texas?”
“You could’ve kept it away, but you told me. So deal with the consequences,” Dan answered with a smile.
“Texas is fine, I'm used to it, even though in the beginning it pissed me off thinking I'm named after a state in the U.S. Imagine you’re going to a university abroad and the guys are calling you ‘Herzliya Pituach’.”
Dan laughed out loud, “Not ‘Herzliya Pituach,’ but I could’ve lived with being called ‘Just Dan’.”
Tom smiled. “I'll stick to ‘Just Dan,’ and, about the food, I'm starving and the smells from the kitchen are driving me nuts. I'm nearly drooling on your table.”
“I didn’t know what you might like, so there’s meat, vegetarian, and kosher.”
“I'll eat anything, I don’t keep kosher, I love dead animals on my plate in any possible form or shape, but I’d rather stay away from dairy.”
“Noted!” Dan answered and started setting the table.
Tom devoured everything as if it was his last meal. Dan looked at him with pride and satisfaction and for the first time he felt like he had done something good for someone, and Flora was right when she said it was fulfilling.
“Wow, everything’s so good, this is the best food I've had since I got to Israel.” Tom said with contentment.
“If my competition is battle rations and the cafeteria in the LSC, I'm not sure it’s such a compliment.” Dan stated.
“There were a few restaurants, and hosting families every now and then.”
Tom didn’t mention the aunt from Poria even once, and Dan thought it better not to ask.
“You’re stuffed mushrooms are the bomb, what’s the white sauce on top?”
“Cashew sauce”, answered Dan, “This recipe is my favorite; I'm glad you like it.” And glad he was, seeing Tom savoring his cooking made him happy.
They were done eating, Tom cleared his dishes off the table and started organizing them in the sink.
“Is it okay if I do the dishes? It’s the least I can do after you fed me.”
“You can, if you like fondling porcelain with soap and water, but there’s a dishwasher, so save your energy.”
“Not that soap and fondling sound bad, but I'll go with the second option,” answered Tom, and started packing the dishes into the dishwasher.
The sexual innuendo of Tom’s remark wasn’t lost on Dan, and he realized it made him feel awkward and he didn’t know why. Racy jokes between guys were supposed to be cool, and even act as an icebreaker, but he didn’t feel cool, he felt just the opposite.
Dan didn’t see the need for his guest to clean up after them, but he assumed it was Tom’s way of saying thank you, and he didn’t want to deny him that.
When things were organized, Dan suggested sitting on the back deck. Evening shadows were creeping up, and the mid-October weather called up a chilly wind with the smell of autumn. It was his favorite time of year and he always tried to enjoy these rare evenings before the rains came.
They sat with a few beers and enjoyed just sitting doing nothing.
Unlike staying inside the house, which often left Dan claustrophobic, the yard and the deck were his kingdom, and there he could really relax.
“Tell me a little bit about yourself, ‘Just Dan’, why did you decide to foster a lone soldier all of a sudden?”
Dan questioned whether he should tell him the truth, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to be perceived as self-serving, helping another only to feel better about himself. Suddenly it almost seemed pathetic, while sitting with a person who left everything to serve a country he doesn’t even live in, a country that had taken away his uncle. He realized he’d lost perspective these last few years and meeting Tom was a wakeup call.
"I decided to help those who serve our country. I know I’m not doing much, but you deserve something.”
Tom looked at him, almost disappointed, “And now tell me the truth if you don’t mind, ‘Just Dan’. Don’t get me wrong, I really like it here and you seem like a great guy, but it doesn’t take a genius to see your patriotism for the bullshit it is. I have this feeling you have less charitable reasons than that.”
Dan was taken aback by Tom’s bluntness, but he believed the guy had earned an honest answer.
“Touche!” said Dan and raised his beer towards him, “So prepare for the truth, and don’t say I didn’t warn you, it hurts.”
Tom raised his beer back, smiled, and said, “I think I can handle it.”
Dan sat quietly for a minute and then made his declaration, “Well Tom, I'm rich, depressed and spoiled, and Flora, my stepmother, thought that volunteer work would do me good, and after giving it some thought we decided that poor people aren’t for me, and that spending money isn’t what this is about, and that’s how I got to you Texas!”
Tom couldn’t hold his laughter. “Honesty suits you much better than fake generosity. So what’s the deal with the vases? What did they do wrong?” asked Tom.
