“Yup. Like you do to cattle. You know how they shock them? It’s awful.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you’re an ass, and asses are practically cattle.”
“Is everything a joke to you?”
“And to you?”
“You see? Except about the bottom line—it’s impossible to talk with you.”
“You can’t talk with me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Give me an example.”
“I don’t have one. Only annoying people ask for examples. Can’t you see the big picture without me giving an example? You know what—you want an example, I’ll give you one. There are thousands of examples with you.”
“Give one, then.”
“An example for what?”
“An example for what you just said. That it’s impossible to talk to me.”
“That’s the example.”
“What’s the example?”
“That! That! The fact that you make such a big deal out of everything!”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me,” I said. “I’ll tell you, all right.”
“I give up.”
“What are you giving up on?”
“What not… our country, you, me… everything.”
“You? You’re giving up on our country?”
“How typical of you to pick on that first.”
“That’s the most important one, isn’t it?”
“Well then. Another patriot is born.” He paused. “Of course, that’s more important,” he added in a far too serious tone. “Or, how would I ever agree to put up with you?”
“I suppose you’d suffer even more.”
“To be honest, I don’t suffer too badly.”
“Oh, I thought you did,” I said with a smile I reserved only for special occasions. “What’s so bad about Israel?”
“Israel’s great. It’s the best.”
“So, what’s the problem? I don’t understand.”
“Israel is changing. Can’t you see? And not for the better—at least in many aspects.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that many things fly that never would during our parents’ time. And that’s without even starting on our parents’ parents. If they could see what was going on here after some of the things they suffered through… and I mean from those who actually got to tell the stories after the fact… some never could have shared their stories, you know. Six million is thirty million today… I know how much—”
“You can’t think like that. If it wasn’t for that…”
“You sound like my son. You know what, let’s not even talk about the past—I can’t even get the right words out of my mouth for that—but what about today? All this mess going on. Wherever you look—there’s more mess. It’s a country—sort of. Everything is sort of. It sort of works, somehow, but still, everything is sort of.
“We’re not only sort of, Eran, you know. Our past is full of—”
“Right, Noa… but how many people like us are there? There’s an army, and let’s say that that’s mostly okay. It at least gets a passing grade. And I’m talking about standards and qualification. Even regarding that—we still need to align everything to what was ethical and moral then, in our parents’ era. That still isn’t happening today, and the General Security Agency and the Mossad… and maybe another half a division… and that’s it.”
“We’re a different country today, Eran. People from all different places have come since our parents made their way to Israel. Russians, Ethiopians… have you forgotten?”
“Not at all. The Russian immigration probably saved the country. You know, a while ago I was on a bus in Tel Aviv on Weizmann St. I still remember it well. It was right next to Ichilov. Two people started fighting on the bus—a Russian woman and this other guy. You should have heard the way they spoke… you nigger, you monkey… god, Noa, was it for that that you went through what you did? To keep someone who calls their neighbor a monkey safe? Or to keep the black guy calling his neighbor a monkey protected? Doesn’t that frustrate you?”
“I don’t encounter fights on buses because I don’t take the bus. But I definitely understand where you’re coming from. But, I also need to work. I don’t have a degree in philosophy, sorry.”
“Ah, of course. I almost forgot your financial agenda. That’s an issue all on its own.”
“What’s an issue?”
“Money in our country. But let’s not get into it now. Let’s focus on what we came here to do, okay? Why are you looking at me like that? What?”
“Is there something you’re planning to do?”
“What about?”
“About doing.”
I love how he swallows so roughly when I say something like that. All of the temperamental talks die down in an instant.
We got into a cab.
“Hi, mate. We need to get to Park Hyatt, please.”
I hoped the driver wouldn’t start a conversation like the other one did. He may speak English, and I do too, but following the conversation properly with that accent was impossible.
“I fixed you up with the best view.” Eran winked at me. “In front of the Blue Bay and the Opera House.”
“Business and pleasure,” I said, flipping through the magazine in the back seat of the car.
“Pretty much,” Eran replied and started fiddling with a hard drive he’d pulled out of his pocket.
“What you got there?”
“What do you care?” He paused. “Pictures.”
“Pictures? Of what?”
“Of your sister. What do you care, you pain in the ass? It doesn’t concern you. Not everything is about you…. Pictures of your sister from Eilat, okay? I was there with her.”
“I don’t have a sister, Eran. Could you have been with someone else?”
“Go and prove you don’t have a sister.” He winked at me again, the bastard. “You don’t have to go and prove it you can come straight to me.” He gave me that smile of his, his blue eyes twinkling at me…. And, well, I’m not made of stone, you know.
“Should I come with my sister or without?”
“Bring your whole family, for all I care. Just bring yourself.”
“I’m here.”
“You are. That’s a lovely thing.”
“And you’re here. That’s rather lovely, too.”
“You’re lovelier than I am,” he said.
“I can’t argue with that,” I retorted, highly satisfied. “I’m satisfied,” I said.
“What?” Such an attention span, he has…. “What did you say?”
“Can’t you hook up your earphones and listen at the same time? You actually have to listen
