Until Sweet Death Arrives

by Amnon Binyamini

  Nahum had begun to wander around the office and Walf went and stood in front of him.

  “Mr. Peterson, the great journalist! You can’t write any more articles about people. You can’t do any harm now, can you, great journalist, Peterson? People don’t have to be afraid of you now.”

  Wolf smiled at the sick man standing before him, staring into space.

  “You can’t write about me, great journalist Peterson, so I don’t have to be afraid of you, do I?” he said and burst out laughing.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Edna and Gilat sat rigidly staring ahead as the car bumped along the sand road, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Michael was in the back seat, withdrawn and silent. Edna had woken him from a deep sleep, hammering on the door of his apartment, urging him to hurry and come with her to get Nahum out of Yochevet House and bring him home. He was too bewildered by her panic to question her at the time, but now, almost at their destination, he stirred himself.

  “What’s going on, Mrs. Edna? Have you found out something about Yochevet House? Why are we in such a hurry to get Mr. Nahum?”

  Edna was in no mood to explain. Her attention was fixed on the road ahead and the coming encounter with the doctor. She answered abruptly, “I haven’t learned anything new about the place and that’s the problem, Michael. There’s no information to be found anywhere about the institution or the doctor.”

  “I thought it was good. Mr. Nahum’s room is very nice and Dr. Wolf handled Mr. Nahum very well.”

  Edna resisted the urge to tell him not to interfere. Instead, she said, “You won’t understand, Michael. It’s a matter of feminine intuition.”

  They drove on in silence. Edna felt as if the trees on either side of the road were closing her in and the road would never end.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Look at me, great journalist, Nahum Peterson! Take a good look at me!”

  Nahum answered with his expressionless stare.

  “Remember me? Do you know who I am? You got me into a lot of trouble! You disgraced me. Back then, when you had a healthy mind. Everything was going very well for me. But after I met you, my life became hell. My life became boring. I’ve been living on memories of the past ever since, and you’re going to pay for what you did, Journalist Peterson. I’m going to destroy what’s left of your miserable life!”

  Nahum wandered aimlessly around the room, hearing nothing. He was an empty shell. He was empty and extinguished. He legs were morning legs, the legs after a night’s sleep, legs that were impelled by a mindless need to walk and wander. Legs that were his last remaining means of expression.

  “So, you want to walk around, do you?” said Wolf. “You want to give your legs a purpose? Those legs disconnected from your dead mind? Come on, then. Let’s put an end to this, Nahum Peterson the great journalist!”

  Wolf took Nahum’s unresisting hand and led him quickly to the stairs.

  “Come along, come along!” Wolf said. “Time to go. We’re going up to the roof, now.”

  He moved the wooden barrier aside and pulled Nahum after him, “Let’s go, Stupid! Dummy! Idiot! One more thing to do before I get out of here!”

  Nahum was unaware of Wolf and the torrent of words flowing from his mouth. He hurried up to the open roof, drawn by the bright sun that was enchanting the last remaining cells of his brain. He hurried eagerly towards the death trap waiting for him. The trap so painstakingly planned for him by Wolf, for so many years.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The three police cars were approaching the isolated building. Chief Inspector Hanoch ordered the drivers to slow down and turn off their engines before rolling to a stop at a point where the trees concealed their presence. The plan was for the police to surround the house and take up strategic positions, after which Sheila would go to the door, accompanied by the Chief Inspector, in plain clothes. They would ask to speak to Dr. Zeev Wolf. Then, according to plan, Sheila would identify him as the man who had cheated her out of her money; and the Chief Inspector would arrest him. Should he try to escape, Dr. Zeev Wolf would be met by the police lying in wait for him outside. The young woman with the thick braid would also be taken into custody.

  “I wonder if three carloads of police will be enough to get those crooks,” said Sheila.

