by Dana Arama
"Are you serious? You mean to go to this event alone?"
I smiled at him. "Serious as the grave."
"You know they might attack you there?" I wondered how I would react if he said to me, “I want to be with you at an important moment like this, as your partner. I look forward to it.”
"Don’t exaggerate. I'll be surrounded by acquaintances there. No reason to be scared.”
"No panic and no exaggeration. I don’t think you should go out anywhere by yourself. They might even try something on the way.”
"Enough, Guy!" I turned and gave him a sharp look. "I'm not willing to hide indoors anymore!"
"You don’t have to hide indoors… let me come with you.” It was almost what I wanted to hear.
"Not today. I have to show a confident and independent presence. Today, it’s not okay for me to show dependence on anyone."
"No one will believe you’re depending on me. You don’t transmit it. But you do transmit that you’re vulnerable, and it’s not right!”
"I’ve decided to be there alone," I said with authority, "so be it. It doesn’t make me value your concern any less - on the contrary.” I wanted to convey vulnerability. That was the first message. The second was femininity, and the third message was to make him understand that there was no man in my life. Would Sergey swallow the bait?
I pulled a tight, red dress out of the closet. If I wanted a feminine look, it would do the trick. As for the rest - I will see that when he stands in front of me.
***
Just as I sat in the car and the gates closed behind me, I realized that maybe I was wrong. Fear of kidnapping was not an abstract for me. For me, it was as likely as fear of a terrorist attack to the Jerusalemites. It happened around me in the past, it may be repeated any moment and I knew I was under threat - a clear, marked target. This fear made my hands quiver and my foot was particularly heavy on the gas. The car gulped the miles and the view too quickly to be familiar and reassuring.
I drove through Tel Aviv and found my parking lot empty and the gallery open. Inside, Dorit and two artists whose creations were represented today were waiting for me. Everything seemed ready for a festive and calm event. A small occasion, cultured and harmless, and yet I was excited as a birthday girl. I hoped with all my heart that I could function today as a woman of a temptation.
"Wow, Gabriella, you look great!"
"Thank you." I kissed Dorit’s cheeks.
Mikayeal whispered to me, "You look like the Virgin Mary - glamorous.” A sentence like that coming from someone like Mikayeal was a true compliment. The guests’ comments began to gather, strengthening his words.
The whole evening, I stared at the street, as if I was drawn by a magnet. During polite chatter, over the heads of the guests, I was trying to locate the black Mercedes. I was not even sure that it would come. Belatedly, a modern gray Mercedes appeared, and stopped confidently outside the gallery. The color had changed, but the bodyguards were similar. I could not have prepared more thoroughly for that moment, and yet my body was uncooperative. Although I was in a supportive environment, I was shaking with fright.
"I thought I’d meet your wife tonight,” I said. The trembling in my knees made me lean on the stair rail; I thought it might look like I was looking for support because of my high heels. I prayed he didn’t sense my weakness. What’s it going to be? I asked myself. It's just a dress rehearsal, and you’re barely getting through it.
"My wife’s in Moscow just now. She can’t stand the heat of an Israeli summer. But I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I shortened my vacation, in fact." My hand was still in his hand and our eyes could not break away. It was a continuation of the chase that began years ago. He smiled, but did not look as charming as before. On the other hand, I was not the same Gabriella.
"I'm glad to see you here." How did I even get that sentence out of my mouth? "And alone." I was swinging between triumph over the success of my complex program, and the fear and hatred for the person standing before me.
"And I'm glad you didn’t forget me." He closed the space between us and whispered in my ear, "There's so many things I want to do with you."
"I'm sure!" I walked away from him with a smirk.
How dare you, I thought, then I realized that he wanted to continue to play with me. He wanted me to suffer, but my invitation took the sting out of his pleasure: if I was not aware of his cruelty, it lost its power. He thought my invitation was not out of fear or resignation, but out of ignorance about his part in my tragedy. I was afraid that the hatred would shine out of my eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Angel, who stood in the doorway, saved me from overexposure.
"I must greet the rest of my guests. I hope you enjoy our new discoveries."
I went to the door with a smile. "Berta, am I glad to see you!" I said to Berta Angel. My voice was high and shrill to my ears. Stop getting excited, I told myself. She came to the stairs and stopped. I knew she had recently recovered from femur surgery so I held out my arm. She leaned against it and came up them with deliberate care. Nissim Angel, by contrast, was as vigorous as ever. "Our Gabriella! Berta was so happy when she opened the invitation,” he said, glancing at his wife who nodded vigorously.
"He's right. Really, I was filled with happiness. Immediately I told him that for this, we’ll drive down from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. The driver will come to the door when we want to go back. I won’t have to go far."
"I made sure in advance to have a comfortable seat for you.” I said, pointing to the designer, but comfortable, armchair. I put it at a strategic point, not too far from the door, but with a good view of the gallery’s inner space.
