The driver didn’t stop talking for even a second, chattering tired clichés about the poor state of affairs in Israel. Ofer preferred to keep silent and do some thinking. The scent of cigarettes that clung to the seats scratched the inside of his nose and he sneezed. He was hoping that if he had to infect someone, the blabbering driver would be the first.
When Ofer went into the courtroom of Judge Sarah Jancovic in the District Court at Weizmann Street in Tel Aviv, Gideon Geller was already sitting on the bench on the right side of the hall. He was dressed in a white shirt and a black tie with embroidered snails, and wore the required black robe. Not a single one of his carefully groomed graying hairs was misplaced on his head.
Unlike Ofer, he looked fresh and clean shaven. At first, all Ofer wanted was to hug him. To feel he was in a friendly and protective environment again, to receive some warmth and comfort.
Ofer hurried to take a seat on one of the rear benches because at that moment the bailiff announced the beginning of the hearing. Yitzhak Brick, dressed in an elegant white suit, sat behind his attorney, Geller, and exchanged whispers with him. He appeared tranquil and calm. His firm chin completely defied the appearance of his rounded cheeks, which looked just like a child’s, begging to be pinched.
Judge Jancovic, dwarfish, grim faced and firm looking, stepped into the courtroom and everyone rose to their feet. She sat down and leaned onto the podium, her head between her elbows, her eyes and ears inclined.
The petitioner’s lawyer stood in front of the attentive judge.
Ofer’s heart missed a beat. His eyes wandered slowly over the short dark hair, the elongated neck, the supple and decisive body movements. His eyes continued downward towards the long legs at the margins of the dark skirt. He couldn’t entirely see them because the bench hid them, but he didn’t have a shadow of a doubt. Even though ten years had passed, his memory did not betray him.
Gali Shviro, the Environmental Action Association’s lawyer, stood and spoke in front of the judge without a hint of nerves, and Ofer could only turn green with envy and painful memories of longing and unrequited love.
Their relationship was severed right after his father’s death. She must have found some other people to excite her. Perhaps I was just a passing youthful whim for her. Ofer wasn’t able to ignore the painful thoughts. Who could figure out the way in which a young woman’s heart worked?
They had met again only once since then. Coincidentally. Ofer had recognized her in an instant. Walking like a lost fawn, long neck stretched up proudly. Short black hair and a mouth that looked like a cherry at the height of spring.
He ran after her in the middle of the central bus station and called out her name. She turned around but didn’t recognize him at first or just pretended she didn’t recognize him out of embarrassment.
“Gali, it’s me, Ofer. Ofer Angel…”
“Of course I remember you.” A little smile lifted the corners of her mouth and illuminated her face.
“It’s been such a long time since I last saw you. How’s life in the north? How are you doing?”
“Mostly good,” she said, “and that’s what counts. Karmiel is not Tel Aviv, as you probably know.”
“Do you have time to grab a cup of coffee?” asked Ofer.
“No. Sorry. I’m in a real hurry. Maybe some other time. I’d love that.”
He had just returned home from a military drill and his sweaty uniform apparently didn’t leave much of an impression on her. The polite conversation became strained and superfluous. Out of embarrassment, they didn’t even exchange phone numbers when they parted.
“I couldn’t even muster the courage or be smart enough to ask for her phone number. But if she had been interested, she would have given me a hint. And if she’s not interested, let her enjoy life without me. I’m not going to humiliate myself. Where else could she find a guy like me?” said Ofer to himself.
“Keep in touch, Ofer,” she’d said, just to be polite, and he’d remained thunderstruck on the steaming sidewalk of the central bus station, angry at her cold reaction. He stared with longing eyes at her back, which moved away from him. They hadn’t seen each other since that day.
He’d sworn to himself that he’d never woo her again. But now, seeing her once more, he felt a pinch in his heart.
Judge Jancovic’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Please explain to me, young lady,” the judge asked the lawyer who stood proudly in front of her, “suppose you’re right. Suppose I accept your claim that Viromedical’s activities should be examined and that there is a danger to the quality of the environment and the well-being of the residents in the area. Who will guarantee that the Environmental Action Association that you’re representing will be able to pay the damages that will be caused by postponing the tender if you will lose the trial? You know that issuing a temporary restraining order for this kind of case requires proper financial guarantees.”
Shviro didn’t lose her nerve and answered without hesitation, “Your honor, the association will provide any reasonable financial guarantee that you ask. We received financial backup and funding. We will be able to immediately deposit three hundred thousand shekels in the court’s treasury. ”
A murmur passed through the courtroom. The judge slammed the podium with her hand to silence the mumbling.
Ofer hurried to look with wonder at Yitzhak Brick’s profile. Not a single muscle budged in his face, but the redness in his cheeks almost completely disappeared. He had invested a lot of effort and money in the tender. Ofer knew him well from the various meetings he had attended at the office and saw him as a calculated, brilliant man who does not easily abandon the goals he has set for himself. He was in court to witness with his own eyes how the objection to the tender he was about to win would be dismissed.
