Deja Vu

by Michal Hartstein

  I soon realized that I was the glue of the trio. Daria and Inbal actually had to share me. Alone, they couldn’t be friends. A large void separated their two different approaches to life. Occasionally I wondered if they could even tolerate each other. They also used to gossip to me, one about the other. That’s how I learned from Inbal that Daria was shocked when David chose me over her to be his girlfriend. Daria was neither in love with David, nor took any interest in him, but when the captain of the basketball team expressed interest in me, it awoke Daria’s envy. I learned from Inbal that Daria was jealous of me and David, and I learned from Daria that Inbal was, indeed, madly in love with David, but as was expected of a loyal friend, she faithfully kept her distance and said nothing about it, even after the story between David and myself ended.

  Since I personally felt that there was no relationship between David and me, I didn’t understand Inbal’s caution: I had no problem with David being hers or anyone else's. I felt like he was never mine.

  CHAPTER 2

  Four years after the accident, I met my husband at Daria’s army discharge party.

  When Daria was released from the army, Inbal and I still had three months to serve. She, of course, marked the occasion with a huge party with dozens of guests. Those who didn’t know Daria could assume, mistakenly, that she’d enjoyed every moment of her military service. Before she’d enlisted, Daria had been sure she’d be accepted into the military choir. Inbal and I were a little less convinced, but didn’t ever dare express our honest opinions. In our small high school she was the undisputed star, always occupying the stage with her hypnotic and attractive performances, but she lacked exceptional singing skills. No one pointed out to her that, in our high school, she didn’t have much competition, but in the military, the selection was nationwide. For two years, we had to listen to her conspiracy theories about how only people with connections were accepted into the choir, or they were accepted through nepotism. She claimed that, because she had no such ties, she had to serve on a remote base as an education coordinator.

  Daria went around the club surrounded by friends and admirers. She was wearing a light-colored mini dress that showed off her tanned skin. She was drunk from all the attention. We went over to her as she talked over two tall young men - one was very thin with curly hair and a tired look on his face, and the other had a solid physique and an almost shaved head, which actually was the last stop before full baldness. His masculine facial features compensated for his premature baldness, making him look quite charming.

  “Inbal! Rose!” She jumped on us. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “As if we could have missed this party!” I smiled warmly.

  “Inbal said she wasn’t sure she’d be coming.” Daria looked at Inbal accusingly.

  “I was supposed to stay on the base for the entire weekend,” Inbal tried to defend herself.

  “What’s important is that all of us are here,” I said, and the three of us had a group hug.

  “Meet…” Daria introduced the two men who stood beside her as we approached. “Amir,” she pointed to the curly guy, “ and ...” she tried to remember.

  “Asi.” The bald guy smiled at me and held out his hand.

  I shook his hand, and he blushed slightly. Daria didn’t miss the guy’s excitement and embarrassment and rushed to focus the attention on her.

  “Amir,” she laid her hand lightly on Amir’s shoulder, “is our new operations officer, and Asi is his friend from basic training.”

  “Where are you based?” Asi was still staring at me, and I turned my gaze toward Inbal in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry, where are you both based?” Asi corrected himself.

  “I’m in Zrifin and Inbal is in Tel Hashomer,” I answered for the both of us.

  “Nice.”

  Inbal realized pretty quickly that she wasn’t needed there and went to talk with her other friends. Daria, for her part, once more refused to believe that a man who knew the both of us could prefer me to her. Throughout the entire evening, she fawned over Amir and Asi, who was constantly looking for my attention. He wanted us to meet up again after the party, and Daria turned his invitation into a double date.

  A week later, Amir, Asi, Daria and I met up at a small café. In the quiet café, with its dim lighting, it was easier to have a conversation. Daria continued with her efforts to conquer Asi. The waitress brought the desserts, and in the background, the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer began to play.