"Gabriella, my dear, the driver will bring my wheelchair. I want to hang around and see the chosen works. You always have excellent taste!" While their driver brought the wheelchair to the gallery, I sat with her on the couch and took advantage of the moment to follow Sergey. Once he arrived, everything moved like a fog. It was only with great difficulty that I could attend to the other guests. Bertha's calming presence and Nissim, who had known me from childhood, gave me the strength to continue playing with Sergey. The circle and a star of David inside tattooed on his chest, the name that came up in the police reports and Dan’s letter – it all pointed to him as the guilty party. Flirting with the enemy in the distance, I planted the idea that I was an innocent sacrifice, ready for slaughter. I seduced him into wanting to see me again. I wanted him alone, here.
Chapter 23
The gallery was empty and quiet. Tel Aviv’s night scene was already in full swing. Dorit and I sat in the corner that functioned as my office, hidden from the street. We ended and summarized the income from the event and future orders, and we raised a last drink to a better future.
"Five words: the evening was a success."
She did not know me. The ‘success’ would only be if Sergey came here next week - alone. "Yes. You're right. It's because of you. You did an outstanding job."
"The pleasure was all mine. But you, you were a real star. I'm so glad you're back to yourself." She looked at her watch. "Wow, it’s late. I need to go. Will you want to keep me on here, if you’re ready to take the reins again?"
"Yes, definitely. Does the course you wanted to take still take place on Tuesdays?"
"Yes." I recognized a look of surprise mixed with satisfaction on her face.
"So, Tuesdays will be mine." I declared. My war was built from small conquests. I have conquered Tuesdays, I thought.
"Thank you for remembering. Excellent. You’ll be okay closing up? Do you have your keys? Remember the code?"
"Everything’s fine." I took the keys from the files and I recited the password. "Go in peace. We'll talk on Sunday, right?"
"Bye.” She disappeared into the light of the street lamps and I was alone. When I was a little girl, I was afraid of the moon and the stars. In the dark, they seemed threatening. In my mind, they were approaching me and threatening to swallow me and all my loved ones. When I was six, I used to go f
or walks with my mom. It was a way to get me over that fear. Now, the fear caused me to lock the door and pull out my cell phone.
"You at home?" I asked Guy.
"Has something happened?"
"No. We're done here and I wanted to know that I'm not going back to an empty house."
"You're alone there?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to lock up and wait for me to come for you?"
"You’d come all the way from Savion just to fetch me?”
"I’m not so far. I can be there in minutes.”
"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
"You didn’t. Lock up and wait inside. I’m on my way.”
"I already locked up, thank you."
I waited in the dark. For years, I had no fear of it, but now it threatened to raise demons. They hid in the footsteps of strangers outside, thoughts of Guy returning to his lover's apartment in Tel Aviv, and in memories. I went back to the corner office and opened the drawer of my own desk. I could see nothing in the darkness, but I knew there was a picture in there, from our last vacation. Dan was on my right and Robbie was on my left. They were both kissing me. The Japanese surfer that took the photo of us told us in broken English, “Perfect family.” I agreed with him. The problem was that the family was no longer a perfect whole. Soon, this very drawer would contain a bottle of wine and two glasses. In one of the glasses would be a liquid that would mix well with the wine. Soon, the box I ordered would also be here.
The ringing cell phone made me jump, interrupting my thoughts.
"I'm outside. You can come out."
I looked out and saw a figure on a motorcycle. "You're on the bike?"
"Yes. Come on. I'll follow you home."
"Coming out. Just wanted to make sure it's really you, because of the helmet."
"Oh, so you’ve learned to be careful, now?" I could hear the amusement in his voice.
"Yes." I closed the drawer and locked it. "I have an excellent teacher. I’m leaving."
I typed the code and locked the door behind me. The street lamps provided me with enough light. I started the car and slid out into the road. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark car emerge with the lights off. I lowered the window. "I think someone’s following me," I said to the figure on the bike.
"I know. I saw them on my first circuit of the block. They sat in the car showing no lights, even though it was running and watched us. Soon enough we’ll have another kind of escorting."
"What do we do in the meantime?"
"Head off toward the house. I’m right behind."
I got onto Dizengoff Street, Guy and the dark car followed immediately behind. Like every Thursday night, the traffic crawled. Nevertheless, red and blue lights managed to find their way to me. Under the bridge of Dizengoff Square, my unwanted trackers had decided that it was better for them to go in a different direction. I released the air trapped in my lungs. The police escort split up; the car was in front of me and the motorcycle behind me. I followed the police car to the city exit. Only now did I feel the danger ease. The adrenaline that, until now, had kept me wide awake, left me at once, and fatigue descended on me.
"You’re slowing down. Is everything all right?" Guy's voice filled the car.
"How can you talk if you are on a motorcycle?"
"I have Bluetooth helmet. Are you okay?"
"I'm so tired. I want to get home."
"This is not the time to switch gears, Gabi. We're not home yet.”
"You think they’ll show up again?”
"They might. They might even be waiting at home. To some extent, I feel sorry that the police escort didn’t stay around.”
"Are you worried?”
"I’m not concerned. I’d just rather be prepared for any situation." After a short break I heard him ask, "Are you falling asleep?"
"No. I’m thinking..."
"Stop thinking... start talking to me. I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel."
"Why did they start to follow me now?"