The offer that the eloquent lawyer threw into the air turned things upside down and made a deep impression on Judge Jancovic. Geller attempted to dissuade her but was unsuccessful. After about half an hour of arguments and counterarguments, Judge Jancovic read her decision.
“In light of the evidence presented to the court and in light of the guarantees the claimant committed to deposit in the court’s treasury, I have decided that a temporary court order should be issued as requested…” The judge finished reading her decision and hurried to exit the courtroom.
The crowd began to slowly walk outside.
Ofer hurried to get close to Gali. She was surrounded by enthusiastic friends and supporters of the Environmental Action Association, who could not hide their joy about the surprising decision.
One couldn’t possibly fail to identify her. The copper color of her skin and her large gleaming eyes were one of a kind. He wanted to say something to her, but the words got stuck in his mouth.
This time she recognized him. “What are you doing here, Ofer?” she asked, ignoring the excitement of the people that surrounded her.
“I’m an intern at Geller, Schneider and Associates,” said Ofer. He realized too late that he didn’t really look his best. His hair was uncombed, and he hadn’t had time to have a bath yet. The signs of the sleepless night he underwent could be clearly seen on his face and his wrinkled clothing.
“You don’t say…So what, you’ve crossed the line? You no longer uphold the same values you used to believe in?” Gali challenged.
“You may have won the battle, but there’s a long war waiting for you,” said Ofer, trying to maintain the dignity of his office and the client it represented. The large crowd that surrounded them did not allow the conversation to continue. Gali was swallowed in a cheerful company of association members
Gideon Geller came over and rested his hand on Ofer’s shoulder. “I already received an update about everything that happened last night, Ofer. I took care of everything. I signed the bail paperwork and the terms of release. I agreed that you’ll report for further investigation the moment you’re summoned. Come, I’ll take you to the office,” he said with a smile and g
ave the intern another pat on the shoulder.
They walked out of the courtroom, into the parking lot, and climbed inside Geller’s black Audi.
“Ofer, now that we’re alone, please tell me what happened,” asked Geller as he sat in front of the wheel. The vehicle drove softly along Ibn Gabirol Street. All the traffic lights were green, as if inspired by Geller’s vehicle.
Ofer spoke quickly, tripping over the words. He told Geller about the appointment he had scheduled with Rodety to take him to the office, the wait at the hotel, persuading the chambermaid, finding the body, being interrogated by Alush, giving the wrong answer, hanging out with Rodety at the strip club. He didn’t say which club. Geller didn’t ask. Only listened without even a single blink.
Geller’s cell phone rang, interrupted the recitation.
Geller answered the call. Efrat, his secretary, was on the line. Unlike her usual happy nature, there was not a shred of cheerfulness in her voice.
“Geller,” said Efrat, “they just called from the Tel Hashomer Hospital.”
Geller remained calm. “What did they want?”
“Can I talk? Are you by yourself?”
“Yes, you can talk,” answered Geller.
“They say that Ofer Angel escaped from the quarantine ward. They say he’s dangerous to the public. There’s a chance he got infected by the deadly mutated virus that killed Rodety…”
The attorney remained silent. His silence lasted exactly five seconds.
Geller stopped the Audi with a screech at the nearest bus bay and said, “Ofer, get the hell out of my car and go back to the hospital. Don’t you dare show your face in the office or anywhere else until you receive medical approval and my personal approval to do so. Got it?”
“Geller, I’m begging you. Just listen for a second. The virus that killed Rodety was in his drink. He let me drink from his own personal flask.”
Geller’s eyes widened. “Ofer, how do you know what killed him?”
“They told me at the hospital. If I’m infected with what killed him, there’s no cure. I need help. I’ll know for sure in a week. That’s the time it will take the virus to incubate because I was only exposed to a small amount. But I feel completely clean. I don’t feel any problems, and in a short while the hospital will approve it too…” Ofer tried to argue.
Geller’s gaze didn’t leave him with any options. “Ofer, do as I say. I’ll do everything to see how you can be helped.” Ofer didn’t doubt Geller’s earnestness. If there was one person he could turn to for help in times of trouble, it would be this man, his boss.
He barely managed to get out of the car before Geller sped away.
Ofer found himself at one end of Ibn Gabirol Street. He began to walk aimlessly. His feet took him all the way to the end of Rothschild Boulevard, and he continued to walk down the wide street. He turned right on Allenby Street and continued to the Nahalat Binyamin pedestrian mall.
A few minutes later, he felt severe stomach cramps. He found a bench to rest on, but he was struck with nausea and hurried to the yard of a nearby apartment building and threw up everything in his stomach. His head hurt and his stomach didn’t stop spasming even for a second. He vomited for almost five minutes until only yellow gastric juices came out of his mouth.
He returned to the bench. A few minutes later he felt a little better and began to walk pensively. His lungs filled with warm air, drenched with the exhaust fumes of the buses that smelled better to him than the scents of urine and mold of the Abu Kabir prison cell.
Tender thoughts filled his mind. He felt his headache worsening. Perhaps he really had caught the deadly virus?
His mouth was dry from throwing up and from his growing sense of dread. He made some quick calculations. It all happened on Saturday night. How much time did he have left? Seven days would end in the coming weekend.
