All Backs Were Turned (7 page)

N
EARING THE AIRPORT, HE COULD SEE THE
D
AKOTA
coming over the mountain range; he waited in the jeep by the airport gate on which somebody had placed a broken sign with the crookedly lettered message NO TRESPASSING; he watched the plane describe an arc over the bay, where the flat roofs of Aqaba glimmered faintly in the white sun; then the plane landed heavily, raising clouds of reddish dust. He watched the passengers descend and begin walking toward the gate, grimacing and narrowing their eyes against the sun: two young men carrying scuba gear, and an old woman accompanied by an old man, probably her husband, whom she clutched by the arm, yelling something into his ear. Then one more woman left the plane and stopped helplessly on the runway, dazed by the glare and the heat; a moment later the stewardess swung the door shut.

The old woman and her husband approached Israel.

“Will you take us to a hotel?”

“That's why I'm here,” he said. “To take people where they want to go. Have you got a room reservation? If not, I can take you to the Eilat Hotel.”

The old woman glanced at her husband, tall and thin and ramrod straight; the earpiece of a hearing aid was stuck in his ear, while the microphone dangled from his hand; he was playing with it as if it were the pendant on the waist chain of an old-fashioned watch.

“I didn't say I wanted to squander my money,” she said. “They told me at the tourist office how much that hotel costs. We can stay at a cheaper one. We want to wash after the trip and then go see the sights. We're leaving on the afternoon plane.”

“Okay,” Israel said.

“How much do you charge?”

“It depends on how long you want the jeep for.”

“For three hours,” she said. “We'd like to see King Solomon's mines and whatever else of interest there is here.”

“What about a drive around the desert?”

“No,” she said. “We saw it from the plane. You don't expect anyone to pay for looking at sand, do you?”

“Then it'll be twenty pounds,” Israel said.

“That's too much.”

“Give him the money,” the old man wheezed.

Israel watched the woman as she raised her hand to her husband's ear and pulled his earpiece out.

“He was never any good at doing business,” she said. “His brothers cheated him all his life, and now he's come here to squander away all I managed to save.”

“I can't hear anything,” the old man screeched. He groped for his earpiece, but the woman pushed his hand away.

“Twenty pounds,” Israel said.

“That's robbery,” she said. “They told me at the tourist office that it costs twenty pounds to rent a jeep for the whole day; we want it for only three hours!”

“This is the only plane,” Israel said. “And none of the locals want to go sightseeing. Most of them would pay through the nose just to leave Eilat.”

“I want to see King Solomon's mines,” the old man screeched again. “Give him the twenty pounds.”

“No,” the woman said. She stuck the earpiece back in her husband's ear and leaned against the jeep's hood, intending to go on haggling about the price. Suddenly she jumped away, her face twisted with shock and pain.

“It's a hundred and forty degrees now,” Israel said. “Didn't they tell you that at the tourist office?”

“I'll take the jeep,” a woman behind him suddenly said. He didn't see her; he only heard her voice reaching him through walls of heat, and he thought with reluctance that he would have to turn around and face her.

“Twenty pounds,” he said, without turning around.

“I know,” she said. “I heard you say it three times. The first two times I didn't say anything, but now I'm joining in. Like at an auction.”

“What auction?” the old man screeched.

Israel turned around. The woman was standing a few steps away, smoking a cigarette.

“Oh, it's you,” he said. “I saw you leave the plane. You want me to take you to a hotel?”

She walked over and he helped her get into the jeep.

“I heard one could rent a room privately,” she said. “That there are people here who take in lodgers. Would you know of anyone?”

“I can find out,” he said. “Then what?”

“I'd like to see all there's to be seen in Eilat,” she said. “That's why I came here. But I don't have much time.”

“How long do you plan to stay?”

“Three days,” she said. “Then I have to go back.” She looked at the old couple walking slowly in the sun. “Can we give them a lift? That woman looks as if she's going to drop any moment.”