  The driver sitting next to her made a sarcastic comment to the effect that maybe she wanted the whole police force to come and catch the man who had cheated her out of her money.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” she answered.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  The roof had neither wall nor railing. Its dazzling whitewashed surface seemed to invite the unrestrained rambling that Nahum’s feet desired.

  Wolf, still holding Nahum’s hand, said, “Okay, okay, in a moment. Be patient, Peterson, the great idiot. I’ll let you wander to your death in just a moment.”

  Nahum’s eager body pulled against Wolf’s restraining hand.

  “Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?” Wolf laughed. “Just a minute, just wait!” he said, laughing even louder. “But how can you remember me, you miserable fool? Take a good look. Look at me in the face!”

  Suddenly, Wolf lifted his free hand and tugged at his blonde hair. It was a wig and it came off to reveal his own black hair.

  “Now do you recognize me?”

  Nahum circled around Wolf, who still held him in his strong grip. Nahum clearly wanted nothing more than to wander off; but Wolf needed more, even though no response was forthcoming from the destroyed mind of the hated journalist. He wanted to converse with him even though their eyes never met.

  “Look at me, now, you mindless thing! Doesn’t your dead brain recognize the man you persecuted in your articles? Me? You don’t recognize me?”

  Nahum froze, his eyes riveted to the mouth of the black-haired man yelling at him. Then he resumed his circular pacing around Wolf, who screamed into his ear, “Stand still! Listen! I had to escape to Canada because of you. Because of Eviatar’s letter, remember? Remember me, stupid? Remember Nimrod? Me?”

  Nahum halted. Possibly because Nimrod pulled him to a stop.

  “I am Nimrod. Yes, Nimrod. You banished me. To Canada. It’s me.” His voice was quiet as he spoke these words to Nahum, or was he speaking to himself?

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Gilat stopped the car. She had caught sight of the police cars among the trees.

  “What’s going on?” she asked her mother. “What are those police cars doing here?”

  Edna’s eyes were on the three-storey house at the end of the dirt road and all she could think of was her poor, sick husband. Gilat’s question startled her.

  “What? Where do you see police cars?”

  She looked where Gilat was pointing and saw them – three cars among the trees and policemen lying in ambush, facing Yochevet House. She got out of the car. “What are you doing here?” Her heart was pounding. The policeman motioned her to keep quiet.

  “Get back in your car,” he ordered quietly. “The whole area is surrounded. We’re in the middle of a raid to catch a criminal.”

  “Criminal? What’s a criminal doing here?”

  “Keep your voice down!” said the policeman sharply.

  “I insist on knowing what’s going on!” Edna whispered furiously. “I’m not leaving. My husband’s in there. It’s a private home for Alzheimer’s patients.”

  The policeman decided to explain why they were there, rather than have her ruin the operation by marching up to the house, as she seemed about to do.

  “The director of this place, Dr. Zeev Wolf, is a dangerous criminal. Now that you know, turn around and get out of here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. My poor husband, my Nahum’s inside there, under Dr. Wolf’s care. He’s totally helpless. I don’t give a damn about your operation. Nobody’s going to stop me from going to my hu
sband!”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Sheila and Chief Inspector Hanoch walked up to the building. There was no sound inside and no movement at the windows. Sheila rang the doorbell. When there was no response to her repeated rings, she put her finger on the bell and held it there.

  Eventually, a woman shouted from a third floor window, “Who’s there?”

  “I’ve come to talk about placing my father in your institution,” said Sheila, “Please open the door.”

  “Wait there.”

  Nothing happened. Nobody appeared. Sheila rang the bell again.

  “Lady, there are no vacancies at the moment. Try again next week.”

  “Are you prepared to open the door for a minute?”

  In answer, the woman shouted, “I’m in the middle of bathing a woman. I can’t leave her.

  Come back later.”

  Sheila looked enquiringly at the Chief Inspector, who said, “Stay here. I’ll go round the back and see if I can find a way in. If anybody tries to get out, start shouting.”

