by Odeda Yaari
Matan ran straight to her arms, roaring with joy, and instantly transformed the mood in the house. She held him tight, receiving her own identity back from him, a feeling she only felt when she was with Matan.
“Let’s wake up daddy,” she whispered to him.
Matan laughed and ran straight to Garry, jumping on top of him with battle cries. Sophie let out a liberating laugh. Garry was wide awake at once. He put aside the paper and, after squeezing Matan in a bear hug, got up and went to give Sophie a kiss. She gave in to his embrace, knowing he would always be there for her, trying to get something from him, some identity, some sense of fullness she couldn’t quite name.
Garry pulled her closer. He missed her and was tired of waiting, but knew he always would. Garry knew he was Sophie’s anchor, her solid ground, her comfort, the home she had yearned for, the frame to the picture she thought she dreamed of. But once that anchor had been set in the ground and the picture frame was complete, she had begun to feel suffocated. Garry sensed the wild parts of her taking over once again. He may have been able to provide her with a frame, but the picture remained empty and hollow.
12
Lights were on till late into the night at the chambers of the minister of agriculture. The minister, Abraham, sat at the big desk by himself. He held his head in his hands and was breathing heavily. How did I get myself into this mess? he kept asking himself.
He had been trying to find a solution to the problem he was facing for several hours now, knowing his entire political future was hanging in the balance. The minister couldn’t understand how this affair from his past had resurfaced all of a sudden, from back when he was an emissary of the Ministry of Agriculture in third-world countries. But right now, he had to find a last-minute solution, or come up with reasonable explanations for the affair. Otherwise, in a week and a half, he was going to star in the cover story of one of the country’s biggest newspaper’s holiday issue, which would destroy his political status.
Ten years ago, he had been sent by the Ministry of Agriculture to assist third-world countries in a special UN project. His job was to promote the development of the failing agriculture in Colombia. He taught the villagers modern work methods and acquainted them with new crops. Abraham was a gifted young guide back then—freshly out of the kibbutz and without a penny to his name—who saw the mission as a chance to get ahead in life and see the world for a bit.
In the meeting he held with the Colombian minister of agriculture as he entered the job, he found a willing listener, enthusiastic support, and full backing of his work. In the first few months of staying in Colombia, he spent his time training a staff of local guides who were meant to join him out in the field.At first, everything went smoothly. Abraham traveled in his rickety old car from village to village with the team of guides and modern agricultural methods, trying to teach the simple peasants, while attempting to modify the composition of the crops in the fields. The formal purpose, one that had been described in his letter of appointment before he had left Israel, was to bring the villagers to a situation where they would swap the drug crops for crops that would allow them to have a self-reliant existence, without being subject to the pressures of the drug lords. The farmers seemed interested in the new ideas he and the other guides presented. Abraham and the guides even provided them with seeds and plants and promised to return in a few months, to see their progress and offer more advice.When he returned, Abraham was stunned to see that none of the steps had been implemented. A few of the farmers had turned the little patches of earth next to their meager cabins into productive vegetable gardens, but the fields remained as they were, covered in marijuana and coca bushes. When he asked the guides for an explanation, they kept straight faces and refused to answer.
Abraham returned to his superior in Colombia, the minister of agriculture, and presented him with the disappointing data. In a talk they had in the minister’s fancy offices in Bogota, the minister seemed shocked and disappointed.
“This cannot be. The villagers are so poor and are suffering so much. I can’t understand what their motive for not cooperating could be.”
After a long talk, when he realized he wasn’t going to get any clear answer, he informed the minister that unfortunately he would have to hand in a detailed report to his superiors—the UN committee, which had sponsored the project and the Israeli Ministry of Agriculture—about why he had failed to make any progress.
The minister did not respond. They shook hands and the meeting was over.
That same evening, Abraham received a mysterious telephone call, inviting him to have a drink at a hotel bar in the city. The strange invitation left him no option to refuse, and to be precise, sounded more like an order than a request.
Waiting for him at the bar was a man he had never met before. He was tall and handsome and wore a smart, well-tailored suit. Not far from him sat two burly men who seemed out of place, but kept their eyes on him at all times, and Abraham had no doubt they were the man’s bodyguards.
In a thorough briefing that had been held at the Ministry of Agriculture and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs before he had left for Colombia, Abraham had been given an idea of the strength and domination of the drug lords. Despite being a young and quiet naive kibbutz boy, Abraham understood that the man sitting before him must have gotten an urgent call from the Colombian minister, and was probably the representative of one of the tough drug lords he had heard about. Cold sweat started trickling down his forehead. Now, he thought to himself, he’ll probably ask me to step outside, murder me, and dump my body somewhere to rot, and no one will ever know what happened to me. He wiped his sweaty palm on his pants, trying to disguise his nervousness before holding it out for a shake.The man was direct and to the point. He saw how nervous Abraham was, but pretended not to notice.
“My name is Santo, and I am thankful that you could come meet me on such short notice,” he said. “I believe we can come to a mutual understanding and find a common interest that will benefit both sides.”