“They live here, that’s what they’re doing wrong! And I want them to live somewhere else or not at all! My ex-wife flooded the hou
se with unnecessary crap that I don’t understand who would need or why they would need it. My ex is gone, but the crap’s still here and I can’t stand to look at it!”
Tom cringed at the thought of Dan being married. The thought that this perfect man couldn’t be his, hurt him much more than it should, given the fact that they had just met, but something in the sadness and loneliness that was obviously latched onto Dan’s soul touched Tom. The thought that he could never be the person to banish that loneliness the way he wished to hurt him.
“Are you upset that she’s gone?” asked Tom hesitantly, trying to think of anything but his own feelings.
“What? No!!! I couldn’t be happier. I just think it’d be great if they were gone too, the ‘crap’ I mean,” answered Dan, almost in a panic.
“We can arrange a ‘vase range’ on the wall. And not that I'm a big expert, but I can see tens of thousands worth of stuff here. Clocks, statues, artwork. It’s a shame, sell them on eBay.”
“Great idea! eBay! You’re a genius, Texas. I'm making you my ‘Crap Manager.’ Take it all and sell it on eBay, just make it go away. And take the money from the sales, I don’t want to see a dime of it, and if you say ‘no’ we’re going with a ‘vase range’!”
Tom smiled, “The day hasn’t come when I said ‘no’ to money, and I'm not going to start now. The vases are on me!”
Dan was a little drunk by now, and realized it was his 3rd beer of the night. He liked drinking with Tom and he couldn’t think of the last time he’d been so comfortable in his own skin alongside someone else. It was great to be with someone he felt he could let his guard down around. Other than Mike, and maybe now Flora too, no one gave him such freedom to be himself without an ounce of judgment.
They kept talking, shared stories from each other’s history. Dan told him stories about his army days, and a little about GreenTech, and Tom shared stories from Texas, mostly about his childhood, and settling in the U.S. They were laughing and had another beer, listened to Leonard Cohen caressing them with his tender rugged voice.
Dan was completely at peace and buzzing from the alcohol and Tom’s face held a contented smile.
Leonard was singing Be For Real when Dan looked at the clock hands to find it was almost midnight. No wonder he felt tired and dizzy. He would’ve gone on like that until morning, but he saw the signs of fatigue under Tom’s smiling eyes. The eyes that shone under the moon light.
“Listen Texas, I like you and I'd be happy if you’d…”
He stopped for a moment to organize his thoughts and burp, his needed to clear his head.
“If you’d be my volunteering project or whatever you call it.”
Tom smiled, “Mmmm… Let me think for a moment. You’re offering me an amazing house to come to when I'm on vacation, fantastic food, unlimited beers, and of course a shit load of equipment worth a fortune available to me. I don’t know, tough choice.”
Dan smiled, but deep inside he was disappointed that Tom didn’t mention him in the list he’d made as part of the perks coming with the whole package. He tried not to be offended but withdrew into himself when Tom kept going.
“There might be a lot of advantages to this arrangement, but then again, there’s you I'll have to live with,” said Tom with that magical, killer smile spreading over his face.
Dan rolled his eyes, “Definitely a deal breaker, I'm not sure if it’s worth it! Seriously consider this, Texas.” Sarcasm aside, that’s what Dan wanted to hear. Tom wanted his friendship aside from all the worldly perks of the package, and he felt relieved.
Tom, for his part, didn’t see how he could resist the pull of the other. He knew he’d have to resist the attraction he felt or he’d only end up breaking his own heart.
Tom got up from the chair and stretched out, gave Dan a look full of warmth and affection and said, “Come show me where I'm going to sleep, ‘Just Dan’!”
Dan wobbled down the stairs and Tom followed him and kept him from falling. On the step before the last one, Dan lost his grip and his foot slipped, he felt his body falling straight back onto a wall of muscles, and two strong arms stabilized him. He wanted to stay inside the comforting cocoon and fall asleep in it. He was tired and drunk, but then this unique smell, of cologne and beer and Tom, stole into his nostrils and he immediately stood up and apologized. He was embarrassed and confused, and angry at himself for losing control, even momentarily.
Tom smiled and let go of him, “I see that four bottles of beer is your hard limit.”
“Unlike you, Texas. I don’t think you're familiar with the word ‘limit’!”
“Well, I grew up in the states, beer is like water for me,” he answered with an almost apologetic smile.