"I’m not at all confident they started now. Perhaps they were watching the house and followed you out to the gallery. Maybe they monitored both of us and waited for us to leave the house together?”
"Now I'm far from falling asleep. How do you plan we get inside the house?"
“I don’t want you to wait in the street. Go into the grounds and wait in the car. I'll see if the house is empty and I’ll let you in. If you see that I’m delayed, you reverse back out of the drive and go to the nearest police station.”
"And leave you with them?" My stomach shrank again in fear.
"Leave me with them. I'll manage."
"I'm glad you followed me. And you kept me awake."
We were now in front of the gates. They began to open slowly. The yard lights came on automatically. I blessed Guy for insisting on changing my lighting arrangements. "It's really not safe for you that way. Any woman who lives alone shouldn’t have to come home to complete darkness." So I just agreed to it, rather than tell him that the woman who lived alone in this house never went out and would never think of returning at night.
I waited in the car on the drive and watched as Guy disappeared into the dark house. Now, alone, I looked in all directions with suspicion. My eye caught my reflection in the car mirror. A few more days, I told her, and you'll have to deal with him face to face! Can you do it? Have you got what it takes? "It’s not what I have," I said to myself in the mirror. "It’s who I don’t have that drives me on."
The house lights came on and the front door opened. Guy came back with a piece of paper. I lowered the window. "This is from the security company. The alarm warned them about an attempted burglary. At first glance, there’s no sign of penetration. I went through the house. It’s empty."
"If they didn’t enter by force, it’s a sign that they tried to hide their entry."
"Or they've been in and out. It’s possible. Anyway, I want you to go in now and see if you’re missing something, or anything’s been disturbed. If not, you can go to bed.”
"If only for that, I hope they didn’t enter." I maneuvered slowly into the garage and the door dropped slowly behind me. A little more, I thought, and it's over. This chase won’t go on forever.
"Come on, then. Last effort for today,” Guy said. He had read my mind.
***
In the study, there were no signs of disturbance. All the cases were in place, the safe was closed, and I checked the piece of paper I had put at the back of the drawer. It was still there. Guy had not tried to open it. My shower was short and cool and woke me up completely. I lay alone in my bed and watched the world news. The French channel was my favorite, perhaps because it took me to views I knew and loved. Sometimes, it was enough just to see them. I did not want to hear the news stories themselves. They were so shrouded in sadness that I called them ‘contaminants.’ They hurt my beautiful landscapes.
The blonde announcer wore a short-sleeved jacket and looked like a model. Now she wore a serious expression on her face, probably because of the following story. In the upper right of the screen was a picture of a familiar face. I groped for the remote control and turned the volume up. “... the body was found near railroad tracks in a decomposed state a week ago, but police have only now made known the identity of the victim..." I tried to analyze things and their meaning. When was the first time they broadcast this story? Before Sergey came to the gallery, or after? Did he know beforehand?
I heard a knock on the door. "Are you awake?" The softness in Guy’s voice contradicted the purposeful broadcaster's voice.
“Quick!"
"What happened?" He stood next to the bed. His eyes were drawn immediately to the TV screen and the picture of Evgeny. "I guess they found our guy."
"A week ago. Only now have they released his name."
"Did they say anything about fingerprints?"
"I don’t think so."
“... gang warfare. The victim is known to have been a
member of the Russian mafia which operates in a number of European countries…" The announcer went on and we drank her words greedily. "For now there is no clear line of inquiry. Police continue to seek further information."
“I hope they don’t try too hard," I said. Guy nodded in agreement. He sat on the bed next to me. I turned and looked at his profile and then at the TV screen. His response was as significant for my future, as the words of the announcer.
“He's not worth the effort. They just want to keep gang wars to a minimum. They don’t want innocent civilians getting hurt."
I looked at him with a smile. "You think like an innocent citizen. Let the criminals kill each other.”
“It’s one way to clean up the world.”
I turned off the TV. "As you're here, and we’re awake…”
He lay down next to me and kissed me the same way he touched me… but not the touching that I had learned to love. I closed my eyes and I enjoyed the feel of his lips on my lips, my neck, my shoulders. I enjoyed feeling his body on mine, the heat from his solid body, the touch of his rough fingers on my skin. I wanted him inside me right away, but he kept me waiting. Today, I knew I would get satisfaction slowly.
***
I woke up with a jolt and a hand over my mouth. Guy was leaning over me, fully alert. Without a word, he put a finger to his mouth and I realized that I had to be very quiet. He got out of bed quickly and pulled me along with him. He quietly opened the bathroom door and told me to hide there. He stood at the front door to the room.
The scene was taken from a silent movie and played out in fast-forward on the great mirror on the wall in front of me. The door opened slowly. A large man walked into the room, very quietly. Guy stood behind him, raised his arms and the man fell back, like a deflated balloon. Guy lowered the large attacker to the floor and peered through the door.
He came back into the room and went to the closet, quickly returning with two of Dan’s ties and socks. The man lying on the floor had his legs and hands bound with ties that were worth more than a hundred dollars, in his mouth a wad of expensive sport socks.
