Two Steps Forward

by Luana Ehrlich

  “I’ve always been skeptical of a judge knowing what’s in a child’s best interests.”

  “Ms. Brooks has been involved in the case from the very beginning, so she said the judge will probably follow her recommendations.”

  “Okay, that’s good.”

  “She also said she’ll need to speak with Eleanor alone and go over some questions with her before she can make her recommendations.”

  Nikki shook her head. “I hate the thought of Eleanor being interrogated by a stranger.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. From what I’ve observed, Eleanor seems to enjoy talking to adults. I don’t think she’ll have any problem with it.”

  Nikki’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t be concerned about subjecting Eleanor to a bunch of questions from someone she doesn’t know?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Well, that’s what it sounded like to me.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Instead, I sat there drinking my coffee and trying to figure out what I’d done to upset her.

  Finally, she looked over at me and said, “You’re not sorry we made the decision to take care of Eleanor, are you?”

  I immediately put down my coffee cup and said, “Are you kidding me? Of course not. I love that little girl.”

  “I love her too, Titus.”

  We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then I smiled and said, “Maybe it’s time for us to talk about what we’re willing to do to make our relationship with Eleanor more permanent.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You mean adopt her?”

  “That depends on Lisa’s mental state, but if Lisa can’t take care of her, that’s what I’m thinking. Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “Yes,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze, “that’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  Now, as we drove up to the guardhouse at the Tzora kibbutz, I questioned whether our breakfast conversation had been more wishful thinking than realistic thinking. Could we really become Eleanor’s parents? Would her grandmother agree to that?

  We were about to find out.

  * * * *

  We had no difficulty passing muster with the Shin Bet officer at the guardhouse. Once he’d seen our passports and circled the location of Lisa’s apartment on a map of the kibbutz, he handed us our visitor passes, lifted the security barrier, and told us to move forward.

  I glanced down at the map before handing it to Nikki.

  It showed the kibbutz was shaped like an oval with the main road into the kibbutz meandering around the outer perimeter of the oval until it ended up back at the guardhouse.

  All businesses, medical facilities, and administrative buildings were located along the main road, whereas all single-dwelling homes, condos, and apartment buildings were located on the secondary roads in the middle of the kibbutz.

  A section of land designated for communal agriculture was on the east side of the kibbutz. Along the main road, we drove past a grocery store, a pharmacy, and a couple of restaurants, all of which were owned by the kibbutz.

  About a mile from the guardhouse, we topped a hill and came upon the Horizons Clinic. Although Felix had told us the kibbutz didn’t have a hospital, the Horizons Clinic appeared to be nearly as large as a hospital in an average-size American city.

  Once we drove past the clinic, Nikki glanced down at the map and then pointed ahead of us to the next intersection.

  “That’s the road we want. Lisa’s apartment should be the third building on the left.”

  Each of the sand-colored buildings on the residential street appeared to be a fourplex—two apartments on top and two on the bottom. Those on the bottom floor had porches, and those on the top floor had balconies.

  Lisa had a bottom-floor apartment, and after I parked our rental car in front of her building, I noticed her porch was filled with a variety of potted plants. Some were in ceramic containers; some were in hanging baskets and some were in galvanized buckets. A green garden hose was coiled up in a corner.

  In the middle of the porch was a wooden swing and hanging from the eaves were several sets of wind chimes.

  A woman dressed in a pair of black slacks and a bright red blouse was watering the plants with a plastic watering can.

  “Is that Lisa?” Nikki asked.

  “Yes, I believe it is. Shall we go introduce ourselves?”

  * * * *

  Lisa continued watering the plants as Nikki and I got out of the car and began walking up the sidewalk toward her apartment building. If she saw us, she gave no indication of it.

  When we got closer, I thought I heard her mumbling to herself, but then I realized she might be trying to mimic the tinkling melody of the wind chimes.

  She appeared so engrossed in her plant-watering task, I was afraid our unexpected presence might startle her, so I called out in English, “Good morning.”

  She never looked at us.

  As soon as we stepped up on the porch, a woman appeared at the screen door and motioned us inside.

  Lisa paid no attention to her.

  The woman didn’t say anything as we followed her inside the apartment, but as soon as she closed the door behind us, she said, “I’m Rose Stillman, Lisa’s caregiver.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Titus Ray, and this is my wife, Nikki.”

  “Yes, I know. I got a call from the security officer as soon as you left the guardhouse.” She gestured at us to have a seat on the sofa. “After I talked with Clare yesterday, I also got a call from my supervisor at Mossad who told me I should give you the full picture of Lisa’s condition when you came out here today.”

  “We’d really appreciate that,” I said, as Nikki and I took a seat on the sofa.

  Rose, who appeared to be in her early fifties, was a petite woman with a pixie-shaped face, dark brown hair, and a fair complexion. She was wearing a blue pullover blouse over a pair of loose-fitting blue cotton pants.

  I thought her outfit might be a nurse’s uniform, but I wasn’t sure.

  I also wasn’t sure what to make of Rose’s attitude toward us.