“I don’t know you,” Abraham played dumb. “And I fail to see what interest we could have in common.”
“The interest is money. You make your conclusions disappear and Santo will ensure that first, no harm comes to you and that second, your second year here will be an extremely pleasant one. I promise it’ll be worth your while. When the two years pass, if you keep your side of the agreement, Santo will have a handsome sum of money deposited to your account. That should make up for the inconvenience and professional discomfort. I believe,” he went on in a slightly more menacing tone, “that any other option will be much less pleasant for you.”
Abraham felt he had lost his ability to talk, and all he could do was nod in agreement.“My people will be in touch,” said Santo, and he left with the two other men.
Indeed, the second year of Abraham’s mission was filled with luxuries he had never experienced before. He made connections with powerful, influential people, traveled to several other countries in the area, was invited to important functions, and led a life of comfort. In return, he sent Israel and the UN reports that the project was moving ahead pleesingly.At the end of his mission, he returned to Israel and became a successful businessman, dealing with agricultural equipment. No one bothered to find out how a penniless ex-kibbutz man had managed to accumulate so much wealth and property, and to gain such political influence in the agricultural areas, becoming friends with the richest, most powerful people in Israel. And from there, it was only natural that a few years later he was asked by the agricultural lobbyists to represent them in the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, and later as a minister.
A judge friend of Abraham had unexpectedly reminded him about the drug affair, when he’d asked Abraham to invest in what he called Anti-Drug and to allocate a certain amount of money toward the project from the Ministry of Agriculture’s research fund.Abraham liked the idea, and believed this would be his sweet revenge against the aggressive men who had gotten him into the situa
tion he was in now. So, to the judge’s great surprise, he consented to funding the project without asking too many questions.If I couldn’t fight the drug crops when I was young and naive, he thought, now when I have power and influence I’ll be able to hit back.
At around two in the morning, Abraham felt there was no way out, and reluctantly decided to contact his Colombian “friends” to see how they could help him. He had made it a point of not keeping in touch with them for the past few years, to avoid any unnecessary questions. But now with the threat of the article hanging over his head, he thought perhaps they, with their branches of influence, would be able to assist. He remembered Santo’s words about a “common interest,” and thought it might be time to put them to the test.
13
At around noon, the phone in Ron’s office rang. Yossi was on the other end. Surprisingly, he had been calling a lot lately.
“Hey, it’s me again. Hope I’m not bothering you like yesterday.”Ron smiled to himself. Today he wasn’t on edge, and Yossi was one of the few people he had something resembling a normal friendship with. He had been deeply disappointed when he’d heard Yossi had decided to try his luck in the American corporation instead of joining his and David’s initiative. And now there was a chance he would come back to them. Or at least that’s the impression he got from their frequent conversations over the past few weeks.
“How’s work at the new company? Are you starting to feel a bit better there? You haven’t really told me what it is you’re working on there.” These were some of the questions Ron meant to ask Yossi, but instead what came out was what he really wanted to know. “So, have you decided to come back to Israel and join us after all?”
“It’s a bit tricky, Ron. You know what my dad is like. He thinks he knows what’s best for me and gets me the best jobs. He’d go to the end of the world for me, even though he forgets to ask if that’s what I want. And then, after all his troubles, I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s too hard or it isn’t what I want,” said Yossi bitterly. He talked some more about the company he was working for, the research division he’d joined, and the less-than-welcoming response to his arrival by the rest of the team, but made sure not to say what the research was about.
Ron listened, sympathizing with Yossi’s pain and his feelings toward his father. He also understood when he talked about the social ostracizing. Ron knew perfectly well what it felt like to be in that position. Perhaps that was why he had opened up to Yossi when they’d first spoken, almost a month ago, and told him how they’d flipped the purpose of the company upside-down. Yossi had been part of their decision to start a company that would work with the drug organizations to try and find a way to enhance the production of narcotic substances in plants. Ron thought it made sense to tell him about their decision to develop the exact opposite formula.
“Yossi, like I said yesterday—and I’m sorry for being impatient—you’re welcome to join our little family. David and I see you as an integral part of the initial development, even though we are now very far from that.”
“How far have you come, Ron? What part of the plant have you been working on?”
“You know I can’t say. But I can say, very proudly, that we’re only one step away from making the dream a reality. We already found the way to create Anti-Drug. Now there are only some minor technical issues, which I believe we’ll work out soon enough. Although we could use some fresh blood, someone who can look at things from a new perspective.”
“So, you really are on the right path, huh?” said Yossi, wishing he could squeeze more information out of Ron, preferably something more useful. He tried to come off casually because he really did care for Ron, and decided to drop the issue.
“So why were you so on edge yesterday? Anything interesting?”
“I see you can read right through me even from way over there. Yes, very interesting, actually. I met this amazing woman. We have only been on two dates so far, but we have this ‘click’ between us. I was anxious to see her again. Yossi, she’s the woman of my dreams. She’s amazing—smart, funny, sexy. I can’t wait to call her again.”
