Forced Silence

by Vered Cohen Wisotzki

  Their love only grew — literally, as Haya’s belly swelled in her last trimester. At the end of her seventh month, Haya left her job at the legal office, allowing her to prepare herself and the nursery for the new arrival. But in the Bnei Zion Hospital maternity ward, they were surprised to learn that they were to be parents to identical twin girls.

  “You’ve brought us twice the love, twice the happiness,” Baruch whispered in her ear as they left the hospital and set out for home, their happy family doubled in size.

  Haya’s father Yehuda was waiting for them. He took his granddaughters, one in each arm, and let the young parents have a little rest.

  And so the days passed.

  Haya enjoyed being a mother. She would happily spend hours at the beach with them and her father, returning home eager to greet Baruch, at the end of a long, exhausting work day. Because Haya was a stay-at-home mother, Baruch had to work longer hours, taking on whatever jobs he could find each day. Haya knew how hard it was for him, but she couldn’t begin to think about going back to work.

  Eventually, though, the pangs of conscience became too much. She decided to return to the legal office she’d worked at before, knowing she had been a valued employee. Hopefully, they would find a compromise, allowing her to work fewer hours, so she could still spend much time with her daughters.

  Instead, she encountered bitter disappointment: there was no job available. With a heavy heart, she went back home. Her hands full of grocery bags, she knocked on the door, waiting for her father to answer, to no avail. The doorbell also evoked no response from inside. Now, she began to worry. She could hear the radio blaring inside the apartment, but nothing else. She ran down the steps to a neighbor she was friendly with, who had the spare key. Quickly she unlocked the door and entered. She saw the girls sleeping in their crib.

  “Thank God, they’re all right.” She sighed. “Dad?” she called. She wandered from room to room, looking for Yehuda. Finally she walked into the bathroom, only to find him sprawled on the tile floor, holding a bottle of pills which he hadn’t managed to open.

  The ambulance’s siren frightened the tranquil neighborhood, as Yehuda was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. The doctors determined that he had suffered a massive stroke, and they did all they could to save his life. Their success was partial at best: Haya’s father survived, but he would never again return to his former state. The doctors recommended that he be transferred to a rehabilitation facility in Binyamina.

  The financial predicament of the Cohen family only got worse after that. As there was less and less food in the refrigerator, there were more and more fights in the house. Baruch was too proud to ask his relatives for help, so he minimized his contact with them. Haya couldn’t even look for a job, since she needed to stay home with the twins. As a result, with no solution on the horizon, Baruch began to turn inward with his desperation and frustration. Feelings of guilt over being unable to support his family in a dignified manner ate away at his soul, as toxic as poison in a stream.

  ***

  “Naama, what do you want? I’m late for a meeting.” She had no desire to talk to her sister. Their conversations always began and ended in anger, with the abyss between them only growing, especially since Galia had discovered what exactly Naama was using the money for that she sent her. Galia had subsequently tried to limit their interactions, and she told her sister this over and over.

  “Meetings, meetings, that’s all you people do. Meeting, talking, eating. Just think what God would say about you.”

  “Naama, stop screwing around with me. Why did you call?” It was so strange that her sister was calling today specifically. She recalled the cloud that passed through her mind upon hearing about the assassination attempt. She had thought about her sister for the briefest of moments, but she had swiftly banished the thought from her mind.

  “I called because I need your help,” Naama responded coldly. Galia wondered how much it would cost her this time to keep Naama away from her and her family.

  “My help? What do you need, more money? What for, this time? To buy a trailer for some settler who lives off of our tax money while planning to screw the government? To buy more weapons—”

  “Galia…” She could now hear her sister’s voice clearly on the other side of the phone. Galia knew she had upset Naama, but she could not forgive her for the past.

  “I don’t need your money — excuse me, our money, okay? I need you and what you’re gonna do for me.” Her words were unclear.

  “Damn it, Naama, I don’t have time for your games.” Galia’s patience was severely frayed, especially because she knew her employees were waiting for her at the emergency meeting. “I can’t understand a word of what you’re saying. I was clear. What do you want from me? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about what all your friends are talking about. What happened yesterday. That was me.”

  “That was you? What was you?” Galia’s head was spinning. She was suddenly overwhelmed by what she had tried to ignore. For months she had thought about her sister and her friends, how they would respond to the Disengagement. From the few conversations they had, Galia knew that they had extreme views and that their reaction would be far-reaching.

  “Yeah, sis. It was me…”

  “You? It was you? Are you serious? I don’t believe you.” Galia’s head throbbed in agony.

  “C’mon, Galia, I’m not joking. I have no time to joke. I shot the minister yesterday afternoon.” Naama was now the one to sound impatient.

  “What, what did you do? Was that really you?” Her legs trembled. She had to sit down. “Listen to me, you’re fucking insane. What were you thinking? You’ve totally lost it!” Galia took a deep breath. “I don’t even know how to react to that. What happened to you? Why? How? What were you thinking?” Galia’s mouth was dry, and she was starting to feel extremely nauseous.

