The Crystal Circle: A Paranormal Romance Novel

by L. Rosenman

  “Oh, you’re back. Dad, this gentleman was looking for you earlier.”

  “Yes?” Mr. David turned his face to Saul with a professional smile. “How may I help you, sir?”

  “It’s personal. Can I speak with you for a moment in private? Perhaps we’ll step outside?” Saul asked quietly with a shy smile. Mr. David had no problem complying with the polite request, and they went to the entrance of the store. Saul put his arm around his shoulders. He was much taller and bulkier than the older man, who was short and fragile.

  “My name’s Danny,” he lied. “Mr. Barkin sent me about...” While talking, Saul led him into the courtyard to the side of the store, looked right and left, and then, without warning, attacked. The punch to David’s nose knocked him off his feet. They could still be seen from the street, so Saul hurriedly dragged his stumbling and groaning prey into the yard between the buildings. In the yard, where nobody could see them, Saul continued his assault without saying a word, punching, kicking, and growling until his victim lost consciousness and lay bleeding on the floor.

  Saul wiped his hands on his clothes and went out into the street. He continued south. Contrary to what he expected, he received little satisfaction from what he’d just done. Although the urge to take revenge and beat David subsided, he didn’t know the reason for the attack. It was simply uncontrollable! Saul wandered around south Tel Aviv, still searching for a clue to his identity, anything that might stimulate his memory. As he walked quickly through the streets, he noticed a shadow stepping away from a house and following him from about two hundred meters away. Maybe it was because of the assault? He looked for a crowded place so that he could lose his stalker.

  Within half an hour, he reached the edge of Nahalat Binyamin Street. Pickups and utility vehicles were parked along the street. People were setting up some sort of a fair.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked a passerby.

  “You don’t know? Every Friday, there’s a fair. The Nahalat Binyamin Fair. Art and handmade gifts.”

  “Thank you,” Saul replied and rushed toward the fair, which was more like a market. Among crowds of people, he felt safe, and hoped to reveal a hint. Who the hell am I? His mind began to be bombarded with fragments of memories: papers flying, bloodstained pages, shouting, water, and more water. It was scary. There was something hiding in his memory. Maybe I’m a hit man? He shuddered. It didn’t seem like something he’d want to do.

  Then he heard one of the traders who was setting up his stand beside him say to his friend, “Have you heard? David sold two wooden sculptures to an American couple who passed by his stand last week. Scored eight hundred dollars in one sale.”

  “Excuse me,” he turned to the speaker quietly and politely. “Sorry to interrupt. Which David were you speaking of?”

  “David. David, the wood carver. There, down the road.” Saul felt light flashes in his eye sockets. If there was another David, then who was the David from before? He turned to people randomly, asking, “Have you seen David?”

  “Which David?” some asked.

  “Sorry, we don’t know.”

  “David, from the falafel stand? – step out of the Carmel Market and it’s on your right.”

  “David? David? Mmm... yeah. There’s one here in the Herzel Post Office… is that who you’re looking for? Go right and then left. Oh... David the wood carver? I don’t know.”

  “David?” laughed a large lady, her meaty skin dripping from her dress and her hair rolled up. “David’s my husband. You’re probably not looking for him. What David are you looking for, sir? Sir?”

  Saul realized that he had probably been too quick to attack David, the stationery store owner, as there were a lot of Davids. A whole lot. He went into a small internet café and looked up the David & Sons stationery store online. He copied the phone number onto a piece of paper and dialed from a public phone until the young man answered.

  “Listen,” he said, “Your father’s lying injured in the courtyard behind the store. Call an ambulance.” He hung up and returned to the market immediately. It was the least he could do. After wandering about aimlessly, he sat and waited. David would probably be revealed soon. Two things bothered him. The first, where was the real David? This question burned like gunpowder in his stomach; and the second, who was he? Surely his name wasn’t Saul. Where did he belong? What was his past? He remembered throwing away a wedding ring when he got up in the morning, and was still dazed, but he couldn’t remember sleeping at the hotel. To whom was he married? Was his wife looking for him? He didn’t feel any need for marriage or children. Maybe I’m a man who’s unhappy with his marriage... why imprison myself voluntarily?