“My mother died in this country,” he said, throwing the car into gear. “It says on her tombstone: Here lies Sarah, Mordechai's daughter, a God-fearing old woman who has gone the way of all flesh.” He turned to the woman. “It would be best for this old hag if she also died. Right here, in this country, which she probably detests. There'd be less sorrow in the world then.”

“And what about me?” she asked.

“Well, what about you?”

“I'm over thirty,” she said. “Can I live a few more years?”

“I don't know,” he said. “It depends on you.”

“Well, can you find out?”

“Sure,” he said. “I'll tell you before you leave.”

“You have three days to gather the information,” she said. “And now stop the jeep. I want you to give this old couple a lift. I'll pay you for it.”

He accelerated and drove past the old couple, covering them with sand. He continued to step on the gas until the arrow of the speedometer moved lazily from forty to fifty, and then he braked hard and jumped out of the jeep. They were midway between the airport and the main highway and nobody could see them. He circled the hood and stopped by the woman's side.

“Listen,” he said, “I won't give that old hag a lift. Not even for forty pounds. That's why I asked her for twenty pounds; I didn't want her to ride in this jeep. Anybody else I would have charged ten. And that's how much I'll charge you for three hours.”

“What have you got against her? She hasn't done you any harm.”

“She reminds me of someone I want to forget,” he said.

“You should stop having affairs with girls well past their menopause. You'll save yourself lots of trouble.”

“She reminds me of my mother.”

“I'm sorry,” she said and held out her hand, but he ignored it. He stood still and the red dust settled slowly over his sweaty face. After a while he took a moist cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it.

“Can we drive on?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “First we'll find that room for me, okay?”

“Sure,” he said. “Everything is fine now.” He got back behind the wheel and started off. In the rear-view mirror he could see the old couple shuffling slowly along in the direction of the highway; he knew that she also was watching them in the mirror. But he didn't stop; he drove on quickly, raising clouds of red dust that soon obscured the old couple, outlandish and out of place in their black clothes, so much in discord with the mountains, the white sun, and the tranquil bay. He reached the main highway and turned right toward the town. He spat out the cigarette butt and looked at his passenger. For a moment he gazed in silence at her slim, weary face.

“I, too, will die here,” he said finally, lighting a new cigarette. “No doubt about it. It's much too hot here for someone born in Europe. Just imagine, it'll be like this, with no rain, for the next five months—” He glanced at her again. “I'll stop by the place where I'm staying and ask about a room for you. They might know of something.”

“Okay,” she said. “It doesn't have to be anything special. Just a clean room for three days.”

He stopped the jeep in front of Little Dov's house and walked inside. Esther was asleep; Dov was sitting by the window reading a newspaper.

“Hey, Dov,” Israel whispered. “Come out to the kitchen.”

Dov left the room, closing the door behind him. “There's this woman who's looking for a place to stay,” Israel said. “Can you help? I've just picked her up at the airport. Maybe you know of someone who'd want to rent a room for three days?”

“We can try the neighbors,” Dov said. “If she doesn't expect us to pay her rent, that is. I hope you've made it clear that you won't be driving her around Eilat just for the fun of it.”

“I told her it'd be my pleasure to take her wherever she wants to go as long as she pays for it,” Israel said.

They crossed the yard and knocked on the door of a house that looked exactly the same as Little Dov's. A fat woman opened the door.

“Do you want to rent a room?” Dov asked. “There's a woman, a tourist, who's looking for a room for three days.”

“Three days? Is it worth it?” the fat woman asked.

“I don't know,” Israel said. “Say yes or no.”

“My, my, aren't we impatient? Is she alone?”

“Yes.”

“How much does she want to pay?”

“Ten pounds a day,” Israel said. “That's the going rate for rooms around here.”

“She'll bring in men,” the fat woman said grudgingly.

“You haven't even seen her, so how can you know?” Dov said. “And even if she does, what do you care? The important thing is she won't bring in women. At least men don't get pregnant. Well?”

