by Dana Arama
At the edge, near the tap, were three large containers. The yellow label, I already knew. I went and checked the label on one of them, which was torn. I took out my wallet to take out the piece of label I’d found in the trunk of the Cayenne. It fitted perfectly.
It was a huge amount of acid. It could melt an entire body.
I saw a corner bath. Now I had no doubt that the list I found related to this place. A little further away stood a table with a scalpel and syringes. I took another look around. I saw that there was nothing, just the bare concrete floor, and the ceiling and walls padded with neoprene material to absorb noise. Someone will scream in pain here, I thought grimly.
I studied the syringes on the table. Some of them were already charged with colored materials. I recognized only one: adrenaline. Had she found out about my allergy? Now I was sure I was the ‘human punch bag’ she’d talked to Pierre about. At that point, I didn’t know who to fear more - the Russian mafia, or her. What if this whole ‘Russian mafia issue’ didn’t exist? What if it was only in my imagination? After all, she never admitted that there was a real threat coming from them.
I wondered if she was going to bring in a beehive after she cuffed me. In an agricultural moshav, she’d have no problem finding one. I made a note to check with Nadav if she was a suspect in the murder of her husband and son. Who knows, maybe she’s a fucking psychopath, a serial killer? Forget about fucking her anymore, I told myself. Who was to say I wasn’t just coaching a serial killer to be more effective? And what did that make me? An accomplice to her plans, or worse, nurturing her murderous tendencies? I climbed back up via the power of my muscular arms. I put the lid back, but did not replace the screws. Maybe I'd need to get away, I thought. The hatch might be the ace up my sleeve. As I sat on the bike, I felt like I did before an operation, before a night dive. I knew how things started. I’d no idea how they would end. One thing I was sure: I wasn’t going to fold now!
All the way back, I was focused on my next steps. First and foremost, I knew I couldn’t reveal my information. To be honest, I didn’t want to. I was too curious to end it all just yet. Although I was taking a bad risk, I wanted to give myself a safety net. The first step would be to inform the best person I knew - Nadav. I considered sending him an email with details of the address and description of the contents found in it, but I knew that would lead to an immediate response. Before the SWAT team got there and stopped her on the spot, I wanted to give her another chance and try to figure out what was really going on under my nose. My thoughts flew by faster than the billboards I passed. When I got close to Savion, I also challenged her Parisian story. That could be a cover trap… a way to isolate me for at least a week before there’d be questions. In that time, I could die several times. By the time I reached the outskirts of Savion, I’d made my decision.
***
At the house, I found a pair of tickets to Paris and a voucher for a hotel room at the Four Seasons. I looked at the forms and learned that, next week, I’d be spending five days in Paris with her. One room was booked for the both of us. It’s interesting, I thought. If she hadn’t planned it in advance, and as I only had sex with her yesterday, wouldn’t she have reserved two rooms? The details of the ticket in my name were accurate. It didn’t surprise me, since I’d given them to her before I went north.
Before I went to my room, I glanced at the pool. Through the glass window, I could see her sitting with her eyes closed, dressed in soft white clothes, on a thin mattress, in a yoga pose. She was deceptive. On the one hand, she could be brutally charged, and on the other, she could be completely relaxed. For a moment, I was glad that the new semester would start soon, requiring me to leave. I could fall in love with her, if only because it was so unexpected.
I took advantage of the fact that she was immersed in yoga to go back and check the entries in the leather notebook. I walked into the room. I pulled out my cell phone ready to aim the camera. The notebook was no longer in the drawer. The drawer below it was locked. Was it in its permanent place, I thought, and yesterday she only accidentally left it in the open drawer? I shook it a little bit. Jimmying the lock was out of the question. I didn’t have enough time for that and didn’t want to leave a trail. I left the room. I crept down the stairs and headed toward the living room.
I saw that she was not in the pool.
"What were you looking for in my room?" she demanded from behind me. Her voice bubbled with anger. I turned to face her. She stood there, barefoot, in transparent white clothes.
"What else would I have been looking for?" I replied with a smile, "You, of course!” This time, I had an answer ready. I was glad I hadn’t found the notebook. Because she’d just arrived, she could think I went in and went out.
"Next time, just call me. I promise to come.” She approached me, giving me a smile of reconciliation. She lifted her face and kissed me lightly. I sucked her lips. Knowing that she could wield a knife just teased me more.
"Hmm. Your scent… dust mingled with the scent of a leather jacket. Reminds me of old times."
The way she expressed her sensuality was wonderful and turned me on right away. "Want to go upstairs?" I whispered in her ear. At that moment, the torture chamber in the north was forgotten, the e-mail I should probably be writing to Nadav was forgotten, and the tickets to Paris were forgotten. We were just two of us, alone, in the heat, like stray cats.
"Why upstairs? What's wrong with here?"
Quickly, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and started to undress her, too, slowly and patiently. I stroked her shirt. My fingertips stimulated her skin. I felt her nipples piercing my chest. With one hand, I opened her bra clasp. I removed her white cotton shirt and bra together. Her breasts filled the palm of my hand and I wanted to put them in my mouth and feel them get hard. I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around me. Her nipples were now just where I wanted them, just in front of my mouth.