“Take things slowly. Don’t let her see you’re too excited,” said Yossi, all the while thinking to himself that he knew no more about women than Ron did, but not wanting to see him get hurt. He was truly happy for Ron.
“Yes, I guess you’re right. I hope I can restrain myself,” said Ron, thinking he mustn’t put too much pressure on Dana, and already deciding that although he desperately wanted to call her, he might put it off till tomorrow.“Ron, I’m sorry but I have to go. I have to get back to work. Anyway, thanks for your offer. I’m still thinking about it. You’re welcome to call if you just want to talk.”
Yossi hung up, listening to the nervous finger-drumming from across the table that had accompanied the entire conversation.“Sir, he didn’t give me any more details than we already know. They are at a very advanced stage, and they’re only one step away from solving the puzzle.”“What exactly is he talking about?” asked Bob Carrigan impatiently, trying his best to be nice. “Is he referring to a missing formula? To the introduction of genes into the plants? To information about the optimal conditions of the plants themselves?”
“I don’t know, Bob. He just wouldn’t say. I’m guessing they’re done with the stage of gene introduction. I know them, I worked with them for several years.”Bob said nothing. He held his head in his hands and shook it in despair. This brilliant man, who had been in charge of the development of hundreds of patents, was feeling dependent for the first time in his life on the work of another scientist. A kid.When the new guy, Joseph, had knocked on his door for the first time, he’d barely lifted his head from his work, and said in an apathetic voice, “Good morning. I hope you have a very good reason for disturbing me, because as I said yesterday I am extremely busy.”Bob didn’t know the new guy. He knew Joseph was a doctor of molecular biology and genetic engineering and that he had been “parachuted” into the research division under instructions from high up. Someone had pulled some strings and Bob was ordered to give him the job. His good references and his diploma of excellence served as an honorable entry ticket, except it was clear that much more was needed in order to get into the research team at APC.
Bob knew vaguely that the new guy’s father had acted as the Israeli intelligence attaché at the Washington embassy for a long period. During his work, Joseph’s father had met the company’s vice president, who at the time held an important position in the CIA. Bob never asked about the nature of the acquaintance and had simply accepted the order to employ Joseph. He was impatient and wasn’t really interested in what the young man had to say.Joseph had finally won his attention when he said, “I have important information about our development. There’s a startup company working in Israel. I happen to know the owners, and they’re working on the same development we are.” Bob straightened up in his chair and devoted his full attention to Joseph.“The company is at a very advanced stage. In fact, I spoke with the ‘brains’ behind the invention just yesterday. He says they are just days away from success.”
Bob was silent. He could see right before his eyes two years of hard work going down the drain, just two months before reaching the finish line, which at the moment he wasn’t even sure they would be able to reach.
This had been Joseph’s third call to Ron attempting to get a sense of the field, trying to acquire information about R. D. Development’s work. No one knew about this except for Fiona and Bob, and they made sure to keep completely quiet about the whole thing. They were risking industrial espionage and they knew it.
The secretive behavior and the desire to reach a solution at any cost were not at all compatible with Bob’s otherwise easygoing temperament. But lately he was acting completely unlike himself. He started raising his voice at senior scientists in the project’s research team and would shut himself in his office, analyzing the numbers over and over. Now any interaction he had with the other staff members w
as through Fiona, and everyone found that odd, since in the past his door had always been open to them.
After each one of Joseph’s conversations with Ron, Bob had hoped for some lifeline, some fragment of a sentence like, “He’s willing to jump on a plane and join us at APC.” But that never came.
***
Ron got off the phone with Yossi and was left with a strange feeling. He was happy to hear from his friend, but something didn’t make sense. This had been the third time now that Ron had offered for Yossi to join their ranks, and each time it seemed for a moment as if Yossi were about to accept, but then he would immediately back down. Ron felt Yossi was unsure of himself and perhaps worried about transferring to a small, new company whose success was uncertain. Perhaps that’s why he’s asking all these questions about our progress? To be sure he’s not gambling away a perfectly good job, thought Ron.
He remembered that day when they had decided—he, David, and Yossi—to do what no one expected of them. The sons of a county judge, an intelligence attaché in Washington, and a successful psychologist with her own radio show knew they had struck gold. Their development, which had started as a harmless intellectual exercise, was now emerging as the hand that was going to shuffle the deck of the international drug market, with all the implied consequences. They were ready to head toward a risky, unknown future—but also one that would be unimaginably lucrative. The three of them had never rebelled against conventions as kids, or played any dangerous games as teenagers, which was probably why this idea appealed to them so much. The chance to make money and earn respect from the very types of people who used to look down at them as kids was childishly enticing.Ron took a deep breath, glad that their original plan had not been acted upon. Now he was older and more mature, and no longer felt the need for a sweet “revenge of the nerds,” but he did seek worldwide recognition and a true possibility to change the world for the better. More than that, he wished for the recognition and love of his parents. And now, a new desire was added—he hoped for the recognition of one smart, special woman. He wanted to live a pleasant, peaceful, normal life, without having to take part in the world of crime.