by Ilana Cohen
It happened at that exact moment, a powerful outburst of light flashed from beyond the sea, from the opposite shore, from the Tel Aviv promenade, everyone had noticed it.
“What was it?” they asked, but none of them knew yet. The conversation round the table became lively again when another disturbing sound was heard from the edge of darkness. It was Nina shouting, not at the waiter this time, but into her cell phone.
“Where are you, Misha? At the promenade, what happened?! Bodies everywhere? There was an enormous explosion?! Blood spilled on the pavements, body parts strewn all around!!!” she screamed and cried at the same time. Everyone held their breaths, got up with serious expressions on their faces and went to her.
“Hello, hello, Misha, Misha! Can you hear me, Misha!!!” she screamed hysterically, but the call was disconnected.
“There was an explosion, an explosion, Misha called…” Nina stared at everyone with horror. “Misha called… but where is Karen, where is my baby girl, oh no, no! My little baby girl!”
The women held their sister in their arms and raised her on her feet before she would collapse from the shock of the terrible realization.
“Take Nina home, I’m going there,” Alex took control and began to manage the grief stricken family.
“I’m not going to let you go there by yourself, we’re all coming with you,” Julia hurried to protect her dear one.
“Kola and the boys will come with me. You girls take Nina home and take good care of her,” Alex determined decisively.
“I’m not going home, I’m not leaving, I want my girl, my Karen…” Nina cried hysterically. Without another word, Alex went to the cash register at the coffee shop bar and paid the bill. Then three family vehicles headed into the night, to the scene of the crime.
The terrorist attack had taken place on Friday night, at the entrance of a Tel Aviv beach dance club. The dance club was fairly popular, especially among teenagers from the former Soviet Union. On Friday nights, the club was always packed with people. A Palestinian terrorist had arrived at the club and mingled with the young people standing in line to get inside.
“I also love to dance, I really love dancing,” said a fair haired young man who was standing in line with everyone else, then blew himself up. The large charge, which included shrapnel and sharp metal objects, caused the immediate death of seventeen teenagers; four others later died from their injuries. A hundred and twenty more teenagers suffered various injuries. A sense of deep mourning settled over the community of Russian immigrants, especially those who had known the murdered and injured children.
The next morning, a crowd of angry young Israelis demonstrated close to the terrorist attack location. The leaders of Israel decided not to initiate a military response to the terrorist attack. The Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon, decided to avoid a military response and coined his famous saying, “Restraint is also a demonstration of power.”
Edith waited for her Alex, but he didn’t show up anymore. He didn’t call, didn’t take any interest in her and didn’t come to visit. Not a week later and not after that. In a single moment in which she had demonstrated a lack of control in love, everything slipped from her control. In order to overcome the insult and maintain her ego and pride, she made a psychotic move and sealed a heart filled with love.
To be continued…
* * *
[1] Little boy
[2] Come on, come on, little boy, let’s continue.
[3] Speaking, yes.
[4] Motherland
[5] Norilsk warehouses.