  “I thought that someone had to finally take the bull by the horns. That’s what I was thinking,” Naama replied indifferently. “You know, when you put a gun to someone’s head, they stop being so delicate. In the end, everyone has to pay for their sins.”

  “You’re totally insane, you know that? Do you understand what you’ve done? What the consequences will be? You’re lucky our parents aren’t still alive to see this. Listen up, I know exactly where to find you. I’ll send the whole Goddamn GSS to your door. You know what, you made a big mistake telling me this. If you’re looking for help from me, you’ve lost your mind. It ends here. I will give them all the info I have on you.” Galia’s whole body shook as she sweated. She only wanted the conversation to be over, to call Doron and tell him.

  “Oh, really? You’ll tell your husband that you’ve got a sister who’s — what’d you say, insane? That you’ve been supporting me, sending me money? Yeah, that’s not a great idea. He might think that you have some connection to what happened…” Naama’s voice was so calm and self-confident that Galia could only seethe in her fury.

  “You know what, it’s good I told no one about you. Do me a favor, let’s end this crazy conversation. I never want to hear from you again, for the rest of my life. Do you hear me?!” Galia was about to hang up.

  But Naama managed to interject a chilling sentence before Galia could end the conversation, “Don’t you dare hang up, Galia; this is about Shir.”

  “What about Shir?” Galia was totally dumbfounded.

  “So, here’s the thing: the cops and the GSS have me on tape…”

  “On tape? What tape? The restaurant had a security camera?!”

  “Yes, it did, in fact. I noticed that before I ran away.” Naama’s voice remained calm, while Galia’s was hysterical.

  “You mean to tell me that the police have a tape of you shooting the minister?! Don’t you realize that they’ll see you and immediately think it’s me? Look, this insane conversation has to end
. I have a lot of explaining to do. And you, God willing, are going to prison. Bye.” Once again, Galia was about to hang up.

  “Hold on, you fool,” Naama stopped her. “I have no intention of going to prison for the mitzvah I tried to do. Before you run to your husband, you ought to think twice.”

  “There’s nothing for me to think about. You and all your friends are psychopaths! You belong in prison.”

  The response to this was laughter. “I don’t think so, dear sister, but if you insist that I have to pay, I’ll make you pay as well.”

  Galia slammed her palm down on her desk. She had no idea what Naama was talking about. “Is this about money again? Tell me, what do you think I—”

  “I’m talking about your lovely daughter, sis. Your daughter Shir. She’s here with me in the car, coming home with me. She was so happy that her precious, busy mother surprised her today by picking her up early and taking her on an outing.”

  Galia’s dropped her phone, then rushed to pick it up again. In a panicky voice, she demanded, “What did you do?”

  “Calm down, sis, and listen up. Look, I never wanted it to come to this. This makes everything more complicated. But when I realized there was a tape, I told myself that you’d run to your husband, the superhero, right away. I knew you’d do everything to assist in the investigation, considering how self-righteous you are. I have no choice, I have to disappear. And you have to allow me to make… certain arrangements. It will take a few days, and for now everyone needs to believe that you are the one on the tape.”

  “Where is Shir? What happened to her? Is she all right?” Galia could not believe her ears. Her body was gripped by terror.

  “Shir is fine, and she will be returned to you once I disappear from the GSS’s radar.”

  “Naama, you’ve totally lost it if you think I’d play along…” Galia’s mind worked feverishly. She had to speak to Doron urgently, he would know what to do.

  “Of course you’ll cooperate. What choice do you have? And if you share that information with anyone, you’ll regret it. If we ever sense — either I or my friends —that someone’s getting close to us, you can say goodbye to Shir. I — or I should say, they — won’t think twice before doing whatever it takes to protect ourselves. Am I making myself clear?”

  Galia felt utterly shattered. She stood up and hoarsely asked: “Why do you hate me so much?” She didn’t expect a satisfying answer.

  “Hate you? I don’t hate you. I just don’t care about you one way or another.”

  With that, the line went dead.

  Chapter Five

  Galia stood listening for a long moment, unable to believe what had just happened. Her office began to spin around her. She sat down, looking at the picture of her beloved daughter, which was on her desk. She hugged it to her chest, trying to process the blow which had landed on her without any warning. At last, Doron’s confusing call from a few minutes before made sense. Of course he had seen the video, and he would be on his way to demand answers. But how could she explain it to him? He wouldn’t believe it. He knew her. He’d never accept she was the shooter. Should she tell Doron everything?

  “Everything” included so much she had kept from him through the years of their marriage. Would he be able to accept the fact that she had hid an entire life from him? Would telling him the truth lead him to investigate, endangering Shir? What to do?

  It was obvious that she could not think clearly in her office. She opened the door and called Yael. One look was enough to tell the assistant that something was amiss. “Galia, is everything all right? What happened?”

  “Something’s come up, and I have to go home. Ask Daniel to run the meeting. Tell him I’m sorry, and I won’t be coming back today,” Galia replied curtly and left the office.