  For the first time since she began looking for Shuni, she was afraid. She suddenly realized that things were not as simple as she thought. She was aware of danger.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Stupid, dummy, idiot. We have to finish the job. I’ve got to get out of here.” Nahum was still circling Nimrod, who never let go of his hand.

  Nimrod laughed at him, “Dumb journalist, now when I let your hand go, go on spinning, you fool, you’ve got plenty of space, spin away, wander off; you can walk and walk as far as you like!”

  Nimrod laughed again. His roar of uncontrollable laughter rang out, filled the air. He released Nahum’s hand, let the wandering fool roam around the roof without any supervision.

  Nahum walked. He circled Nimrod like an orbiting planet and the louder Nimrod shouted, the faster Nahum paced. With his eyes on Nahum’s feet, Nimrod urged, “Walk! Walk, stupid! Walk to your death!”

  He directed his hair-raising laugh at Nahum, but Nahum did not flinch, he merely walked in ever widening circles around Nimrod. When Nimrod left the center of the invisible circle, still laughing wildly, Nahum continued to walk alone on the roof. He was still walking when Nimrod left and locked the door behind him. Nahum walked wherever his feet took him on the white expanse of the roof, without a wall or a railing to stop him from falling to his death.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Chief Inspector Hanoch walked around the house and found a window at the back. He pushed against the frame and the window creaked open. A few seconds later, he was standing in a small, empty room which, on further inspection, opened into a passage ending in a flight of steps. At the sound of shouts, he drew his pistol and cautiously climbed the stairs until he reached the second floor, where the shouts could now be clearly distinguished as a repetition of the words, “Food. I want food.”

  Concluding that the shouter was not in any immediate danger, Chief Inspector Hanoch continued up the stairs to the third floor, where he heard the voice of an old woman singing in a room down the passage. Approaching the room, he recognized the song as one his mother used to sing to him when he was a boy, “Rachel, Rached, your light will shine.”

  With silent expertise, he opened the door. The room was empty except for a pink plastic doll. When he picked it up, he was that the song was emerging from a speaker in its chest. He hurried down to the second floor room from which the cries of “Food. I want food” could still be heard. Here he found another doll, a man-doll with a note pinned to its chest: “Fuad.” Like the doll upstairs, this one was playing a taped message.

  The Chief Inspector ran from room to room in the deserted house. He realized that someone wanted to distract him and that whoever it was, was playing for time.

  He saw the broken barrier at the foot of the stairs leading to the roof and dashed up to the door at the head of the stairs. It was locked and he could not break it open, no matter how much force he applied. He put his eye to the keyhole and saw a stooped, elderly man walking on the rooftop in agitated, compulsive circles.

  A flock of birds flew overhead. The man stopped and looked up. Hanoch angled his face to get a better view through the keyhole, which enabled him to see that the man was standing near the edge of the roof and that there was no wall or railing to stop him from falling off. He spoke quietly into his radio, “Hanoch speaking. There’s no sign of Dr. Wolf. The building is deserted except for a man on the roof looking up at the sky. He’s probably the Alzheimer’s patient those people were talking about. I won’t risk breaking down the door. The man could fall off the roof if I alarm him. Send a team through the back window to find blankets to catch him in case of emergency. Meanwhile, send backup to the roof immediately. Time’s running out. Over and out.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Edna was arguing with the police officer who was refusing to allow her to get close to Yochevet House, when the call came through from the Chief Inspector. Edna heard every word, including the description of the man on the roof and the danger that he might fall if he was alarmed in any way.

  Her heart raced and she froze for an instant before breaking into a run, with Gilat and Michael on her heels. One of the policemen tried to stop them, but Edna shoved him aside, shouting as she ran, “It’s my husband. He has Alzheimer’s, he could walk right off that roof!”

  The police officer waved to his men to let her pass. By now, some of the police were rushing up the stairs to the roof while others were stretching blankets at strategic points, to break Nahum’s fall, if necessary.

  The fire brigade was on its way with rescue equipment, including a trampoline.