“Okay, but she has to pay me in advance,” the fat woman said.

“I think she'll agree to that,” Israel said. “I'll go and ask her. And if she wants to see the room, I'll bring her over.”

“One moment,” the fat woman said, looking at them as if she suddenly woke up from a dream. “Who are you, the two of you?”

“I'm Dov Ben Dov,” Dov said. “And this is my friend Israel. Satisfied?”

“You're Dov Ben Dov?” she asked. “I already know two men by that name.”

“I'm the third one,” Dov said. “The worst one. The one you heard all the stories about. We'll be back in a minute.”

They went to the jeep.

“This is my friend, Dov Ben Dov,” Israel said. “He helped me find you a room.”

“Ben Dov,” the woman said. “In Hebrew this means the son of—I've forgotten. God, I knew that word, but now it's slipped my mind.”

“Bear, son of Bear,” Dov said. “A very nice name, considering that no one has ever seen a bear in this country.”

“Yes,” she said, holding out her hand. “And my name is Ursula. People address each other by their first names here, no?”

“It's more convenient that way,” Dov said. “I know a guy who's named Moses Treppengelander. And another one who's named Samuel Paradiserweg. Who'd want to say all that?”

“You were born here,” she said, fixing her eyes on him.

“Yes, in Haifa,” he said. “How did you know I was born in Israel?”

“I just knew it,” she said, staring at his heavy shoulders. “And you do look like a bear.”

He took a step in her direction. His face remained expressionless, only the spot where his eyebrows joined seemed to thicken suddenly.

“Has anybody ever told you what you look like? What kind of woman?” he asked. Then he turned and walked away.

“It's best to leave him alone,” Israel said. “He can be very unpleasant.”

“Did I offend him in some way?” she asked.

“No,” Israel said. “Nobody needs to offend him. That's the trouble. It's enough that he imagines the whole world is trying to offend him. There are people like that, you know.” He took her suitcase from the back seat. “Let's go and see that room. It'll cost you half of what a hotel room would.”

She didn't move. She was still watching the door behind which Dov had disappeared.

“That man has insulted me,” she said quietly. “Even though I did him no wrong. I've barely been in this town fifteen minutes.”

“One often pays for the wrongs done by others,” Israel said. “Every Jew ought to know that. Hasn't your mother ever told you that?”

“I'm sorry, but I'm not Jewish,” she said. “My husband was a Jew. That's why I came here, to see the things he told me so much about. I didn't come here to be insulted.”

“Dov won't change,” Israel said. “I can apologize for him if you want me to.”

“My husband told me that when you welcome somebody in Hebrew, you say, Blessed be the one who cometh hither. Doesn't anybody say these words anymore?”

“Of course they do,” Israel said. “Plenty of people say them. And feel that way about strangers. Actually, I don't know anybody who doesn't. And of all the people I know, Dov is usually the one most likely to.”

He moved off, carrying her suitcase; after a moment, Ursula got out of the jeep and followed. They crossed the yard and approached the fat woman's house; the fat woman herself was still standing in the doorway.

“Let's see that room,” Israel said. He walked in, shouldering her aside.

The room she showed them was bright and clean.

“You won't find a room like this for fifteen pounds anywhere else,” she said. “I'm renting it only because my husband—”

“For fifteen pounds we don't want it,” Israel said. “You settled for ten.”

“Ten? I think you have trouble understanding Hebrew. How long have you been in this country?”

“You said ten,” Israel said.

“There must be some mistake. Ask your friend. If Dov Ben Dov says I settled for ten, I'll agree. My loss. I don't need to make a profit. Others die of hunger, so I can suffer a loss. It won't kill me. But ask Dov Ben Dov. I want to hear it from his mouth.”

“Dov has said too many things for which he later had to appear in court,” Israel said. “It's best to leave him alone.”

“You want to ruin me!”

“No, I don't,” Israel said, picking up the suitcase he had already placed on the bed. “We'll find a different room.”