  Then he saw a man, about forty, setting out his goods on the counter: bracelets and sandals made of leather with names etched on them. When he was satisfied, he placed a sign on the counter bearing his name on the podium: Jonathan Gould.

  “Are you Jonathan?” Saul turned to him.

  “Yes.” Jonathan looked at him and frowned, trying to remember if he knew him.

  “Where are you hiding David? Tell me!”

  “David? What David are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play coy with me. I know you’re hiding him. I’m looking for him, and he knows it. So where is he?”

  Jonathan realized that he was dealing with a person who’d lost his mind, but nevertheless replied pleasantly, “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else… I don’t know of any David.”

  “Liar!” Saul grabbed the man by his collar. “Everyone knows that Jonathan’s hiding David. Don’t feed me this bullshit.”

  “Leave me alone… you’re crazy!” Jonathan twisted out of Saul’s grasp and said quietly, “If you don’t get out of here right now, I’ll call the police.”

  From the corner of his eye, Saul noticed a couple of police officers patrolling a few hundred meters away. He didn’t want to attract their attention, so he retreated back into the market.

  Saul saw a pretty woman, pale and soft in the right places, wearing a Bedouin dress made out of flimsy floral fabric that flapped in the breeze. Her hair was fair, gathered on her back in a single thick braid, a fresh red rose fixed upon it. Her appearance was perfected by dozens of beaded necklaces and bracelets around her neck and both her wrists. A small tattoo of an eagle stretched around the back of her neck and shoulder. She finished arranging her jewelry stand - brooches, necklaces, bracelets and much more - all of them combined with beads, feathers, and colored accessories. Saul was very attracted to her. He stood and looked at her and her merchandise until she finished and caught his stare.

  “Hi, how may I help you?” She spoke with an accent, a little Russian or maybe South American. “How much?” He stared openly at her and only then turned to look at the booth and pointed randomly at a hairpin. “How much is that, please?”

  “Forty shekels,” she said. He looked at her for a long while and then pulled out the money and handed her the bills. When she asked if she should gift wrap it, he said, “No need, I’m about to give it right now to someone I truly admire.” She looked at him in amazement. Saul handed the clip back to her and said, “This is for you, gorgeous. It’ll suit your hair.”

  The woman giggled and blushed. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Saul,” he replied. “And you?”

  “I’m Anna.”

  “Anna, I’m really glad to meet you. You’re a flower blooming in the wilderness and the field of thorns around us,” he said, vaguely gesturing at the bustling street around them.

  Anna said, “Thank you, Saul.”

  “Tell me,” he asked suddenly. “Do you happen to know David? I’ve been looking for him all morning.”

  “David from the market? He was selling small wooden sculptures, but I think he wasn’t doing so well, and he said he won’t be back. He went to work in the market stalls in Eilat. Who knows? You do mean David the wood carver, right?”

  Saul thought for a moment and replie
d, “Yeah, I guess. What does he look like?” “Uh... I think brown hair, maybe a little reddish. Has a bouncy way of walking, like a panther.”

  “Yes, that’s him,” Saul enthused, “for sure! Are you sure he left?”

  “Yes, he left for Eilat,” she said, returning her attention to arranging some rings on a black velvet pad. “It’s been a week since I saw him, and they’ve already hired out his stall to someone else.”

  “Tell me,” Saul said and smiled when he saw the sun shining in Anna’s eyes, appreciating her beautiful smile. She was about forty or forty-five. “Are you free?”

  “How d’you mean?” she hesitated.

  “You married, got a boyfriend or something?”

  “No, of course not,” she replied quickly and then corrected herself. “I’m an artist. Artists don’t have the patience for strong-minded husbands.” She laughed loudly and added, “I’m divorced. No children.”

