Disappearance (3 page)

"Hi Hank," he addressed the bartender.
"Should be quite interesting today with these new people."

Hank was Dutch.  He had been a volunteer on the kibbutz for almost two years and it seemed he had been there forever. He spoke good Hebrew with a funny Dutch accent and was, by now, one of the guys.   Any inside information on the goings on in the Volunteer House came from him.

"I'll tell you Mikki, it's about time.  We haven't had fresh faces here in over six months!"

"They seem pretty young,
"  Mikki said,  casually  trying  to extract some information.

"Canadian and American High School graduates."

"How many?"

Hank leaned over the bar to make his point.
"Ten guys and six girls just waiting for you to make your move."

Mikki looked for the blonde with the brown eyes.  The place had filled up with the rest of the volunteers and the young kibbutz members. It was always the same scene. The air filled with cigarette smoke, the stereo blasting hard rock, the smell of alcohol, and people sprawled over the dance area, next to the bar, or on specially
made futons against the walls.  It took Mikki forever to loosen up.  He would sit on his stool and watch the drunken figures dance, needing several rounds of beer before he would feel comfortable enough to ask some girl to dance.  But this night felt special.  He wanted to get to know the blonde with the brown eyes and straight nose.

He saw her in the corner with some girlfriends, giggling with Shlomo and Ronni.  Then he saw Shlomo beginning to make his move, putting his arm around her, and was pleased when she gracefully moved away.  He knew Shlomo wasn't about to give up.  He was drunk and desperate and known for coming on too strong which was the primary reason he was mostly rejected.

Mikki decided to make his move.  Hank was watching closely. Mikki felt a little dizzy from the beer and he was nervous.  He always was when approaching a girl for the first time, fearing rejection.

He steadied himself and moved in her direction.  Shlomo and Ronni were hunched over her in the corner.  Mikki stood in front of the group and looked straight at her.

"Would you like to dance?"

Shlomo and Ronni turned simultaneously.   Mikki ignored them.  The girl was looking at him a little surprised.

"With who?" she inquired, staring back at him.

"With him!"
Mikki said, pointing at Shlomo.

"No," she said with a faint smile and before anyone could react clutched Mikki's outstretched hand and pulled herself up.

Mikki followed her to the dance floor.  The stereo was playing
Pinball Wizard
.   They began rocking to the beat measuring one another.   She moved gracefully, her eyes sparkling, her lips inviting.  He was in a daze.  The music slowed its pace.  It was now
See Me, Feel Me
...he moved closer to her knowing it was a touch too soon but too drunk to care.  She kept her distance.

"Will you marry me?" That broke the ice.

"When?" she giggled, playing along.

"I know a nice friendly rabbi who will marry us for a hundred shekels, no questions asked."

She was smiling now, moving closer.

"What's your name?" 
she whispered in his ear.

"Michael, Michael Dotan, but everyone calls me Mikki."

"Hi Mikki, I'm Karen, Karen Glass."

He could feel her warm breath on his neck.  He held her close, putting his hands around her waist.   She responded, putting her arms around his shoulders.  They were barely moving.  In what seemed like a million miles away, the song ended and the music was
playing fast pace hard rock again but Mikki did not want to let go. She smelled so good.  He buried his face in her neck and closed his eyes.

Her body tensed. He moved away.

She was rather tall, with long slender legs that were somewhat bent inward at the knees.   She was wearing a tight pair of Levis and a tee shirt with no sign of a bra underneath. Her skin was white and smooth, her curly blonde hair flowing, covering her shoulders.   He noticed she was barefoot.   It made her even more special.  In the summer he would spend most of his time barefoot.  He loved the feeling.  She was looking back at him intently.  He reached over and touched the small scar under her left eye.  She lowered her gaze and gently removed his hand.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked.

She smiled radiantly, her expression becoming playful.  "Where can we go at this time of night?"

"Oh, we could stroll around and experience the kibbutz at night.”

"What is there to experience at night?" she asked playfully.

"Not much, to tell you the truth, but all I really want is to talk."

She was measuring him.  He seemed sincere even though he was drunk.

"Can I trust you?" she asked.

"In what way?"

"Not to take advantage of the situation," she said seriously, keeping her eyes on him.

"What situation?"  He raised  his hands, playing dumb.

"A situation where a boy and a girl may end up doing things they will later regret," she said, still serious.  Mikki looked at her carefully, instantly realizing the girl was no one-night stand and if he made a wrong move, he would lose her.

"You want the truth, Karen?"

She didn't answer but kept looking into his eyes.

"Truth is," he continued after a few seconds, "I'd love to take advantage of the situation; I usually do but…" she kept staring as he went on, "in this particular situation, I'll probably not get very far and I'll certainly lose the one girl I have been waiting for all my life."

She seemed to relax then she smiled and moved a step closer to whisper in his ear.   "I love to talk, let's get out of this dump."

Mikki felt elated. He would have this gorgeous, beautiful woman, all to himself.  He would walk out of the club with her and all eyes will be looking at him with envy.  Shlomo, Ronni, and the rest of them would remain, wondering how he managed to pull it off.  He would take her for a walk. They would end up somewhere romantic.  One never knew how such events ended up.

They were about to leave when a voice stopped them.  It was Shlomo, noticeably drunk.   

"You owe me, Mikki!" he shouted in Hebrew, roaring over the loudspeakers.  It was a touchy moment. Mikki kept his cool, replying in Hebrew.

"For this Shlomo, I'll owe you the rest of my life."

