Look for Me (28 page)

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Authors: Edeet Ravel

BOOK: Look for Me
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From the window of the dining hall I saw a man approach my building. He was carrying a large toolbox and walking very deliberately to the front door. I wondered who he was; it was way too early for Tanya to be prophesying. Maybe she or her mother had some sort of plumbing emergency. Then it hit me: this was probably the locksmith Rafi had promised to send my way, to protect me from evil. I hurried out of the hotel and into the building.

The locksmith was standing at the door to my apartment, knocking loudly. Then he kicked the door. “Open up!” he yelled.

“It’s me, I’m here,” I said.

“You Dana?”

“Yes.”

“Unlock.”

“It’s open,” I said.

He flung the door open and bellowed at me, “Out of my way!” Then he reconsidered. “Money up front or I’m going home.”

“Okay. Just tell me how much it is.”

“Two hundred.”

I gave him the money and he stuffed the bills in his back pocket. I was a little worried about him; I was afraid he was going to have a nervous breakdown in front of my eyes. I could imagine him picking up his hammer and smashing all the walls in the building.

He began taking apart the lock on my door. He was a short, stocky man with a wide face, narrow eyes, and a pursed mouth. His eyes weren’t naturally narrow; he was just very tense. He began cursing the door and various other opponents.

“Fuck his fucking mother,” he said.

“Who?” I asked.

He looked up at me and tried to decide whether to swear at me or to answer. Finally he said, “Fucking son of a whore who attacked me, I’ll rip his fucking heart out and throw it to the dogs. Look what he did—”

I saw that his arm was covered with blood and that in fact he was still bleeding. I wondered how I’d failed to notice: maybe it was because he was hairy, or maybe his anger eclipsed everything else about him.

“I’ll get something for that,” I said.

“Don’t bother.”

I went to the kitchen and ran a towel under warm water. I brought it to the locksmith and said, “Here, put this on it.”

“What are you, a fucking nurse?”

“You could get an infection. You should really come in and wash your arm.”

He took the towel and threw it on the floor. “Screw this,” he said.

“What happened?”

“Fucking maniacs. Her husband wasn’t supposed to be anywhere around, and what’s it my business anyhow, I just do the locks, I’m not her fucking lover, I don’t know this person from a whore on the street. But I’m the one who gets attacked.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

He guffawed. “Anyhow, I beat him up good. Gave him a run for his money, damned bastard.”

“I guess I’m out of my depth here.”

“That’s right, baby. Nice place you got here. Who
you
keeping out? I swear if I have any more crazy boyfriends today I’m not responsible for my actions.”

“I’m not keeping anyone out, and I don’t have a boyfriend. And I think everyone’s responsible for their actions.”

He looked up at me. I stepped back.

He returned to his work, letting out his rage on the lock. I made coffee while he worked and when it was ready I handed him a mug. He seemed very surprised.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome. You know, you’re very good-looking, but your face is so strained.”

“Yeah, well, life’s a bitch.”

“I guess you’re in a hard line of work.”

“Better than fixing people’s toilets. Better than being up to your arms in other people’s shit.”

“Is that what you used to do?”

“Still do. Why you changing your lock?”

“I gave my key to a lot of people. And the guy who called you thinks it isn’t safe, he wants me to have a new lock. That’s all.”

“He’s right. Everyone’s a fucking crook out there.”

“Do you want to come in and wash your arm?”

“Yeah, may as well.”

He had a strident way of walking and I was afraid he’d bump
into something or accidentally turn over a piece of furniture. He went into the bathroom and rinsed his arm. “Looks like the fucking Taj Mahal in here,” he said, as the water from the tap turned red. I gave him another towel. “What are you, Mother Teresa?”

“If I were injured, I’d expect you to do the same for me. And I’ll bet you would.”

“I’ll bet I wouldn’t.”

“I’ll bet you would.”

“I’ll bet I wouldn’t.”