I pulled off my boots and let Gabby remove the rest of my clothes. I didn’t think it could be better than yesterday, but it was. Just before I finished, I stopped her. I laid her on the carpet and lay down next to her. I put one hand behind her head and turned her head so that her neck was exposed to my lips. My other hand moved over her body until I reached between her legs. With two fingers, I explored her. She was moist and inviting. I slipped one finger inside, and she arched toward me. Her clitoris swelled and left its hiding place. It was a sign to get out and explore too.
We shagged on the thick carpet until evening. After dinner, and after a shower, I sat down to write to Nadav. I described my trip and my discoveries. I added the exact position of the farm and explained my suspicions. I finished the letter with: "We’re flying to Paris in the last week of June and return the next week. If you don’t hear from me when I land in Paris, I'm afraid you'll find me in the morgue.” I put the letter in the black bag with my dirty laundry. I was going to send it tomorrow, on the way to the moshav.
I did not know that within twenty-four hours, I’d have more urgent messages for him, and my letter would be completely forgotten.
***
Friday began with a loud ring. I reached for my phone.
"What's going on?" I asked sleepily.
"You're coming home today?"
"I'm planning to. What's up?"
“Just reminding you that it’s our parents’ wedding anniversary. You might want to bring them something.”
"Cool. Thanks for reminding me. Have you thought about something specific?" During our conversation, I tried to work out when and where I could stop to buy something. Maybe I’d skip my workout and stop by Tel Aviv where I’d have a variety of presents to choose from.
"I’ve no idea. It’s Iris’s job to worry about gifts. Try to come as early as possible. Okay. I have to pick up the Thais.” He didn’t wait for my response. I rolled over and looked out. Scraps of darkness clung to the sky. Every conversation with Yoav led to a slight sting in the heart. I guess they were gu
ilty feelings. Ten years ago, when I was drafted, I didn’t know enough to appreciate his investment in the farm. Working in the wee hours of the morning was just a part of it, the smaller part.
My conscience wouldn’t let me go back to sleep. I put on my Speedos and brushed my teeth. I looked at Gabriella's closed door and went out to the pool. As I went, I thought, maybe she'd like to join me for a walk in Tel Aviv. She’d be full of good advice about a gift for my parents.
I counted fifty laps and left. I had managed to keep a steady and fast pace and I was pleased. My energy levels were already different. I had surging testosterone to thank for that. Thus encouraged, I went outside. The morning had come and a cool breeze caressed my wet body. In an hour, the wind would disappear and the air would become humid and oppressive.
I went back to my room and prepared for a quick shower. Out of habit, I looked at my cell monitor and saw a message waiting for me. For a moment, I had a feeling it was Hadas. But it was my mother. "Guy’chuk, Yoavi and Iris are planning a party tonight. Maybe bring your boss? So she won’t be alone and it will get her out of the house for a little while?"
I returned her call. "Hello Mama, Happy anniversary," I said in French. She liked to talk to me in her native tongue. Perhaps it facilitated communication.
"My son!" I heard the joy in her voice. "Did you get the message I left you?"
"Yes, Mom, I listened to it. I'll invite Gabriella to join us, but I’m not sure she will." I ran my hand over the stubble on my face. I must shave, I thought.
"Mom, is there anything you’d like for your anniversary?"
"Oh, absolutely not. We have everything. Just come - convince her to come too. It would be nice for her and for us."
"Okay, Mom, I'll try, though I can make no promises. See you soon.”
I shaved carefully, so the shower was not as fast as I wanted. I was in the middle of cutting salad when Gabriella got up. Whisking eggs in a pan, I told her about the party in the evening. "It’s no big deal. Nothing serious. Just a pleasant atmosphere."
"Thank you inviting me. I'd love to join a village party! Let's give up on training today and go buy a present for your parents!"
I could tell from her voice that she was really happy. "Don’t have exaggerated expectations. It’s just dinner with the family and a few friends from the moshav."
"Great. Sounds like something I’d enjoy very much."
"The very fact that you don’t need more than jeans and a T-shirt is promising."
"No, no, no - jeans are okay, but at least wear a button-down shirt. Your mother will feel that you appreciate this festive event.”
I smiled at her. "Hadas always wanted to tell me how to dress. I can see this is something all women share."
"There are women who love to dress. Others prefer to strip." She smiled. "I like both."
"Yes, I know. And you do both very well. "
What else do you do that I don’t know? I prayed that it wasn’t a mistake to bring her to my parents' house.
The cheese I added to the eggs began to bubble in the pan. I took two plates from the cupboard and placed the eggs in the center of each. "Eggs are ready," I said. "Want some coffee?"
"Of course." She got up and went to the coffee machine.
I felt like I was having breakfast with Dr. Jekyll, with Mr. Hyde hiding somewhere inside. The picture of the refrigerated room kept flashing in front of me. Flirting with what could turn out to be more dangerous to me than her opponents, gave me a thrill. For now, let her have the benefit of the doubt… or was I allowing myself to enjoy it?