  Thoughts swirled in her head: the meeting, Daniel, Doron, her sister, but mainly her daughter Shir. Before she could reach her car in the parking lot, her cell phone rang. Galia looked at the number. It was Daniel. She hesitated, certain that he was furious over her running out of the newsroom at such a critical time. She also knew that no explanation would satisfy him, and that he would want to know what was so urgent that she had to leave without updating him personally. She let the phone ring and ring, deciding this was no time for explanations and apologies. Daniel would have to wait until later for his explanation.

  She drove like a maniac to make it home in fifteen minutes. She threw her coat on the sofa and sank down on it. The house was cold, with rain rapping on the large windows in the living room. She began shaking uncontrollably, as if she were looking at herself on a screen in the theater, dreading the inevitable in a horror movie. She stood up shakily, barely making it over to the kitchen.

  Shir’s cup was still in the sink, the remnants of that morning’s chocolate milk dried to a crust. Galia leaned on the refrigerator, with tears pouring from her eyes and thoughts running in her head. The more she tried to overcome her distress and to assume the appearance of a political assassin, the more she understood how unlikely the chance was that she would be able to play this role. The sleeve of her blouse was already soaked with her salty tears when she decided to rise above her self-pity and take a deep breath.

  Thoughts rushed through her head: Doron will be here soon. I have to take a shower, to take a breath, to think about what to do next. Should I tell him or not? What about Shir? My little Shiri, what is happening with you? My little girl! She thought that it wouldn’t take long for Shir to realize that Naama was not her mother. Then what?

  The warm water of the shower could not still her tremors. The thought of Shir being in a strange place with strange people almost drove her mad. What could she do? To whom could she turn?

  This feeling of impotence and indecisiveness was totally novel to her. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew that she had to share with Doron what she was feeling. He would be decisive. He would do what was necessary. She would tell him, she decided as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her body.

  She dressed and went to the kitchen, making herself a cup of coffee and lighting a cigarette. Her brain was feverish with thoughts. It appeared that she would have to explain to Doron the sequence of events over the past few years, as well as why she had hidden everything from him. She had no choice: Shir was in danger.

  While she sat in the living room, she once again looked at one of the magnificent pictures displayed on the sideboard. This one was her favorite. It showed Shir, Doron, and herself playing in a large playground during summer vacation more than a year ago. She placed the photograph on her knees, caressing the faces of her loved ones. How could she endanger her daughter by violating her sister’s command? How could she disappoint her beloved and reveal to him all she had hidden from him?

  The next days, she realized, would require her to reveal new reserves of strength she wasn’t sure she had. She had no choice. She would plead guilty, she would confess to everything, as long as Shir was held by her sister.

  Ettinger, the infrastructure minister, she thought. What motive could I possibly have had for what my crazy sister did? Her head was pounding.

  The loud knock on the door startled her and she jumped up. Her gaze was fixed on Doron’s frozen face as he entered the house. She tried to read his body language, to predict what to expect.

  “Coffee?” Perhaps she could get a few more minutes to think.

  “No, not coffee. Is that what you think I’m here for. The only thing I need from you is an explanation!”

  “Explanation?” She tried to delay the inevitable.

  “C’mon, Galia, don’t play the fool. I saw you on the screen! Tell me that this is just some sort of joke.”

  Doron’s gaze was harsh, and she knew that he was barely remaining in control of himself. Trying to ignore his fiery blue eyes, she sipped a little of her coffee.

  “Forget your coffee, and explain this
insanity to me! How could it be you on that tape? How could you, Galia Yellin, be starring in a security camera video, with a gun in your hand, firing at a government minister? Firing at anyone? It makes no sense! I need a reason. I demand an explanation!” He grabbed the mug from her hand and slammed it down on the living room table. Coffee sloshed over the sides, but neither one cared.

  “A reason? An explanation? Why do you need reasons or explanations? I don’t have to give you either. I did it, you saw it, period. I’m guilty, and no explanation I could offer would satisfy you, trust me!” She heard herself and the tremor in her voice, and she struggled to control it and the weakness in her knees. She couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her own mouth.

  “No, don’t try to wear me down with shitty rhetorical tricks. You can save that for your readers. I want a straight answer now. Explain it so even an idiot like me could get it: How could you have done this? What were you thinking?” Galia understood that Doron was about to lose his patience totally. Still, what choice did she have?

  “What was I thinking? What could I have been thinking? You know what, I didn’t think. I took advantage of an opportunity. Minister Ettinger got what was coming to him. What can I tell you? Why do people commit crimes? Because they think that’s the only way to solve their problems.” Even to Galia’s ears, it didn’t sound believable. She was walking a tightrope, which was fraying under her. Any moment now, it would snap.

  Doron confronted her: “Tell me, do you even hear what you’re saying? Have you lost your mind? How much bullshit can you put out there? What problem were you trying to solve by shooting a government minister?!”