“I’ll bet you would.”

“You’re pretty stubborn, in your own quiet way.”

“Yes, I am.”

He smiled. “You’re okay.”

“You look very nice when you smile.”

“What, are you coming on to me?”

“No, as I’m sure you can tell.”

“Yeah, you’re a bit of a cold fish, aren’t you?”

“Thanks.”

“Not really a cold fish, but, I don’t know, a mermaid maybe?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll just finish up with the door. It’s nearly done.”

“There’s a woman upstairs who tells fortunes. You should try her out.” I figured one of Tanya’s massages would do him good.

“Why?”

“She’s really good.”

“I don’t believe in that fucking shit.”

“She’s different.”

“What, you getting a cut?”

“I don’t care if you go or not. It was just a suggestion.”

“Well, maybe. How much does she charge?”

“Around fifty.”

“I’ll think about it.”

When he’d left I knocked on Volvo’s door. I was hoping Alex would be there.

Alex was Daniel’s oldest friend. In high school he had formed the little band that had played at my cousin’s wedding, and when Daniel finished his army service, they traveled together to Italy, Paris, Greece, and South America. Alex had a release from the army because he was albino; there was a military clause somewhere that exempted albinos, for no good reason—but Alex wasn’t complaining.

Alex still had white hair, of course, but it was very short now. He was a professional musician, and he’d worked with just about every singer and group in the country. He was also active in Gays Against the Occupation; he was the one who had come up with their slogan,
No Pride in the Occupation.
Alex was the only volunteer Volvo didn’t complain about, and the only one who could tease Volvo. He called him “pinup boy,” “irresistible,” “heartthrob,” “sex object.” Remarkably, Volvo was amused.

Alex answered the door. “Dana! I’m happy to see you. My handsome friend and I are having a heart-to-heart.”

Volvo was sitting in his chair, and I could tell that they really had been having a serious conversation.

“Hi, Volvo.”

“Hi, Dana,” Volvo said courteously, possibly for the first time since I’d known him.

“Alex, when you have a moment, can I see you? It’s about Daniel. You don’t mind, Volvo, do you?”

Volvo waved his hand regally to indicate his consent, and Alex followed me to my flat. We sat on the sofa and Alex took my hand and held it in his lap. His transparent blue eyes danced because of his astigmatism, but made him look as if he was concentrating hard on what you were saying and deliberating upon every word.

“Listen, Alex. I’ve found Daniel.”

“You found him! Where? Have you seen him?”

“No, not yet. In the end it was so easy. I could have found him years ago. I don’t want to think about that.”

“I was sure he was hiding in some cave in India. I never thought we’d find him. Well, where is he?”

“He’s in Qal’at al-Maraya.”

“Really!”

“Yes. He doesn’t know I’ve found him. And I haven’t told anyone. I have to see him first, before I let anyone know.”

“How did you find out, after all this time?”

“The army knew all along. Someone high up gave it to me.”

“That simple …Poor Dana, after all your efforts. Crazy. Qal’at al-Maraya. What was he thinking?”

“I’m going to ask Ella to help me get to him.”

“Good idea.”

“I should let you get back to Volvo.”

“He’s fine. Are you?”

“Of course! I’ve never been happier in my life—I don’t know how I’ll survive until I see him.”

“He’s not going to be exactly the same, honey.”

“I know. But he’s still Daniel.”

“Yes, but people change. You have to be prepared for that. People go through things, their lives change, they’re not the same people. Look at me. Twenty years ago I was wandering from party to party like some lost minstrel, stoned out of my mind most of the time. Now I’m a member of the bourgeoisie, and I spend my days worrying about my credit rating.”

“The basic things stay the same.”

“Well, it’s true I’ve always been gay! By the way, our friend Volvo has just decided he’s gay, too.”

“Oh yes, he mentioned something. Well …I guess it’s possible.”

“He wants me to take him to a gay bar.”