  She wasn’t exactly hostile toward us, but neither was she all that friendly.

  Before taking a seat in an armchair across the room from us, Rose walked over and grabbed a sheet of paper off the dining room table.

  “Could I offer you something to drink?” she asked.

  Nikki and I both declined.

  Once Rose sat down, Nikki gestured at an abstract painting hanging in the dining room and made a comment about how much she liked it.

  Rose smiled and said, “That’s one of my paintings.”

  When Nikki expressed amazement at her talent, I joined in, although I had no idea whether she was talented or not.

  Rose stared at the painting as if she were just seeing it for the first time. “Painting is very therapeutic for me, especially painting abstracts. Abstracts free the mind’s creativity, and creativity is an essential part of true healing.”

  “I’ve always heard painting was very therapeutic,” Nikki said.

  When I heard Rose mention healing, I thought it might be an opening for me to talk about Lisa, so I said, “I can understand how abstract art might be good for healing, especially if a person—”

  Rose cut me off. “Any kind of imaginative art is good for healing. I know you were at Lisa’s apartment yesterday, so you probably noticed the furnishings in her living room. When she was decorating her apartment, I suggested several of those pieces. She was in the early stages of depression then, and I felt sure she would eventually be able to translate her sorrow into hope by surrounding herself with some contemporary décor, along with various pieces of abstract art.”

  As I looked at the abstract painting on the wall of Rose’s dining room, I tried to understand how the irregular-shaped bubbles in various shades of orange and red could inspire hope.

  The colored bubbles reminded of the fungi cells I’d seen under the microscope in t
enth-grade biology class, and I couldn’t recall the sight of them inspiring anything in me, much less hope.

  Nikki asked, “Is that also the philosophy of the Horizons Clinic? Are they using creativity to treat Lisa for her depression?”

  “Yes, that’s one aspect of their treatment program, and in Lisa’s case, her creativity manifests itself in working with plants. Being around growing things seems to lessen Lisa’s anxiety, and her doctors have been encouraged when they’ve seen Lisa interacting with them.”

  “Would you mind explaining Lisa’s condition to us?” I asked. “I’m sorry if that sounds blunt, but I’m a black and white kind of person, and I prefer to have things spelled out for me.”

  Rose looked annoyed. “Well then, to put it bluntly, Lisa is dealing with psychotic depression. Her psychosis reveals itself in an inability to react with her present circumstances. She also has difficulty communicating with other human beings.”

  “Do you have any idea what brought on her depression?” I asked. “Of course, we’re aware of her daughter’s accident, but many people experience similar tragedies, and yet they still go on with their lives.”

  Rose looked down at the sheet of paper in her hand. “I’ve been authorized to tell you certain things which may or may not answer your questions.”

  She paused as she put on a pair of reading glasses. “Since I don’t want to reveal what I’m not authorized to tell you, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to just read this document to you.”

  Nikki and I immediately agreed, and Rose cleared her throat and read the document out loud.

  “Six months before Lisa’s daughter had her fatal car accident, Lisa was engaged in a covert operation in which two members of her team were killed, along with a number of women and children. She was partly to blame for this loss of life, and she accepted that blame without question. After taking some time off, Lisa returned to active duty. A week later, she and several colleagues were having dinner in a restaurant in Tel Aviv when a suicide bomber walked in and detonated his device. All her colleagues were killed, and only Lisa and two other people in the restaurant escaped unharmed. Once again, Lisa took some time off, but instead of remaining in Israel, she flew to the States and spent a month with Kaylynn and her family. Two weeks after she returned to Israel, Kaylynn was killed in a car accident. Shortly after that, Lisa began experiencing signs of severe depression. When her symptoms worsened, I made the decision to move her out here to the kibbutz so she could be treated at the Horizons Clinic.”

  Rose placed the sheet of paper in her lap and removed her glasses. “I was told you were in Israel looking for Lisa because her son-in-law was killed in Yemen, and you were hoping to reunite Lisa with her granddaughter. I’m sorry to tell you that won’t be possible.”

  I suddenly had a much clearer picture of what was going on with Rose, and I felt a little foolish for not seeing it sooner.

  She was exhibiting all the characteristics of someone who’d taken on the role of Lisa Redding’s guardian. Besides protecting her, she was attending to her physical and emotional needs, taking care of her finances, and essentially exercising total control over her life. Oddly enough, she was doing this openly and without apology.

  “You introduced yourself to us as Lisa’s caregiver,” I said. “Do you mind telling me why you’ve taken on that role? Were you acquainted with Lisa before she moved into your neighborhood? Have the two of you been friends a long time?”

  She gave me a condescending smile. “Obviously, Mr. Ray, you’re not acquainted with Mossad’s employment policies. Certain covert employees, of which Lisa is still one, are required to sign a legal agreement giving Mossad the right to assign a caregiver in the event the employee is incapacitated or is no longer able to act responsibly. Approximately six months ago, I was assigned as Lisa’s caregiver, which gives me the legal right to act on her behalf.”