  “Can I hit on you?”

  “I don’t know, Saul. We just met. Sit, talk, and we’ll see.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” he smiled. “I’m hungry. It’s almost lunch. Can I get you a sandwich? A salad? What do you like?”

  “I could go for a salad with whole wheat bread. Thank you.”

  17/06/2013 - Second day of disappearance

  Saul organized the living room. It was a tiny bohemian apartment, as small as 430 square feet, facing a courtyard between buildings in the Old North of Tel Aviv. The courtyard had a sense of abandonment about it: large garbage cans, some of them lopsided; cats howling; weeds; and a small vegetable garden someone once fenced and planted only to abandon it later on. Wildflowers and cacti were now growing there.

  Long fabrics from India hung from every wall in Anna’s artsy apartment. “Beautiful backdrops,” she called them. Other than that, the apartment contained tables, boxes, and crates filled with various accessories for making jewelry. Pictures of various Indian saints were also visible along with a jumble of colorful packets of coffee, sugar, and rice cakes in every corner of the small kitchen. After browsing the Internet on the small computer in the living room, Saul sat down in the kitchenette near the small pullout shelf on the wall and had a morning cup of coffee.

  He looked around with interest. The tumult and disorder didn’t suit him, probably because he wasn’t that kind of person in his previous world. But who was he in this world? He had no answer. Very large portions of his life were gone from his memory. It bothered him a lot to be a man of his age without a past, but with a lot of knowledge in different fields. For example, he realized that he had knowledge of finance. He deduced this from the passion with which he read the financial pages once the newspaper arrived in the morning. Stock market analysis and variations in securities delighted him. He memorized them and was sure of what should be the proper investment that day. That is... if he had any money. I’m an economist or an investment company owner. I mean... I was, before I lost my memory, he thought.

  The day before, he and Anna sat at her stall in Nahalat Binyamin market and talked until very late. He also helped her sell, speaking kindly with a smile, and using the words of an expert with reference to the jewelry, about which he had not the faintest idea. He helped her prepare a table of income and expenses and to fill out tax invoices. He also explained that it was wiser to put the cash people paid her directly in her purse as long as they didn’t ask for a receipt.

  “The government takes too much money from the citizen without compunction. Ordinary citizens should be allowed to make a few pennies for themselves. A person must live!”

  Anna was horrified by the idea and immediately wrote the receipts herself. He backed off quickly, careful not to pressure her. He gallantly offered to pack all the goods and carry the boxes home, which was ten blocks away. Anna happily accepted. It was a lucky day: Not only did she earn over 2000 NIS, but also found a charming and intelligent gentleman, a suitor who helped her out. Over at her apartment, he carried the crates up, and she naturally offered to cook dinner for them. The spaghetti and meat sauce pleased his palate.

  “Wait until you taste my Ensalada de Pollo,” she said.

  “Cold chicken salad! I love it,” he enthused.

  “Do you speak Spanish? I’m Argentinean,” Anna wondered. Saul was surprised about the origin of this knowledge, and said he didn’t think so. Who knew what other things lay in his mind without his awareness? He decided that there was no reason to rush to find David. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, unless he was that redheaded guy traveling to Eilat. In the meantime, he had a little piece of paradise he was very pleased about. That night, after two glasses of red wine, they lay naked on the bed lined with silk scarves, and made love to the music of a famous Indian sitar player. Saul swore he’d never had a woman as beautiful and vibrant as her, and the fact that he couldn’t remember any other women meant it wasn’t even a lie. He told her that he was on a quest to find his past on account of his memory loss.

  “But some fortunate fate delivered you to me, Anushka!” And how lucky he was to have Anna to finance his next move! Saul was now without cash as he couldn’t remember what hotel he’d woken up in earlier.

  They laughed and cuddled for a long while. He listened with interest to her life story and the story of her divorce, and when she turned to him with a direct question - why wasn’t he going to the police to go through the missing person lists? - he explained that he preferred it that way. If, God forbid, he was wanted by the police for parking tickets or a DUI, he might be arrested for some nonsense.