  “Wow,” Daria rejoiced, “I just love this song.” She pulled me up from the table and began to dance with me. There was no designated place for dancing, and no one else got up and danced, but it didn’t stop Daria from dancing to her favorite song. I knew she really did like the song, but I also knew she was just taking advantage of the situation. The lighting and the black mini-dress she wore, combined with the fact that she could move her body sensually, created a trap that would lure any man. Only very few could withstand it. I refused to be part of Daria’s one-woman-show and sat down at my place. Daria wasted no time and pulled Asi toward her. Asi began to dance awkwardly with her. The fact that he found it embarrassing didn’t stop him from turning the song’s lyrics into a reality by kissing her that very same night while walking her home.

  Amir and I were eventually left alone.

  “So you’re stationed in Zrifin?” Amir tried to get me to talk.

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “The 12th Training Base Camp.”

  “Isn’t that a rookie training base?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So, what are you doing there?”

  “I’m a corporal.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Very.”

  We sat in embarrassing silence. The conversation was strained.

  “You know Daria from school?”

  “From kindergarten.”

  “Oh, wow...” He was impressed. “Well done. I was in the United States with my parents and only came back when I was in second grade, and later on we moved around, so I don’t have any friends from way back.”

  “Wow, lucky you.”

  “That I moved?”

  “No,” I laughed, “that you got to grow up in a different country.”

  “I don’t remember a thing,” he said, and I fell quiet. Did he suffer from amnesia too?

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know… I have fragments of memories of our stay in the United States. We were there for a total of three years, and I was very young. Do you remember yourself in kindergarten?”

  “I don’t remember anything that happened to me before the age of sixteen.”

  That surprised him. “What do you mean?”

  “I had an accident when I was sixteen, and everything that happened to me before the accident was erased from my memory.”

  “You're not serious…” he said in a manner implying it was both a statement and a question.

  “I am. Really.” I looked down. My amnesia wasn’t a secret, but I didn’t often share my personal story with people, certainly not after such a short acquaintance.

  “Wow.” His eyes opened wide once again. “This is the first time I’ve ever met someone who’s forgotten their past. You’re telling me you really don’t remember a thing?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Not even your mom and dad?”

  “Not even my name.”

  “No way!” He rubbed his face with both hands. “Then you had to learn to read and write again at sixteen?”

  “No, my semantic memory wasn’t damaged.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I remembered how to speak, write and read, even in foreign languages. I remembered how to solve mathematical equations and all sorts of historical facts.”

  “Did you remember your friends?”

  “No. I told you - I didn’t remember anything from my private life.”

  “But you still continued being their friend.”<
br />
  “Well, there must have been a reason we became friends before.” I smiled.

  “If I had to guess, I wouldn’t have imagined you and Daria being childhood friends.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s so ‘out there’ and you’re so quiet.”

  “I'm not that quiet. It’s just hard to stand out next to Daria.”

  “True enough.” He laughed. “Daria is quite a character.”

  I didn’t want to gossip about Daria with a guy I barely knew. “That's what's so fun about her; there’s never a dull moment.” I smiled, and Amir had to agree.

  Amir and I kept in touch over the phone. The two of us had to stay two consecutive weeks in our bases, and the nice long conversations we had late into the night made our reunion thrilling and romantic. He was my first serious boyfriend after David. Amir laughed and said that the Madonna song, “Like a Virgin,” was written about me. I’d lost my virginity to David, but, with Amir, I really did feel like a virgin. My relationship with Amir didn’t start with stormy passion. Amir was calm and considerate, qualities that I learned to appreciate and love over the years. He was fairly handsome, but not the kind of man that made my heart miss a beat with a first glance. We didn’t fall in love at first sight. We were a couple of opposites who learned to complement each other perfectly. I would create drama in my personal life and our relationship, and he, with his natural calm and composure, would always reassure me and restore peace to our lives.