“That’s great news! Finally, a sign of life. Who knows, he might meet someone.”

“For sure he’ll meet someone. He’s quite good-looking. Dana, be careful. I’m not happy about you wandering around Qal’at al-Maraya.”

“I’ll go with Ella, everyone knows her.’

“That’s a good idea, angel. Though you know, our marvelous army shot at Ella’s car a few months ago. It was a miracle she wasn’t killed.”

“Yes, I remember.”

He shook his head. “Poor Daniel. Living in what is at the moment one of the planet’s hellholes.”

“Some parts of Qal’at al-Maraya are really beautiful—it’s not like he’s living in a refugee camp. But I guess it’s bad everywhere on the strip now.”

“Good luck, sweetie. Call me if you need anything.”

He let himself out, and I stayed on the sofa, motionless, all my emotions on hold.

I was still sitting on the sofa and staring into space when Rafi came over. He brought food: spices in glass jars, vegetables, an interesting assortment of grains. I watched him as he took the items out of plastic bags. We didn’t touch; we were both shy today.

“So, where is he?” Rafi asked. “And can I get a cup of coffee around here?”

“Yes, of course. He’s in Qal’at al-Maraya.”

“Qal’at al-Maraya! Well, that’s interesting.”

“Yes.”

“I wonder how he managed to keep that a secret. Everyone
knows everything in this country. Especially something like that.”

“I’m so angry at the army. They knew all along.”

“Maybe the people you spoke to didn’t know.” He lit a cigarette; he seemed very tense.

“I had no help at all. No one wanted to help me find him, not his family, not my friends, no one. Certainly no one in any of the offices I went to. I didn’t know who to turn to.”

“People think they know what’s best for us.”

“Why? Why would that be best for me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they thought he’d gone mad. Maybe they didn’t want you to go running after him and move there also.”

“Why would it be classified information, though? I just don’t understand.”

“Maybe it isn’t classified, just not easily available.”

“I’m thinking back to that woman, that woman who spent a lot of time trying to look Daniel up on her computer, just because she was on my side, you know. She probably wasn’t even supposed to be going in, but she was alone in the office, and she began checking all sorts of things. She found out that he was in Qal’at al-Maraya. And she just decided not to tell me. Or else she was afraid of getting into trouble. I remember now that when she was reading the screen a weird look came over her face. What right does she have to ruin my life? What right do they have to keep that sort of information from me?”

“What will you do now?”

“He has to see that I still love him. He must be so lonely there.”

“You don’t know, Dana. You don’t know what his life is like. Maybe he’s found a way to be happy. Maybe he’s made some close friends. I wonder how he managed to get in, though. How he got them to trust him, I can’t imagine it.”

“Yes, it was right in the middle of the uprising.”

“You’re right … eleven years ago … It seems impossible. They would never have trusted him, a former soldier, wounded, I wonder how he did it.”

“You’re very tense, Rafi.”

“That’s the first time you’ve used my name.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I can’t believe that. I’m sorry. Rafi. Rafi. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“Are you upset?”

“Let’s put on some music.” He went over to my CD collection and put on a record that had just come out, various artists singing Jacky’s greatest hits. The clear pure voice of one of my favorite female vocalists filled the room.
A carnival of fools, showgirls on the shore, shrapnel in the air, sand on the floor. Come dance with me, dance with me, for the sake of the dream, and we’ll both pretend that we can be seen.

“I have to tell my father,” I said. “I have to call him. What time is it in Belgium?”

“I think they’re around three or four hours back, I’m not sure.”

“I’m calling, I can’t wait.”

It took me a few minutes to find my father’s number; I almost never phoned him. He sounded groggy when he answered.

“Dad? It’s me.”

“What’s happened?” he asked, immediately worried.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s good news.”

“Ah, the kind I like. Hold on, hold on. Just a second, I can’t hear without my glasses. Ah, here …Yes.”

“I found Daniel’s address.”

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