Ronni went into one of his laughing fits. Hank gave a thumbs-up sign and the stereo blasted “Go Your Own Way”.

Mikki and Karen left the nightclub.

Kibbutz Geffen was located in the Hula valley in the northernmost part of Israel, approximately halfway between the Sea of Galilee and the Lebanese border. To the east flowed the River Jordan below the Golan Heights with Syria just beyond and to the west were the Naftali mountain range. Known for its magnificent scenery and rich soil, the valley was considerably populated and exploited to grow everything from cotton to apples. “In 1973, during the Yom Kippur War,” Mikki was saying, “Syrian forces managed to push the IDF off the Golan Heights, almost across the Jordan River.” Mikki didn't know it at the time, but Syrian tanks were a mere four kilometers   from   his   kibbutz   when   the   IDF   made   a remarkable effort in keeping the Syrians from invading the valley  and  eventually  pushed  them  back  off  the  Golan Heights.

They were walking along the kibbutz's security fence.  Built on top of a hill, the location offered a magnificent view of the valley which shimmered at night with lights from the many settlements nestled in and around it.

Karen talked about herself.

She grew up in Westlake Village, California, a suburb, thirty miles north of downtown Los Angeles, graduating from Westlake high school a week before arriving in Israel. The trip was her graduation present from her wealthy parents.  Her father, Paul, was head of a fast growing high tech company. Karen knew little of her father's business but what little she did   manage   to   convey   of   research   and   development, computers and lasers seemed very posh and complicated.  Her mother, Martha, kept herself busy with local fund raisers and ladies’ cosmetics sales.    Karen's older sister, Lisa, was graduating from the University of California at Los Angeles with a Bachelor's degree in Economics and had already been accepted to a Master's degree program at Pepperdine University in Malibu.  Karen  had  planned to spend  two months in Israel and a month touring Europe, before going back to attend the University of California at Santa Barbara. She, too, was set on getting a business degree but had
not yet decided whether it would be Accounting, Marketing, or Management Information Systems.  She wasn't worried.  It would be a year before she needed to make up her mind.

Mikki was intrigued and a little envious as he compared the circumstances they each faced.  There he was, getting ready to serve his country for three years, with no idea how he would come out of it and certainly no clue as to what he wanted to do afterward.  She, on the other hand, just barely out of high school and already confident about continuing her education, joining the fast-paced business world, and presumably getting full guidance and support from her wealthy and capable parents.

Karen leaned with her back to the fence, facing Mikki.  It was a splendid night, the stars brightly forming a magnificent array of shapes across the dark sky.  Her eyes sparkled, blending in with the stars and the lights in the background.  A light breeze caressed her hair and she closed her eyes, taking in the nightly sounds and smells, enjoying the moment.

They came from two entirely different worlds, he reflected. He had spent all his life in the kibbutz which was essentially a mini-universe that usurped the wealth of its inhabitants and in return ventured to equally take care of all their needs.  His parents never had such concerns as paying bills, being insured, buying clothes, or even cooking food.   Education was something they had to acquire but it was not viewed as a vital tool needed to prosper.   Individual contributions varied, yet everyone was treated equally and took an active part in the decision-making process.   A heaven for growing up, the kibbutz was a comfortable and very protective environment that, among its vital shortcomings, rarely exposed its youth to the outside world.

"How long have you lived with this fence around you?"  she asked.

"Ever since the infiltrators figured out how vulnerable these settlements were."

"I thought your borders were heavily guarded?"

"They are," Mikki replied, "but there is no way we can guard every inch. They find creative ways of infiltrating."

"Can this fence prevent them from entering the kibbutz?"

Good point, he thought. If they were able to penetrate border fences augmented with land mines and patrols, surely this fence was no obstacle.

"This fence is just another hurdle in their way," he explained. "It cannot prevent them from entering, but routine patrols can spot a break-in and alert the community faster than if there was no fence at all."

The explanation seemed to satisfy her.  She turned around and looked at the quiet valley below.  Mikki felt a strong urge to sneak close behind her, put his arms around her, and kiss the back of her neck; but he didn't dare.  He had to keep his promise. Instead, he stood beside her and surveyed the valley.

"Will you stay here forever, Mikki?"

"That depends…"

"On what?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.

"On where you're gonna be…" he replied looking straight ahead, trying to keep a straight face.

"You don't know me," she said, suddenly serious.

Mikki turned and looked at her, surprised by the seriousness in her voice.  His stomach tightened.  He wanted romance.  He wanted fun.

"You're right Karen, I don't know anything about you other than what you've told me tonight and that you smell great, but to me, this is reason enough to want to be with you for the rest of my life; shall we go see the rabbi?"

Karen smiled and faced the valley again. "How old are you, Mikki?"

"I was eighteen in February. How about you?"

"I'll be eighteen next month."

"How come you finish school so early in the year?" 

"No particular reason.   It's the way the system works there. When will you finish School?"

"End of May."

"Then what?"

"Three years defending the Holy Land," he declared contemptuously.

She was quiet again.  Mikki watched her from the corner of his eye.   There was a sadness about her that made her seem mature for her age.

"Isn't it strange," she said speaking softly, looking up at the stars, "here we are in the prime of our lives, ready to conquer the world, yet without a clue as to where we are going or what will become of us."

"I thought you had it all planned out," he remarked.

"It looks that way, doesn't it, Mikki?"

He waited for her to continue.

"Truth is, it only looks that way," she said, quickly turning to face him, her voice wavering.  "Nothing is ever what it seems, Mikki. Nothing is ever what it looks like on the surface."