Dan gave him a guided tour of the upper floor, as much as he could being intoxicated. “This is your room,” he pointed to the end of the hall, “that’s my bedroom,” his fingers moved 30 degrees to the left, “that’s my office,” the finger moved to the door behind them, “and there, there are more rooms full or crap. Add them to your eBay list, Texas,” Dan finished while pointing to two other doors, “Oh, and another thing, the laundry room is right next to this floor’s shower. Feel free using the machines in there. I have no idea how to use them, but I'm sure you’ll figure it out. Good night Texas”. He turned around, entered his bedroom, fell into the bed as is, and was out.
Dan opened his eyes to blinding light, a killer headache, and a rolling stomach. Hangover from beer? That was new to him. It’s probably my age, he thought while brushing his teeth for three straight minutes, and gargling mouthwash until he felt his inner cheeks catching fire. His aching wisdom tooth reminded him it was still present and accounted for by releasing a wave of pain to add to the morning’s general misery.
He took a shower, shaved, dressed up and felt like he’d been cut in half. His watch told him it was 10:00 am and sent him into a panic. He thought about all the day’s tasks that were waiting for him wondered how he’d ever get them done with such a nasty hangover. And then he remembered last night and how good it felt spending time with Tom.
Tom! He remembered the young soldier that stayed in his guest room and he ran downstairs to meet him.
But Tom wasn’t there. On the dining table he saw a folded piece of paper lying underneath a half-full water glass serving as a paper-weight. He moved the glass, picked up the letter and inside he found two little pills hidden in the paper’s folds, and Tom’s rounded, precise hand writing, Tom had written:
“Good morning, ‘Just Dan,’
I guess that last night’s events are coming back to you in waves. These two pills will make you feel better. I brought them from the states especially for mornings like these, and just like Americans know how to drink, they know how to take care of the hangovers that follow.”
Dan looked at the two white pills, smiled and kept reading.
“I left at 6 am, I had a ride up north I didn’t want to miss, I didn’t want to wake you up (And I didn’t think it’d be possible), so I left without saying goodbye and I'm sorry.
I wanted to thank you for a great evening, a good meal, and excellent company.
I know we decided yesterday that we’re going on with this undefined relationship.
I know you expressed your will to become my “foster family” and I said yes.
So for me, it’s still a yes. But I don’t know if it was the beer talking to me yesterday, or if it was ‘Just Dan.’
Anyway, I'm having a weekend leave Friday to Sunday. I'm waiting for a text from you to know whether I should come to Herzliya Pituach or the LSC.
Have a fantastic day.
Texas.”
Dan took the pills without question, nothing could be worse than the way he felt.
He made himself an extra strong espresso, took a sip of the hot, powerful liquid and wondered if it was the beer speaking.
The answer was clear to him: he’d been drunk, no doubt. But he remembered clearly all of last night’s events, every story, ev
ery smile, every song playing, and every fragment of smell.
He knew that last night, regardless of what would happen in the days to come, would be fixed in his memory as a turning point.
He didn’t know what exactly happened the night before, but it was crystal clear to him, that it was something big.
He ran to his phone so he could text Tom:
Dan: Good morning Texas, thx for the pills.
Tom: So you took the Viagra I left you?
Dan: Hahaha, yeah I took it and by what I'm seeing it’s not working!
Tom: Maybe you should see a doctor, grandpa.
Dan: Let’s put my erection (or lack thereof) aside for a moment and talk about Friday.
Tom: What’s the decision then?
Dan: There’s no decision, I told you last night you’re my lone soldier so you’re coming here!
Tom: If I'm your soldier, then I'm not “lone” anymore - it’s an oxymoron.
Dan: “Smart ass.”
Tom: (:
Tom: Should I bring something?
Dan: Your dirty laundry. I'm guessing you didn’t get to do it yesterday.
Tom: Not really (:, but I left the dirty pile in a big trash bag in the shower room (if all of a sudden you smell a dead cat from there, now you know why).
Dan: So you did know you’ll come back to Pituach, you snake!
Tom: It was a calculated risk.
Dan: Well lucky you, you nailed it this time.
Tom: Or maybe you did, depends how you look at it, if you’d kick me out it would have left you with a dead cat in the guest room.
Dan: (: I'll see you Friday Texas.
Tom: Later, ‘Just Dan’.
Dan had a hard time letting the cell-phone go, to say goodbye to the joy talking with Tom brought him. He didn’t know if it was the chat with Texas or the pills from Texas, but half an hour after he took the white pills, he felt great and a wide smile spread all over his face.
5 Happiness, Home and Soap Bubbles