This was due to Galia’s indefatigable attempts to learn something about Naama’s whereabouts. Where did she live? Together with a computer whiz from the paper, Galia was able to locate the recipient of the money from the joint account after selling her mother’s home. It turned out the account did not belong to Naama at all, but to a yeshiva in the settlement of Ein Regev in Samaria.
This discovery led Galia to conclude that Naama must be a resident of the settlement, but she did nothing with the information. All she understood was that there was some connection between her sister and the yeshiva. A couple of weeks later, she learned something which compelled her to stop the cash flow.
Galia trembled as she recalled that evening, when Doron returned home exhausted. As was his habit, he took a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator, sat down in front of the television and became absorbed in the nightly news. Galia was making supper and chatting with Shir, who had just begun to talk. She remembered how the mug had slipped from her hand as, half-listening, she heard a report about weapons being found that morning in the basement of a yeshiva known for its extremist views. Doron, alarmed by the sound of the mug’s shattering, jumped up and ran into the kitchen to sweep up the shards. He picked up Shir and went back to watch the TV, not even noticing that Galia was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
It was as if she had been struck by lightning when she heard the name of the yeshiva: Karnei Re’em. She was horrified by the realization that this had been the yeshiva which had received the money she thought was going to her sister. She could not help but think that she had subsidized the purchase of weapons to be used for purposes other than self-defense — as the reporter explained.
Doron, who was involved in this investigation, later described to her the sequence of events, but Galia was preoccupied with thinking about how she could disassociate herself from the yeshiva — and from her sister at the same time. The next day, she went to the bank and cancelled the preauthorized payment, without a second thought. She knew that as soon as Naama found out, she would make contact, but Galia was ready for this. She knew she had done the right thing, and no guilty conscience would cause her to reverse course.
Indeed, the phone call came a few weeks later, while she was in the office. Galia was preoccupied with the newspaper’s affairs, and she responded curtly and decisively. She expressed her disappointment to her sister at being taken advantage of. Naama explained that the money did reach her, by way of the yeshiva which their late father had studied at, but Galia did not accept this explanation. She got off the phone as quickly as she could.
Now as she stared at the screen of the television she had just turned off, Galia wondered how she could have done it, how she could have given her sister another opportunity, when she agreed to send her checks from time to time. She knew that if Doron were to uncover this, he would be disappointed — not just because she had hidden her past and her activities, but because of her naivete and foolishness.
Indeed, at the moment she felt, more than anything, foolish.
Foolish and tired.
Doron arrived at Galia’s apartment building feeling fatigued and drained, but resolute. He hadn’t had the opportunity to exchange any words with her after leaving the courtroom, and he was worried about her.
In the parking lot, he noticed the undercover vehicle. He recognized the inhabitants of the car and wished them good evening.
Entering the elevator, his heartbeat accelerated. He thought about Udi’s words, and he knew that he was right. The case was too personal for him. Damnit, how could it not be personal? She was the woman who dominated his life; whom he dreamed of every night; who kept him from even thinking about — all the more so from acting on — the advances of so many women since the separation; the woman who, with everything that had happened since, was still his daughter’s mother. And now she was accused of a horrific crime. How could he ignore his feelings for her, put them to one side while on the other side was his shock at the reprehensible act she was being blamed for?
He thought back to their conversations about politics, about protest, about the Rabin assassination. She was very much involved in the daily politics of the country. Her professional past was as a current-affairs reporter—after all, that’s why they had met in the first place, years ago when she wrote the series on police conduct during the Intifada.
For a moment, it struck him how odd it all was. Her reporting had not spared the extreme right from criticism for their brawling at the protests. This criticism had earned her scorn and condemnation. At the same time, she had also reproached the police for their conduct at previous protests, condemning the use of excessive force in dispersing the demonstrators. She explicitly eschewed any violence, and she rigorously maintained objectivity and journalistic integrity. But how did that jibe with the act she was accused of? Only an extreme threat could have possibly caused her to do so! He wanted to stand before her again, to look into her eyes and look for answers. He had to see for himself, to find something to validate his thoughts. However, as he entered the apartment, all that had welcome him was silence.
There was a dim light flickering in the bedroom they had once shared.
Is Galia asleep? he mused. But how the hell can she sleep in these circumstances? he thought as he approached the doorway of her room. In her position, I would be tossing and turning in my bed, racking my brain how to avoid a trial or jail time. How can she confess so nonchalantly? Doesn’t she understand that she’s giving up this life in its entirety? Giving up our daughter, giving up all her dreams, giving up everything she’s built, giving up the chance for us to reconcile? Everything will be changed, forever!
He peeked inside. Galia was asleep on the bed, her blanket shoved to the side, mostly on the floor. Her sleep seemed to be uneasy. Doron stepped inside, looking at her and feeling his senses drawn to the sight of her partially unclothed body.
I see she still likes to sleep in a tank top, he smiled to himself. He crept to her side, lifted up the blanket and covered her. “My love,” he whispered inaudibly, kissing her on the cheek and quickly moving to the doorway.