  “Maybe I’m divorced and owe alimony for the past week? Better I solve the matter myself. My memory will come back. I’m sure.”

  The truth was that Saul was horrified by the idea of turning to the police because of his incident with David, the store owner. Who knew if the man, who was very old, had survived it? The adventure in which he found himself stirred his senses, and he had no doubt that he’d soon solve the mystery without help from the police. He knew that the key was David

  Anna was quick to agree. She didn’t want to arouse anger or resistance in him. Saul was so gentle and considerate and great in bed. He fussed around her and pampered her just like an ardent Latin suitor. She went to the little kitchenette, fragrant and made-up, emerging from the bedroom floating in a multitude of Indian silk dresses.

  “Listen,” said Saul, “I was thinking... You’re a really talented artist. Your designs are very popular with women. I’ve seen it for myself. Generally speaking, yesterday I went seeking donkeys and found kingship...”

  “Meaning?” Anna asked in amazement.

  “Something from the Bible. Come on, you know. The story of King Saul, searching for missing donkeys when he was still just a regular guy. He ended up crossing paths with the prophet and becoming the king. Remember?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It means that I found you, my amazing, beautiful princess. So… how about we both go to Eilat?”

  “Eilat? Why?” Anna asked in wonder, brushing her thick, fair hair.

  “I believe the future’s in the hotels over there. Have you seen how many hotels they have there? I just saw it on the Internet. Take a few good samples, show them to the hotel managers there and, you’ll see, they’ll be happy to display your jewelry in their gift shops and at special events. It’d provide a major upgrade to the fun and service they provide for their customers. A person must choose his own path, to challenge himself in order to be successful,” he added quickly.

  Anna looked at him with her clear eyes and blinked. She’d never thought about it, and it seemed like a wonderful idea! Travelling to Eilat suddenly, just like that, for a couple of days, to enjoy the sea and some freedom, in the arms of a wonderful man. What’s not to like? She found a giant backpack and began throwing clothes and boxes in it.

  “What are you doing?” Saul asked in wonder.

  She gave a hearty laugh. “We’re going to Eilat, aren’t we? Come on, lazy, get packing!”

  He faked a p
uzzled look, searched around and said, “Oh, now where did I put my luggage?”

  She laughed and slapped her forehead. “Wait a moment.” Within a minute she returned with a big black backpack and put some towels and men’s clothes inside it.

  “Where did this come from?” Saul wondered.

  “It belonged to the idiot I dumped six months ago.” She brought him a pair of shoes and even a bag of men’s toiletries and shaving equipment. Anna very carefully packed small boxes containing a selection of necklaces, bracelets, and rings, extra sandals, and everything was ready. “Come, my love,” she said.

  “I’m with you... my love,” Saul imitated her tone and wording. He carried all the bags on his shoulders and they left the apartment.

  The Central Bus Station in Tel Aviv was teeming like a hive of bees on a rainy day. There were foreign workers - mainly African- soldiers, students, housewives with their shopping, and working men in sweaty shirts. It was a hot summer’s day, and deodorant had become an essential commodity missing from the inventory of most of the passengers.

  They threw their heavy backpacks into the bus’ baggage compartment and sat side by side on a bench near the rear of the bus, happy and excited. She rested her head, adorned with honey-braids, on his shoulder, and he looked out. From the corner of his eye, he could feel someone looking at him, but when he looked around the bus, he saw only people settling in and filling the seats. He didn’t see anybody suspicious and thought that this was a strange feeling. There was no reason he should be followed, for nobody saw the assault. Nonetheless, he was worried. He not only looked for something or someone familiar, but someone who might recognize him. Even if it meant trouble, at least he’d know where he was and who he was.

  Five hours later, after a break and 210 miles, they arrived in Eilat. It was already late in the afternoon, but once the doors of the bus opened, they were attacked by the insane heat.