The last day of the waiting period would be Friday. Damn and bloody Friday. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was also the thirteenth but didn’t have the energy to check the actual date.
A black poodle playfully ran around next to the turn leading into Shenkin Street. A baby screamed on his father’s shoulders. Birds chirped among the trees. Life is so beautiful, he thought.
The questions tumbled in his head—How could he give up this red, juicy apple he hadn’t even had time to sink his teeth into yet? Is that what the last moments of life looked like? Did his father feel the same way before he died?
He remembered the pain he felt during the days of his father’s shiva, when family, friends and colleagues had come to the family home to share their grief. Even with all the time that had passed, he remembered every little detail, as if it all had happened only yesterday.
Chapter 10
The events of those long gone days replayed themselves in Ofer’s mind in slow motion.
The days of the shiva in the Angel family home went by very quickly. A multitude of people, some he was not familiar with, others he didn’t find interesting, filled the small apartment. The heavy flow of visitors, which did not stop from the early morning hours till the late hours of the evening, did allow them time to digest the sudden death of the family patriarch.
A photo of Mordechai Angel was sitting on a small table next to the porch entry and ancient yellowing albums containing photos from better and happier days were stacked next to a memorial candle that burned day and night. Mordechai Angel had been photographed against the background of a snowy mountain, his gaze focused on distant and unidentified landscapes.
Ofer thought the photo did him justice; his father appeared as he always looked, distant and immersed in his own world.
During the evening hours of the third day, his classmate Gali Shviro came to visit on her own. Ofer saw her coming inside, dark brown and tall, her head inclined with nobility. He didn’t need to get any closer to know what scent rose from her hair.
She shook Ofer’s mother’s hand, mumbled some condolences, sat on a white plastic chair next to Ofer and grew silent. Her head was downcast, her heels tapped lightly on the floor and her eyes counted the tiles with embarrassment.
Next to the dining table, which had been moved to the corner of the room, sat two representatives from Viromedical, the factory in which Ofer’s father had worked. They spoke in hushed voices with his mother. One of them took out a cardboard file folder, fished out some documents and showed them to his mother, who looked confused and disoriented.
Ofer’s curiosity grew. He lifted himself a bit on the tips of his toes and slowly turned the plastic chair towards them, moving away from Gali.
With some effort, he managed to focus and block out all other noises, until he could hear their low voices.
“It’s difficult for me to even utter the words, but… he committed actions which could only be defined as… criminal,” said the chubbier of the two. Ofer could see only his back and thick neck.
“The indictment would have been issued in any event,” said Yanovski, the accountant, who joined the conversation and stood next to the table. “Apparently he couldn’t escape it with such conclusive evidence,” he added after leafing through the documents. “I see wire transfers for large amounts of money and correspondences by Mordechai that look really bad. Even terrible… who would have thought Mordechai would cross the line…? I guess you can never know anything about anybody… He worked in Viromedical for so many years and he loved the place. But, if I can say something in his defense, you know his family desperately needed money…” he tried to explain to the two people who sat next to the table. They nodded with understanding.
Accountant Saul Yanovski had been a friend of his father’s ever since their days in the army. Ofer liked the guy. He had a large, symmetrical bald head, a wide smiley face and a kind and childlike expression.
His mother buried her head in her hands. She hadn’t slept for two nights, and her eyes were dim and grief stricken.
“I don’t think the kid should hear or know anything about all this,” said one
of the two factory representatives and shifted in his chair with unease. Ofer suddenly recognized the man with the mustache who sat next to the table and continued to stuff his swollen cheeks with fresh pastries. Ofer turned his head but remained within hearing distance. He was happy to discover Gali was busy with her own growing embarrassment and did not hear the conversation.
“I can only guess why he did it,” said his mother softly. “We were close to bankruptcy. I’m ashamed to tell you. And the child’s medical treatments ruined us financially. He must have felt he had no choice.”
Ofer didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of the conversation. Terms such as “bribe money” and “selling commercial secrets” were thrown from clenched lips into the air, and he was not sure he understood their meaning. He didn’t want to listen to any more of it.
The possibility that his father had committed criminal acts that left them with the job of clearing the family name from the embarrassing stain and dealing with the situation by themselves caused him real physical pain. He felt that the words said about his father carried with them a filthy scent that would never leave him. Hatred flared up within him, even though he was ashamed to feel that way about his father.
The knowledge that his father committed criminal acts to pay for his own medical treatment was beyond what Ofer could endure. He had been treated for severe asthma attacks that required his hospitalization for many months. The doctors could not discover the cause of the severe physical phenomenon, and therefore he had to undergo thorough weekly medical examinations.
Up until that moment he had never recognized how his medical treatment burdened his parents financially and caused them a great distress. They’d managed to hide it perfectly. Perhaps he was too thickheaded and busy only with himself?
“It can’t be,” he mumbled to himself. It’s an outright lie. His mother was ashamed, she said so herself, so she invented stories. Before he pushed his chair back towards Gali’s, he managed to see Saul Yanovski taking the yellow cardboard file folder with the documents and shoving it beneath his armpit.