  I was about to quiz her further about the legalities of her caregiver role, when the front door opened and Lisa came inside. She was carrying a small potted plant.

  The plant didn’t look all that healthy, and Lisa appeared to be distraught about it.

  Rose immediately jumped up and rushed to her side. Putting her arm around Lisa’s waist, she led her over to the dining table, where she helped her place the plant on the table in front of her, and then she gently eased Lisa into one of the high-back chairs.

  As Lisa stared at the plant, she started rocking back and forth, moving her head from side to side, and moaning as if she might be in pain.

  She quieted down a few moments later when Rose began stroking her hair and reassuring her the plant wasn’t dead.

  “As soon as you give it some water, it should be just fine,” Rose said, “It’s not going to die. All it needs is a drink of water.”

  Lisa’s appearance had changed dramatically from the photograph we’d seen of her in the dossier. Her hair was completely gray now, and her skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor. Her posture, along with her shuffling gait, was that of a much older person.

  As Rose continued speaking to her, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the loving attitude Rose was showing Lisa and the less-than-friendly attitude she’d exhibited toward us.

  Even though the contrast was striking, I found it reassuring.

  * * * *

  Nikki and I remained quiet observers as this scene was playing out in front of us, but when Lisa picked up the plant, and she and Rose began making their way over to the front door, I got up from the couch, and opened the door for them.

  For a brief moment, I thought Lisa was about to acknowledge me, but then she averted her eyes and followed Rose out to the porch.

  I barely had time to walk back over to the sofa and sit down before Rose came back inside. “She’ll be fine now. She was agitated because she thought she’d killed one of the seedlings she’d planted. Part of her therapy is learning how to deal with death, even if it’s only a potted plant.”

  Nikki said, “It’s obvious you care about Lisa.”

  “She’s a very special lady to me. I’m sorry I can’t give you the details of why I feel that way about her, but what I can tell you is that I’m committed to helping her become whole again, and if that’s not possible, then I want to make sure she lives out her life with dignity.”

  “Rose,” I said, “please accept my apologies if we’ve given you the impression we’re here to interfere in Lisa’s life. Our only motivation in coming here today was to let her know about her granddaughter’s situation. Now that we know Lisa’s unable to care for the child, I believe we’ve met that obligation.”

  “I understand,” Rose said, looking away for a moment. “If the circumstances were different, then perhaps Lisa would have been willing to raise the child. However, to be honest with you, she once told me parenting wasn’t something she enjoyed.”

  “Parenting Eleanor wouldn’t have been that difficult,” I said. “She’s a joy to have around.”

  “What’s going to happen to the child now?” Rose asked. “Are there other relatives she could live with?”

  “No, Lisa’s her only relative,” I said.

  Nikki smiled. “Actually, Rose, before we came here this morning, we were discussing adopting Eleanor ourselves.”

  Rose nodded. “I’m sure you’d make wonderful parents.”

  “Adopting Eleanor will involve a lot of paperwork,” I said. “Since you’re Lisa’s official guardian, can I assume you’re authorized to sign whatever documentation the state of Virginia requires for an adoption process to go through?”

  “Yes, I can sign such documents, and I’d be happy to do it.”

  She pulled open a side table drawer. “Here’s my contact information.”

  Rose handed me her business card, and I gave her one of my CIS business cards. She smiled when she glanced down at it.

  Once we’d done that, there didn’t seem to be anything left to say.

  Nikki and I both thanked Rose and told her goodbye, an
d then she walked us out to the front porch where we found Lisa sitting in the wooden swing humming to herself.

  Nikki lifted her hand and gave her a little wave. “Bye, Lisa.”

  She didn’t respond.

  After we got inside the car, I found myself dealing with a myriad of emotions. I was incredibly sad about Lisa, but I was overjoyed at the prospect of adopting Eleanor. At the same time, I felt frightened at the thought of trying to be a father to her, but yet I was looking forward to her becoming my daughter.

  I also felt apprehensive about how such changes might affect the relationship between Nikki and me, not to mention what taking on the responsibility of a child, along with a new wife, might mean for my future at the Agency.

  Now that I had a wife and child, would I be willing to accept a dangerous assignment or put myself in a life-threatening situation?

  Would I still be able to make a split-second decision knowing the outcome would affect not just me, but other people as well, people who were counting on me to come home to them?

  As I inserted the key in the ignition, Nikki put her hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m sure you’re asking yourself how we’re going to do this. I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

  “Let me know if you come up with an answer.”

  “I believe I already have an answer. There’s a verse in the Bible—I think it’s in Isaiah—that says something like, ‘Do not be afraid, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you.’ ”

  “That’s a good verse to remember.”

  “That’s our answer. That’s how we’ll do this.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t putting God in the equation. That’s how we’ll do this. We’ll give him the responsibility for working it out.”

  After we returned our visitor passes to the Shin Bet officer in the guardhouse and headed up the road to Beit Shemesh, Nikki pulled her cell phone out of her purse, and said, “I should look up that verse to make sure I quoted it correctly.”