  Surprisingly, Daria and Asi’s relationship continued as well. Maybe the fact that Asi wasn’t as easy to get as some of Daria’s previous admirers was the reason that he became her permanent boyfriend. Inbal was alone. For months I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable when Daria and I enjoyed romantic moments in our relationships while Inbal was still all alone, absorbed in her novels and fantasizing about her Mr. Darcy. We occasionally tried to go out, just the three of us, without boyfriends, so she wouldn’t feel out of place, but almost always the conversation was filled with Amir and Asi stories, and Inbal inevitably felt left out.

  Ten months after Daria and I found love, Inbal found love too. In truth, this love was always there. Inbal and I were released from our army duty and planned to go on an extended trip to the United States before starting university. One evening, while I was working as a waitress in a dimly lit pub, Inbal went to a lecture about the United States at the tourist center. There, she ran into David, my first boyfriend and the love of her youth. He was planning a trip to India, Inbal’s true destination of choice, a place I would never agree to go to. Inbal had all sorts of dreams about a trip that would bring her closer to her ‘spiritual self,’ and I promised her that she could also be spiritual in the Nevada desert or the Rocky Mountains. David and the trip to India won, of course, and Inbal got to go on the trip of her dreams with David. Before they left, she swore to me that he was just a good friend from high school, but when they returned, she sat me down for a talk.

  “Rose,” she said hesitantly, “you know you’re like a sister to me.”

  “Of course.”

  “And I really think that things like this shouldn’t happen, but I think our circumstances are different.”

  “What are you talking about?” I began to worry a little.

  “David...”

  “What about him?” I faked innocence; I had a feeling that this had started before they’d even left the country.

  “In India...” she looked down sheepishly, “you know... I mean, you don’t... I can’t explain it. India has a very special atmosphere.”

  “You and David are together?” I cut her suffering short.

  She looked at me with a surprised look. “How did you know?”

  “I figured...” I shrugged.

  “You don’t mind?” Inbal, like many others, refused to believe that my memory had been completely erased.

  “Inbali, how many times do I have to tell you I don’t feel like I ever was David’s girlfriend?”

  “But still -”

  “There is no ‘but still.’ Even if I did remember anything, many years have passed since then. David isn’t my property.”

  “I feel bad...” She started to cry and I reached over and hugged her.

  “You don’t have to feel bad about it. If you’re in love, then you should celebrate your love! I shouldn’t play any part in this story.”

  She gave me a sheepish smile. “You’re incredible.”

  “You’re more.” I kissed her. “Besides, I have a little secret to tell you.”

  “What?” she asked curiously.

  “Amir and I are planning on getting married,” I said, revealing the engagement ring Amir had given me two weeks earlier.

  “Wow!” she said enthusiastically. “How beautiful!”

  “Believe me - David isn’t even a distant memory for me.”

  Inbal laughed. “When are you getting married?”

  “I don’t know... probably not in the next two years.”

  “So why propose now?”

  “It’s kind of a declaration. Both of us are starting out studies in less than a month, so we’re not in a hurry.”

  The relationship between Inbal and David didn’t bother me at all. If anything, I was actually more comfortable in Inbal’s company because she was no longer alone. David was also uncomfortable around me at first, but over time, he realized that I had no reservations about his and Inbal’s love.

  CHAPTER 3

  Daria and Asi got married first.

  To be precise, Daria and Asi decided to get married right after Daria found out that Amir had proposed to me, which was just over a year after Amir and I became a couple. I was surprised by his proposal. At this stage of our lives, we were already living together and knew it was a serious relationship, but Amir wasn’t a great romantic; the fact that he bothered to buy me a real, though small, diamond ring and get down on one knee at the same café where we’d first gone with Daria and Asi amazed me.

  Of course, I said, “Yes,” although it was clear to both of us that we wouldn’t be getting married anytime soon. We both began our studies: I was studying economics and accounting and he was majoring in software engineering. I made my living mostly from temporary waitressing jobs, and he spent more than half his nights guarding empty buildings for a living. We didn’t have the time or the money to get married, but it was important to Amir to ‘show seriousness,’ as he explained to me later.