  The door to the roof swung open at a single shot and the squad of policemen were on the roof in an instant, together with Edna, Gilat and Michael. Nahum ignored the people stealthily forming a barrier between him and the edge of the roof. His eyes were fixed on the flock of birds wheeling overhead, tracking the movement with the rotation of his head. It was as if there was only one, mindless man in the universe and a mute flock of birds diving into the clouds, fading into the blue sky, surging and swooping until they vanished in the distance, leaving the lone figure on the white rooftop, with his head lifted to look upwards. As soon as the birds were gone, Nahum let his head sink to his chest as he began to move again in the elliptical orbit that at times carried him almost over the edge. The next time this happened, the policemen had placed themselves in readiness to pounce and pull him back, while Edna stepped slowly towards him.

  “Nahum. Stop for a second. Look at me,” she said quietly, forcing herself to smile, to hide the tremor in her voice.

  Nahum did not look at her, nor did he stop walking.

  Michael intervened, “Mr. Nahum, be understanding. I’m asking you. Be listening. What you’re doing is dangerous. Stand still, please, Mr. Nahum.”

  Nahum turned his head, as if he understood who was talking to him. He saw Michael and gave him an angry look. Seeing her husband’s stormy face, Edna wanted to tell Michael to keep quiet, to stay out of it. But she was too late.

  “Mr. Nahum,” Michael shouted at the sick man, “come to us. This roof is dangerous; it has no railing. You’ll fall. Come, Mr. Nahum, we’ll take you home.” He held out his hand and began to move closer to Nahum, who watched him with frightened eyes and stepped backwards.

  Gilat screamed in fear, “Michael. Stop. What are you doing? Do you want Daddy to fall?”

  Her shout made Nahum cringe, but he continued to retreat towards the edge. Michael, obeying Gilat, stood where he was. A few more steps would carry Nahum over the edge.

  “Grab him!” Edna exclaimed in alarm.

  A policeman threw himself at Nahum, knocking him off his feet. Nahum tried to shake the policeman off him as he lay on the sun-warmed surface of the roof and two policemen threw themselves on top of the struggling figures and Nahum stopped resisting. Edna broke through the people pi
led on top of her husband and leaned over him, taking his face in her hands. She kissed him over and over again, murmuring comforting words. His face expressed absolute bewilderment, absolute terror.

  The policeman stood watching them, relief and an occasional wet eye making their feelings clear. Edna helped Nahum to his feet and, surrounded by policemen, they left the rooftop. Gilat gave him a tentative kiss on the forehead and Edna said that she need not hold back.

  “He’s very confused, mother,” Gilat said, “I don’t want to add to his stress. Let him calm down now.”

  Edna paid no attention to her and continued to hug her husband. He remained indifferent.

  Michael kept his distance. Speaking very softly he said, “Mr. Nahum, it’s all my fault. You almost fell off the roof. It’s all my fault.” He sat wringing his hands, looking at Edna with despair in every line of his face and body.

  A flock of birds soared overhead. Nahum fixed his eyes on them and looked and looked at them.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Sheila was waiting at the front door for the Chief Inspector to return, when she saw a group of policemen making for the back entrance to the building. Running frantically ahead of them were three civilians – two women and a man with a limp. Grabbing one of the policemen by the arm, she asked, “Are you running to catch Dr. Wolf?”

  “There’s somebody on the roof. It isn’t Dr. Wolf. Wolf’s disappeared. Together with his girlfriend. The building’s empty!”

  As he was speaking, a car drove at full speed from behind the house and made for the dirt road leading away from the building. Sheila let go of the policeman’s arm and ran towards the car shouting, “Stop that car! It’s Wolf!”

  A policeman jumped into the road from one of the hidden cars and held up his hand, Driver’s license and ID, please,” he said when the car came to a stop.

  Sheila ran up and looked into the car; her disappointment was beyond words. The occupants of the car were a man with a mane of black hair and a girl with a crew cut. Not blond Dr. Wolf- Shuni.