And…wait a minute, that soldier…Adi…she was there too?
She was with a completely different group. But she was standing next to us and heard everything. Later, she came up to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and asked if I was okay. She handed me her bottle of water so I could take a drink. That was the first time anyone on this trip was nice to me, they’re all such children and I’ve almost finished my master’s in gender studies. We’re worlds apart. Understand?
Of course.
Then she asked to transfer to our group, and we spent the next two days together. Constantly together. I told her about my dad—and you need to understand, I don’t talk to anyone about my dad—and she told me what it’s really like to be in the army. It turned out that she served three months in the territories. And the things that happened there freaked her out. But she had no one to talk to about it until she met me.
It sounds like—
I’m such a jerk, you know? She had these huge eyes and a big body. Exactly my taste. And on the last day, when we said goodbye, she looked at me and I looked at her and I knew that she…and she knew that I…but neither of us had the courage…you know, to make the move. And we each went to our bus. And then, at the lecture, you suddenly said that you live…here, in the same suburb she does, so I thought, maybe it’s a sign…do you believe in signs?
—
The clerk at the city emergency center asked us for identifying marks. I remember her tone. Matter-of-fact. Tinged with impatience. The end-of-shift tone. I said, Small body, light brown. White paws. A white stripe on her forehead. A long white tail. Uncombed. Then I asked Noam if she wanted to add anything. Yes, she said, she’s really smart, our dog, whenever I’m sad, she feels it even if I don’t say anything, and she comes to sit near me.
Okay, the clerk said. I’ll get in touch with the city animal shelter and check if anyone picked up a dog that looks like her.
I remember the long minute that passed until she came back to us. I remember that my daughter bit her nails down to the flesh. And I remember forcing myself not to say anything about her biting her nails down to the flesh.
—
Tell me, didn’t we pass that ugly building already?
It’s possible. We’ve been driving for an hour already. And this is a small city.
“A city without a libido.”
What?
That’s what Adi said about your city.
Wow. And do you also happen to remember Adi’s last name?
No.
Or…other things she told you about herself?
Like what?
I don’t know. Things she likes to do, let’s say. Does she play tennis? Basketball? Buy secondhand clothes? Like hummus. Every bit of information can move us forward here.
She likes to read, I think.
Okay, that’s good! Explain.
I told her that we were going to meet an Israeli writer. You, I mean. So she told me that she had read all your books.
Great.
No offense, but she said that the first one was the best, and everything after that went downhill.
You don’t say.
Hey man, I have no idea, I didn’t read any of them. I’m more into Scandinavian writers. I’m crazy about their sick minds. You know Axel Wolff?
Unfortunately, yes.
Never mind. What I said before…does it point you in any direction?
Look, we can try to go to all the bookstores in the city, but that would take a lot of time. Aren’t you supposed to go back to your family? Isn’t your flight tomorrow?
So?
—
Then, too, when we were looking for Luna, I almost gave up. I remember saying to my daughter: It’s dark already, what are the chances we’ll find her now? But that daughter who, unlike her older sister and her younger brother, almost never asked for things for herself, wanted to try a little more. Just a tiny bit more. And she lowered her lashes as if she were about to cry. I took a deep breath and started to drive in the general direction of the house, but very slowly. The speed of a bicycle. And then—we saw her. I mean, first we heard her. A whimper. Familiar. Heartbreaking.
We found her behind the monument for the soldiers who fell in the Second Lebanon War. Licking herself. When she saw us, her whimpering turned into short barks of joy. She tried to run to us, but collapsed to the ground when she tried to stand up. Only then did we notice the large, bleeding wound that had opened slightly above her left leg.
—
Wait a minute!
What?
I just remembered something else Adi liked. Apart from reading books.
What?
Ice cream! She always said how much she feels like eating ice cream.
Okay…Ice cream’s a little general. Did she say what kind of ice cream?
Yes, she did, the soft kind. You know, like they sell at McDonald’s for a dollar?
American ice cream?
Yes, she really told me you call it that. I don’t get it. What’s American about soft-serve ice cream?
The truth is that—
Why are you driving slowly again?
So you can enjoy my city. When we drive quickly, you miss out on its unique charm.
Cut the crap. Why are you driving slowly?
Because I have an idea. And I’m turning it around in my mind. Slowly.
What? Tell me!
Don’t get too excited. It’s pretty much…a long shot.
Come on, tell me already!
There’s only one shopping center in the city that has both a bookshop and a McDonald’s.
—
We drove cautiously with Luna on the backseat. She kept licking herself and bleeding on the upholstery. My daughter sat beside her, stroked her head, and spoke to her like a mother comforting her child. We drove to an all-night veterinary clinic in our old neighborhood. Luna was happy when we lived there, in a not-so-new house that was neither symmetrical nor entirely legal, on the edge of the city, adjacent to the fields.