  About six months after Amir gave me the ‘commitment’ ring, as we liked to call it, we met up with Asi and Daria.

  “What’s this?” Daria pulled my hand toward her and looked closely at the diamond ring that adorned my finger. “Is this new?”

  “Not really -”

  “It’s the first time I’ve seen this ring.”

  “It means we don’t get to see each other enough. Or you don’t look at me enough,” I smiled.

  “Believe me, I look at you a lot.” I didn’t doubt it; Daria always made sure to scan all the people around her, more specifically all the girls, from head to toe, making sure that no one met her standards. “The fact that we hardly see each other is another story altogether... you know how busy I’ve been with school and work.” Daria rolled her eyes. She already had her beauty diploma and had a job. She didn’t have to deal with the burden of academic studies in addition to waitressing.

  “Well?” She wouldn’t let it go and went on whining, “What is this ring?” She fingered the ring. ”Is it a diamond?” she asked, surprised.

  “A small one,” I apologized.

  “It looks quite like an engagement ring.”

  “Why only ‘like’ one?” Amir burst into the conversation.

  Daria’s blue eyes widened in amazement. “Are you getting married?”

  “Yes,” Amir said.

  “At some point,” I added.

  “You can’t be serious!” she almost shouted. “This is how you tell me?”

  “There’s still nothing to tell. We don’t even
have a date yet. We just decided to declare our intentions.”

  “Declare?” she said in a defeated tone. “If I hadn’t asked, you wouldn’t have even told me.”

  “Because there still isn’t much to tell.”

  Daria wasn’t reassured. The friendly gathering ended early with a bad atmosphere. I wasn’t sure if it was because I didn’t tell her, or that she was hurt that she wasn’t the first to receive a marriage proposal, but a few days later Asi dropped down on one knee, and almost a year later, Asi and Daria were married in a lavish ceremony.

  At Asi and Daria’s wedding, Amir asked me when I wanted to get married. He was afraid that I was jealous or nervous. I wasn’t jealous. Nor was I nervous. I knew he wanted me and that someday we’d get married. A year later, we were also standing at the altar and a few months after that, Inbal and David exchanged rings as well.

  In less than two years, the three of us had gotten married and each wedding was different from the others. Our wedding was pretty standard: dusty hall, cliché flower arrangements and an ambitious three-course meal that tasted dull and was served by exhausted waiters. Daria and Asi’s wedding was all luxury and innovation. Asi's father was a successful importer who made sure his beloved son’s wedding lacked nothing. Daria switched between three dresses during the evening, which revolved all around her. The wedding was held over a pool against the backdrop of impressive water fountains, and the dinner was gourmet fare. Since I got married after Daria, it was impossible to say that I even tried to copy her wedding. While I enjoyed her wedding, which was fancy and joyful, I didn’t have the time or the money to invest too much in planning my wedding because I was a student and a full time waitress. I didn’t try on dozens of dresses. I didn’t sit for hours planning the design of the tables. Nor did I attend countless other weddings just to see the various bands available, so that I could design the perfect event for myself. Amir and I were exhausted from school and work. This was certainly reflected in our wedding, which was dull and drained, just like us.

  Of the three weddings, the wedding that was most beautiful and exciting, in my opinion, was actually Inbal and David’s. They spent perhaps half of what Amir and I spent and most probably a fifth of the cost of Daria and Asi’s wedding. It was a modest and touching event. Inbal and David invited a handful of friends and close family to a small and intimate café on the beach at Herzliya. The food served at the wedding was simple, but tasty, and the makeshift dance floor was full of friends who danced and rejoiced until the small hours. Inbal and David promised to be faithful to each other at sunset. Inbal's eyes sparkled when David put her wedding ring on her finger. She looked at him with such love that my heart twisted in jealousy. I loved Amir, but never did we exchange glances with such love as Inbal and David had.