“Doron?” she asked sleepily. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” He greatly desired to speak with her, but he knew how much she needed sleep.
“Doron, it must be very late. What are you doing here?”
“Never mind, go back to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning. I’ll stay in the living room, you rest,” he said and closed the bedroom door.
He poured himself some cold water and sat down on the sofa heavily. His temples were throbbing, and he massaged them lightly. He looked around. It looked like nothing had changed since he had left. His heart clenched in inexpressible pain. He could not stand the feeling that he had missed his chance. Those months they had been apart, how could he have borne it? He always eagerly awaited the days when he would meet Shir, the few seconds during which he could take her home and have the privilege of seeing Galia in person. She did everything to avoid spending time with him or talking to him on the phone… He began to wonder: Is that why she’s been so distant? Because she’s become involved with political extremism?
No, he couldn’t accept that Galia would choose the path of violence. It just wasn’t in her nature. He refused to accept it. If only she had told him, shared more of her life with him. Perhaps he could have dissuaded her from blowing up her future. Still he had tried, he had really tried to approach her, with no success. She moved further and further away, which meant she couldn’t know how much he missed her and Shir. She couldn’t know and she didn’t want to know, so every time he tried to draw her into a personal conversation, it went nowhere.
He stood up. Maybe this was his opportunity, if she hadn’t fallen back asleep yet? Maybe he could explain how much she meant to him? Maybe he could explain that he would always be at her side, no matter what.
&n
bsp; Her bedroom door creaked, and Doron found himself standing before her. Her look said everything. They stood there in the middle of the hall, considering each other. His body was slick with sweat as he thought of how amazing she looked. He opened his mouth to say so, but she put a finger on his lips. Nothing more needed to be said.
Galia moved towards him, tears on her face, and her look of sadness tore his heart in two. He caressed her cheeks, gathering her in his arms. They stood in the hallway like that for a few minutes, embracing, intertwined. Doron wondered for a moment if she was too sleepy to be conscious of what was happening between them, but then she put her lips on his, and there was no doubt that she was fully awake.
My God, he thought to himself as he held her tightly, succumbing to his passions. His lips devoured hers, as his tongue explored the sweetness of hers, suckling from her. His hands moved aside the shoulder-straps of her tank top, and Galia felt his sharp gasps as he tenderly kissed her exposed neck and shoulders. Slowly, gently, Galia was propelled back to her room. Pressed tightly together, they stopped by the bedside, fully aware of the intensity of the yearning burgeoning between them. Their gazes met. It was as if far longer than two days had passed since they had given in to their mutual longing.
Doron caressed Galia’s shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. The sheer tank top fell a bit, exposing her full, erect breasts, begging for his touch. Doron looked deeply at her, his blue eyes darkening with desire. With a bit of effort, he silenced the voices in his head, the voices which sought to stop him from taking what he had wanted more than anything, for so long. As Galia gently lay on her bed, she opened her eyes. Her lips were dry. She embraced Doron, drawing him closer, helping him chase away every thought of hesitation from his mind.
Galia’s body arched as she sought to contain Doron in it and everything he offered. Her legs were wrapped around him, and her lips were sealed to his. She demanded everything he wanted to give her. She craved him and his body. She had spent far too long denying this fact, avoiding what was so blindingly obvious. She loved him. She needed him. They moved together, moaning in ecstasy, burning with the intensity of their passion.
“I love you,” Doron whispered as he felt the gales of her gratification. Her fingernails dug into his back, demanding more and more and more…
Finally, exhausted, they released each other. He caressed her exposed belly, feeling the rivulets of sweat all over her body. Galia smiled, trembling a bit. She put her head on his chest.
“Gali?”
“Mmm…” she murmured.
“Are you listening to me?” It was imperative that they speak. He had to tell her about quitting his job for her sake. He needed her to know that from here on out, there was no chance that she would wake up and not find him at her side — if only she wanted it. He raised his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Gali? Gali?” he whispered. He realized that she was already deeply asleep.
He got out of bed resignedly, somewhat disappointed that they’d had no chance to speak. He dressed and left the bedroom, making his way to the balcony to have a smoke. The rainclouds which had seemed so threatening just an hour earlier seemed to have retreated substantially. The night was bright.
“Some metaphor,” he muttered with a rueful grin, thinking of the roadblocks which had just been dismantled. Now that the skies were clear, he hoped they could clear up the story of the attempted assassination, as well as the status of their relationship. Then they could be together again. Doron looked at the smoke which snaked its way into the air from his cigarette, drifting in the air towards the bay, where container ships floated at anchor. Suddenly, his cell phone rang. It was his boss — or rather, his former boss.
“Udi?”
“Yes, Doron, it’s me. I just got out of an emergency meeting considering our next step against Galia…”
“Yeah, Udi, so you’re giving me an update even though I don’t work for you anymore.”
