Assaf Gavron - The Hilltop

Anna worked as a waitress at one of the beach restaurants and sometimes went along with Gabi to his meetings with donors. Meshulam was happy to pass that sort of meeting on to Gabi after the success in New York, and Gabi was happy to get away from the routine of the office, which included endless phone calls to Jewish institutions and potential or existing donors, and arranging in-home meetings or similar events for Meshulam. There was something refreshing about the one-on-ones with the donors, and Gabi discovered that he was fond of many of the old folks and enjoyed listening to their stories. Meshulam was all for the idea of Anna tagging along to the meetings, because he knew the old men loved the company of a young, pretty woman, a typical born-and-bred kibbutz girl (the volunteer father wasn’t mentioned), and Anna and Gabi were pleased because they got to spend time together at dinners, some of them excellent, with wine flowing freely, for which they paid not a cent, and Gabi also received a salary. The old folks were for the most part likable and harmless gentlemen, happy to have the opportunity to spend an evening among youth. Only one tried to ask her out on a private second date, and even offered to transfer a portion of his inheritance into her name. Meshulam managed to find a dignified way out of the awkward situation.

One evening they had dinner with Samuel Lax, a Jew born into a wealthy family. His father had done very well for himself in the real-estate business in Chicago after World War II, and the son went on to diversify the business among several additional fields in which he did no less well for himself, like the manufacturing of paper products, primarily paper take-away cups — for a long time he was the leading producer of the cups in the United States, until people discovered China.

The main topic of conversation at these meetings was, naturally, the State of Israel: its future, its internal politics, foreign relations; the donors were ardent Zionists, and it was Gabi’s job to fan those feelings. But Gabi enjoyed trying to identify the personality types hidden behind the Jewish-Israeli patriotism: the ones caught up in themselves and their successful business biographies, who spoke endlessly about money; the bitter ones who focused on family members who had annoyed or abandoned them; and the open ones, the ones who showed an interest, who knew a great deal, were full of fascinating stories about trips around the world and surprising encounters, and displayed a lot of curiosity. Lax was of the last type. He asked about their kibbutzim, their families, their childhoods, and told them about his visits to kibbutzim in the ’60s — he even tried to establish a paper-cup manufacturing plant in the Galilee, but at that time, drinking coffee from a paper cup was unthinkable in Israel.

After inquiring about the background of the young couple, Lax asked about their plans. They looked at each other. They had discussed the future several times. Gabi was happy to stay here for a while. To save a little more, and at some stage down the line return perhaps to the kibbutz, or maybe to Tel Aviv, to join his brother, who knows. Anna said she was thinking of going to university, but she didn’t know where or what she’d study. At Tel Aviv University, Lax said, there was a business school named after his father. His family donated a lot to the university, the next time they were over, they had to go see the sign on the building. After Lax said that, he looked at Anna with his kind eyes and said, “Why don’t you go study there? I think it would suit you. I’m good at recognizing people with the right instincts, with intelligence, and with courage. And those are the three most important things in business, in the end, although there are those who are successful without them, too. I think we’re lacking female entrepreneurs in Israel. I like to see girls at our school.”

Anna’s fork had just slipped a portion of creamed potatoes into her mouth, and she froze and stared at Samuel. She drew the fork out of her mouth, laid it gently and attentively on the table, fluttered her eyelids, and lowered her gaze to the plate. Lax and Gabi watched her all the while in silence. “I… I didn’t think about… I mean, thanks… I…” She smiled. When her gaze found Gabi’s eyes, in them she saw question marks and a tinge of sorrow.

When they returned home later in the night, with several glasses of wine throbbing in their heads, they made love, after which they lay there sleepily in each other’s arms.

“Interesting, what he said,” Anna said.

“About what? He said lots of interesting things,” Gabi responded.

“About going to school. Business. I’ve never thought about taking that road, but some people are perceptive. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe he’s simply got his eye on you? Another dirty old man trying to make an impression with his money, buttering you up. He also looks relatively young for these old folks, no? His hair is black.”

Anna laughed. “Fool. Didn’t you get that he’s gay?”

“Gay? How am I supposed to know?”

“It was obvious, by the way he looked at me. And at you. And the fact that he didn’t mention family. And his hair was dyed, yes, he’s better groomed than most of the old folks we meet.”

“Are you sure?” Gabi asked.

“Pretty sure,” she said. “But you didn’t answer me. What do you think about me going to study business?”

Gabi caressed her flat stomach and thought for a few moments. He hadn’t liked hearing Lax say those things to her. Now, though, with the possibility raised that courtship wasn’t the millionaire’s motive, how did he feel? He still wasn’t enamored.

“Particularly because of that,” Anna continued before he answered, “like he didn’t have a vested interest in saying it, it’s more flattering, right?”

“Yes, it sounds good,” Gabi said. “If you think it suits you.” And after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, he asked, “So we’re going back to Tel Aviv?”

“You want to?” she asked.

He wanted anything that included her in the plans, and said it. She turned toward him in the darkness and held his face between her small hands. “I love you so much, Gabi. I’m so lucky you fell into my lap.” Her voice trembled a little. She kissed him on the lips, a brief kiss. “I fell into your lap? You’re the one who fell into mine,” he responded. “So lucky,” she repeated, and now her voice squeaked, and the tears began to flow, and he sensed a huge wave was threatening to drown him, and he sniffed, too, and hugged her tight, and didn’t say a word. He wondered sometimes what she found in him, what she loved about him. She could very easily attract the attention of many men, and did. The answer he gave himself was that they simply had good chemistry. They were happy together, and that was that, and there was no need to go searching for any other explanations. With her at his side, he felt complete.

Living in Tel Aviv is living among power lines and solar water-heating systems and peeling plaster and plentiful young people, trees and stores that are open sufficient hours of the day and night to allow you to feel that you’re not at a way station to the real thing. Anna went every morning to university and returned in the evening. Gabi got up late, tidied the house, did the shopping, prepared lavish dinners, and thought about what he was going to do with himself. One of Roni’s former classmates from the kibbutz had opened a flyer-distribution business, so three days a week Gabi shoved flyers into mail slots, or threw escort agency calling cards onto the windshields of cars, using a technique he believed he invented — ambling along the sidewalk alongside the parked cars and throwing the calling card, in an arc, so that it landed in the center of the windshield and slid down under the wiper. Before long he became an area manager — no longer did he shove flyers or throw calling cards himself, but instead handled five young guys who did it. The work brought in a bit of cash, and together with Sam Lax’s support for Anna’s studies and the remains of Uncle Yaron’s savings plan, they lived comfortably.