Assaf Gavron - The Hilltop

The cow survived the collision but was later put down, having suffered multiple fractures to its rib cage. The parents were killed on the spot when the engine crumpled in on them. And Asher was right — it was a lone shell, the only one fired that night, launched probably in error, without any precise purpose or direction, a calibration exercise, perhaps, or maybe even simply to intimidate.

* * *

The Gam-zu-Le-tova family laid it all on for Gabi. The father of the family — blue-eyed, solidly built, with a large bald spot under his skullcap — took him out for a short morning walk after he spent the night at their home, and said to him, “Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you are, but the eye sees and the ear hears, and all your deeds are inscribed in the book. I don’t think you’re a soldier, and I don’t think you know where you want to go, and I don’t know who or what you are running from. But you have nothing to fear here. As we say, ‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.’ ” Gabi didn’t understand. What shadow of death? What’s that eye and ear thing all about?

“We welcome any Jew with open arms,” the man continued. “You can stay here as long as you like, we’ll give you food and a bed. If you want to stay longer, we may be able to set you up in one of the trailers for singles. We always need help with guarding, construction, gardening work. Just tell me one thing — are you in trouble with the law or something?”

Gabi didn’t like the speech he was being subjected to, but couldn’t really fathom more favorable circumstances — a distant and remote location, someone who was willing to host him despite knowing he was an impostor. But something about the man bothered him. And something about the place annoyed him. Perhaps the man reminded him too much of the adults on the kibbutz — meddlesome, holier-than-thou, with that air of arrogance and absolute self-assurance of those who believe they know best and are amused by the efforts of others to question them. He shook his head. No, he wasn’t in trouble with the law.

He joined the family for another dinner. He went on to spend two more nights on a mattress on the floor in the children’s room, oblivious to their crying at night and the pitter-patter of their feet in the morning and their banging on the table and the crashing to the floor of their toys; he didn’t even notice David’s inquisitive efforts to pet his head and pry open one of his eyelids. He slept undisturbed almost until noon, when he opened his eyes to a quiet and empty home, raided the refrigerator and bread box, took a long shower, dressed again in the IDF uniform and Palladium boots, dug around in the pockets of the army pants, found a Noblesse, crumpled and bent but not broken, smoothed it out between his fingers, pulled out a box of matches, lit the cigarette, looked around room, and thought.

Finishing off the cigarette, he threw the butt into the remains of a cup of coffee in the kitchen sink and listened to it fizzle to its death. Then he went into the parents’ room, rummaged through the drawers, found 600 shekels tucked away in a prayer book, looked around, pocketed the money, placed a bag on his shoulder, and headed out in the direction of the gate to the settlement. He hated the place — but, as the saying goes, he had made the best of it.

Roni was called in for a chat ahead of solo-orienteering week. They wanted to make things easier for him, they expressed understanding for his unique family situation. But they laid it out straight for him nevertheless. You have your adoptive parents, who’ve already returned from abroad. There’s the kibbutz. An entire network has taken charge and is concerned and searching. You can’t be responsible for everything. You can’t wander the country high and low and expect to find one specific individual in a population of four million — particularly someone who is obviously in hiding and doesn’t want to be found. What are the chances? You have commitments, they said. Be thankful you aren’t in a regular unit, which wouldn’t afford you these special leaves of absence. So, come on, Roni, get ahold of yourself. We have missions and duties to carry out, training and exercises. We have a week of solo orienteering. Roni nodded. Yes, yes, I know. I’m sorry for not being myself of late, it’s just the whole story, you know. Yes, we know, they said, but…

Yes, Roni replied. He’d get his act together, he’d complete the orienteering drill in first place, he’d show everyone the real Roni Kupper. He thought about all the time wasted, all the traveling, without even getting close to a single lead. He didn’t have a clue about where to go, where to try. He had thought initially about contacting the police, but in a call from abroad, Dad Yossi told him in no uncertain terms to refrain from speaking with them, so he carried on wandering around with a photograph of his brother, along with a basic description, although the Golani uniform and pin were probably discarded by then. And while he knew his chances were slim, he needed those hours on the road — to feel remorse, to cry, to think about the mistakes he had made, about the years spent distancing himself, about Yifat, the fucking bitch.

Dad Yossi and Mom Gila didn’t move up their scheduled return from Europe by a single minute, despite the fact that Roni called them at their hotel on the second night (out of twelve) to tell them that Gabi had disappeared, and continued to call them almost every evening, asking them to return, begging almost, and becoming very angry. Yossi, at the hotel, asked Gila, and Gila let out a smoky chuckle and shook her head from side to side and asked, “Can you see what I’m doing? Can you see me? Do you know the meaning of this motion?” Neither Gabi nor anyone else was going to interrupt her trip. She barely showed any interest at all, while Yossi rushed every day to check for a message in the lobby, or worriedly scratched his gray head.

But the moment they returned to the kibbutz, Yossi took charge of things and set up a search command center in his and Gila’s room. He didn’t involve the police — it’s an internal matter — but decided to release Gabi’s photograph and description to the Davar newspaper, and it wasn’t long before people began calling and offering conflicting reports. He was seen in Kiryat Ata, Eilat, Herzliya, Tiberias, and Be’er Tuvia. He was seen sporting a beard, wearing a hat, dressed in the uniform of the Israeli Air Force, wearing an elegant gray suit. Roni offered to check out all the leads himself, but Dad Yossi convinced him to return to his unit to do the week of orienteering, while he, the father, got on a bus and traveled south to Gila’s brother in Kibbutz Revivim, stopping along the way at all the places mentioned in the reports, and then heading down to Eilat.

Roni decided to spend the weekend before the orienteering drill at the kibbutz, to rest and clear his head, but instead he clouded it with large quantities of Goldstar beer and a drunken and unexpected episode, the details of which he was unable to recall afterward, with the beautiful Orit from his class at school, who was serving at the time at an air force base and had a pilot boyfriend who was on duty for the weekend. He woke late on Saturday and then went over to the command center to check for an update on the situation.

Roni returned on Sunday to his base, and from there, everyone got on a bus and headed south. His unit commander sat alongside him for part of the ride, and asked how he was doing, and how the search was going, he had seen the notice in Davar at his kibbutz, has anyone responded? He was pleased Roni had made it, reminded him that orienteering week was important, part of a large-scale military exercise that the chief of staff would be monitoring. Their unit had a vital role to play in the drill, locating the objectives and leading the forces, and it was important to him for Roni to be involved. He knew Roni was talented, that he could do it, but he had to remain focused. It was an opportunity for Roni to put recent events behind him, he said — he understood just how tough things had been — adjust his mind-set, and reestablish himself as a part of the unit, which loved and embraced him.