His cynical tone enraged his friend. “You fucking idiot, can you just shut up for a minute? We got a tip about the gun being in Galia’s apartment.”
“A tip? Who gave you a tip?!” Doron rocked on his feet, struck by the information.
“An hour ago, we got an anonymous call. We’re still trying to trace where it came from.” Udi could never admit it to Doron, but he too found the evidence which was piling up against Galia to be suspicious.
“In any case, we have a search warrant. Fifteen minutes from now, I’d guess, the detectives will already be in Haifa. I thought you might want to know, might want to be with her while they’re executing it.”
Doron was shocked. “Fifteen minutes?! Udi, c’mon, it’s the middle of the night. Can’t you wait until morning?” His head was swimming with thoughts and plans. Who had called and dropped a dime on Galia? Was the tip reliable? Where was the handgun, if it really existed? Maybe he could find it before the detectives arrived… He decided to try his luck at stalling the search.
“Look, Galia just fell asleep… C’mon, bro, wait until the morning. It won’t change anything.”
Doron heard a curse on the other side of the line. “So I gather that you’re already with her, huh, Doron? I don’t get you! Or maybe I should say that I’m the only who does get you… But you’re screwing this whole thing up more and more, and screwing me over too. I really hope that you’re not doing something crazy to interfere with the investigation.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t interfere in the search. Or in the investigation.” He knew he was lying, as he had already decided that he would do whatever it took to help Galia.
“I’m only here to—” Doron saw that Galia had come out of the bedroom and quickly ended the conversation.
“Hey, who was that? I thought I heard you on the phone.” She hoped that it wasn’t Naama or one of her associates; the last thing she wanted was for them to suspect her of confiding in Doron.
“Udi called me with an update,” Doron replied. “Sit down, I’ll tell you everything.”
They sat in the living room. Galia looked at Doron strangely. She seemed disoriented. “Wait a minute, why are you here? When did you arrive?”
“I’m here to be with you, and you’re lucky that I came.”
“Why?”
“Udi just told me that a team of detectives is on the way. They’re going to execute a search warrant. They’ll be here soon to search the apartment.” Doron let the words hang in the air, gauging her reaction.
“Search the apartment?! What are they looking for?”
“That’s what I’m asking you. You tell me. If you’re actually guilty, then you ought to know what you have hidden in the house.”
Galia’s tangled web of lies was tightly woven now, constrictive enough that it threatened to choke the life out of her. She had no idea what Doron was talking about, but she dared not betray her confusion. She got up from the armchair, trying to distance herself from his piercing ice-blue glare, but Doron grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him forcefully.
Roughly, he demanded, “Sit down, where are you going?”
She pulled away and yelled, “Ow, you’re hurting me.” She massaged her elbow, wincing. His touch reminded her of what had happened between them just a few minutes earlier. She looked at him again. Yes, she wanted him, but on the other hand… “Why did you come here? What are you looking for in the dead of night?” She looked away. “Shit, how could I have done it again? I’m such an idiot.” She glared back at him, looking him straight in the eye reprovingly. “So what happens now? Will I wake up tomorrow with another crappy note telling me where you’ve disappeared to?”
“No, Gali, no. Never again. I quit my job. I was at the office this afternoon, with Udi, and I—”
“You did what?!” Her eyes gaped with incredulity and shock.
“I quit.”
“Very fu
nny, Doron. You would never quit that job. You’re in love with it. You can’t live without it,” she snapped cynically, overwhelmed by the pain her words caused her.
“No, I’m in love with you. I can’t live without you. That’s the truth. I came here to be with you.”
Galia’s eyes brimmed with tears. Dumb, he’s so fucking dumb, she thought. What good will it do for him to be with me now? In a few days, the whole truth will be revealed, and he won’t want anything to do with me. He’ll know that our life together is based on lies, even now.
They were startled by the pounding on the door, and their contentious conversation was immediately forgotten.
Doron went to open the door, while Galia hurried back to her bedroom to put some clothes on. When she returned, she saw Doron standing and talking with the detectives. Galia surveyed the scene. The situation was unbearable and incomprehensible. What are they looking for? she thought to herself. The body language of Doron and the detectives indicated that they knew each other, so she hoped Doron could shoo them away. Then she heard one of the detectives apologize to Doron, explaining that the whole matter seemed odd to him. Doron agreed and offered his theory: Galia had committed the crime, but only because of a serious threat or extortion by extremist elements. She could not be the sole party guilty of attempted murder.
The detectives began their search, with Galia following one of them to the bedroom. Her sanity was hanging by a thread, by a strand on the edge of a cliff, and one light gust of wind would snap it and send her tumbling down into the abyss. In her worst nightmares, she never imagined such a fate, strange men pawing through her closets and her most intimate possessions.
Suddenly she felt Doron’s hand on her shoulder, comforting her. “Relax, they’ll be done soon. There’s nothing for them to find, right?” Doron was now confident that there was nothing for her to worry about; he hadn’t even tried to find the weapon himself.
Forced Silence Page 9