***
Friday in Tel Aviv means non-stop movement. Entering the city center with a big vehicle was a nightmare. I consoled myself with the Cayenne's powerful air conditioner, which fought the unbearable humidity of the coastal plain well. It was eleven in the morning and the movement in the State Square was at its peak.
"It’ll take us two hours just to find parking here," I muttered impatiently.
"We’ll do one round and if we don’t find one, we’ll go somewhere else. How does that sound?"
"That sounds okay.” My conciliatory tone made her lay a comforting hand on my arm. We went from State Square to another square, which I didn’t know, but there was parking. I bought a gift for my parents and she bought another. From there, we went into an old deli and bought some special cheeses I knew my mother would love.
"You keep kosher at home?"
"Kosher-style French food. Nothing’ll work if there is no butter in it."
"Your mother’s French?" I heard the surprise in her voice.
"She is," I explained, "but her parents came from Algeria to France.” We worked our way through dozens of people who filled the sidewalk. "My grandparents didn’t bring her up Zionist, and they were really opposed to her moving to Israel, but she was an ardent Zionist. She gave up her medical studies, the partnership in the family clinic and immigrated to Israel."
"So your European look comes from your father?”
"Yes. This side of the family came from Russia. He’s also tall and broad. We look very much like him.”
"We?"
"Me and my brother. Yoav. He’s the one organizing the party for them."
We got to the car. I put the bags in the trunk.
"Want to pass by the house or shall we set off? If we have time, I'll show you round the moshav. The planters in our region, the fields ..."
"You said the dress code was casual. If so, we can go.”
Standing in the darkness of the parking lot, between the many cars that filled it, I kissed her. The image would eventually be published in the newspaper and tie us to a murder.
Chapter 16
I only noticed that we were being followed when I got to the smaller roads near the moshav. At first, I thought the people in the white Subaru were aiming weapons at us. The camera lens was huge and black, and looked like an RPG launcher. I cut through the fields and drove quickly along the roads I knew well. The Subaru came in after us.
Gabi studied me intently. "Did something happen?"
"Someone’s following and pointing a camera at us."
"Oh, the paparazzi, they will not leave us alone." I heard a note of sadness and resignation in her voice.
"There’s no such problem. What am I here for? Just hold tight."
I zigzagged between the plots of our moshav to those of our neighbors. I knew that the paparazzi followed the cloud of dust that we'd left, so I went to the area where flowers were grown in the open. From there, I planned to continue to the vineyards covered with nets. It was the best place I could think of to hide the car and continue on foot.
I stopped the car where I wanted and shut off the engine. I got out of the car, but didn’t shut the door. In the village, the slamming of a car door can be heard far and wide. The silence around us jarred my ears, especially after the bustle of the city. From a distance, I heard the sound of a car engine, maybe even two.
"I think you did it." I heard her whisper by my side. Her face wore a happy smile.
"I think so, too. I don’t want them to locate my parents' house. We don’t want them to start worrying them."
"You're quite right. Can we leave the car here?"
I nodded.
"This area’s yours?”
"This is our territory," I replied, pointing to the right, "and that’s our neighbor's plot, which we lease," I continued, pointing to the plot in front of her.
I closed the doors quietly, locked them manually, and began to walk between the rows of trees. I looked for a ripe peach to give her. It wasn’t easy after days of selective harvesting. I found one that was good for eating hidden in the leaves. I bent the branch down and I picked the fruit. I wiped it on my pants leg (as I have done since my childhood) and gave it to her. Suddenly, I was glad I wasn’t completely detached from what was happening here. I was proud to tell her, "Our production’s becoming more professional. I’m very happy that Yoav, my brother, was the one who decided to continue
our parent's farm."
"This peach is wonderful!" she exclaimed after she had wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "Why does it please you?"
"It’s a heavy burden to take on,” I replied. “Take, for example, this net, covering this plot." I pointed to the covered patch of grapes where we’d left the Cayenne. "It costs hundreds of thousands of dollars and ensures only partial protection from the damage that could occur here."
"You sound a lot more involved in it than I expected." I felt something that made me open up to her more. "And even though I'm involved, and I admire my brother and his choices, I plan to go a different way.”
I saw genuine curiosity glowing in her beautiful green eyes. "I suppose you're going to the sea, right? Does your choice to go to sea stem from a desire not to be on the farm, or from your skills?"
"I love what I do, and I believe I’m good at it. Otherwise I wouldn’t able to finish my tour in the commando unit." I stopped for a moment. "Breathe deeply, smell the village. Intoxicating, isn’t it?"
She paused and took a deep breath. "Really intoxicating."
"So that’s it." I held her hand as we skirted the big pond. "For me, the smell of the sea is the real thing."
We walked on in silence. I wanted to tell her that leaving the moshav was just the beginning of a life that I had wished for myself for a long time. I wanted to work for the Mossad. But I didn’t tell her about my dreams. Instead, I told her stories from my childhood. "I remember, when we were children, my father would give us a chance to drive a tractor. Yoav always did a good job. Slowly, patiently, he’d load the boxes on the wagon. I, on the other hand, every time I did it, was bored to death. I’d begin to zigzag and it’d drive them crazy. I always managed to destroy something.”
