A. Yehoshua - Friendly Fire - A Duet

Efrat again turns her head toward the backseat. The possible resemblance to Moran's cousin excites her but is also confusing. She hesitates a moment before reacting, but finally has the courage to tell her father-in-law something that even her husband does not know. In her fifth month, when it was already known that the unborn child was a boy and not another girl, without consulting Moran she wrote to Yirmi and Shuli and asked for permission to name the baby after their son. But they refused. Politely, sympathetically, but firmly. She thought she was making a gesture of consolation, then realized she was only adding to their pain.

Her pale face grows very red from the thrill of telling the father something she concealed from his son. As a gesture of support Ya'ari removes a hand from the wheel and rests it on the young woman's shoulder, not far from the little hidden tattoo. It was good that you made the gesture, and good that you understood why it was refused. Although, in their place….He does not continue, and even resists thinking what he had intended to say.

Traffic on the highway is light, and although it moves at high speed, calm nerves and good manners prevail. On the east and west sides of the multilane road two identical gas stations come into view, flanked by shops and cafés. He glances at Efrat, to see if she wants to buy something for the children, who have had nothing to eat or drink since breakfast, but now her head is flopped backward just like her son's, and her eyes are closed, as if her brief confession exhausted her. Is she really sleeping, or has she closed her eyes to break off contact? A short while ago, in the bosom of nature, did she take the liberty of shouting her joy out loud, or sigh discreetly, murmuring her pleasure? He says not a word more, but turns down the heater and picks up speed.

His daughter-in-law, like his wife, surrenders trustingly to his driving and sinks deeper into sleep. This gives him an opportunity to examine from close up just what her beauty is made of. But when her radiant eyes are closed and her dimple disappears, the Madonna-like face seems a bit gaunt, her cheekbones sharp and oversized. Only her unblemished swanlike neck, adorned by a delicate gold chain, remains alluring. Is all that beauty actually something precarious and fragile, hanging by the thread of her forceful personality?

As they head south, the skies grow bluer and clearer. Ya'ari pays attention to the road signs, especially those pointing east of the highway. Only when one gets to the heart of the country does one see how sturdy and deeply rooted are the Arab settlements, small villages that have turned into crowded towns, the minarets of their new mosques jutting upward. And as a security barrier, not very high, suddenly begins to wind alongside the road to the east, he slowly pries the road atlas from the fingers of the sleeping beauty and turns the pages to see if he is right. Yes, this is Tulkarm, old and stubborn enemy, but pastoral too.

The weight of passengers' sleep can make a driver drowsy, particularly one who did not spend the night in his own bed. So he gingerly turns on the radio, looking for some soft music. Efrat opens her eyes for a moment and closes them again. If grinding rock doesn't keep her awake at night, why should mellower music during the day?

The scenery along the Trans-Israel Highway is monotonous. Herds of bulldozers have sliced through hills, obliterated farmland, uprooted humble groves, and made the crooked straight so that the drive will be smooth, without significant rises or dips or unexpected curves. But the sun, already heading west, compensates for the bland practicality of the road. Golden winter light inflames the fringes of the clouds.

In spite of the music, Ya'ari does not feel sufficiently alert to be driving at the high speed limit, and so, though the Kesem exit toward Tel Aviv is not far off, he plucks his cell phone from its cradle and calls Nofar. To his surprise, she answers, and her voice sounds soft and friendly.

"Imma is already home?"

"No, you don't remember she's due back Monday?"

"I don't get why she needs to be in Africa for such a long time."

"What are you talking about, Nofar, it hasn't even been five days."

"Five days? Is that all? So why are you talking in such a pathetic tone of voice?"

"Because I'm calling you from a car that seems more like a dormitory. Efrat and the kids are sacked out all around me. It was family day at the army base where your brother is confined, so we saw him there, and now we're going home via the Trans-Israel."

"So I have an idea. If you're already on the fast road, why don't you keep on going to Jerusalem and hop over to see me? I'm on duty now, and I also deserve a little family day."

"To Jerusalem? Right now?"

"I mean, they told me that yesterday you looked for me in my room, so today you can find me at the hospital. Come on, Abba, don't be lazy, the road will lead you to me all by itself. Less than forty minutes and you're at Sha'arei Tzedek hospital. I miss the kids. Give me Efrati, I'll talk her into it."

"I told you, she's asleep."

"So let her sleep, and when she wakes up and asks where you took her, tell her Nofar also exists. Don't tell me you're afraid of her the way you are of Imma."

"Enough, Nofar, enough with this nonsense."

But Nofar is right. Since Efrat is still atoning for her sins in dreamy slumber, there is no need to ask her consent for the detour. Jerusalem is not far away, and although the winter day is short, there'll still be time to get back to Tel Aviv.

And so, at his daughter's command, he kidnaps his daughter-in-law and grandchildren and takes them, unconscious captives, to Jerusalem. The excitements and conflicts and loves and fears of the past twenty-four hours have so exhausted all of them that they do not sense the change in the sound of the car when it leaves the plain and begins climbing into the hills. But when they stop at the first traffic light, the boy's eyes open first, then the girl's, and finally Efrat's. You slept like the dead, he says, but does not reveal where he has brought them, leaving it to his daughter-in-law to regain her bearings. Oddly, she doesn't quickly recognize the city; only as they turn toward Mount Herzl does she look at him with amazement, as if she were still fluttering in the remnant of a dream. Before she can ask, he says yes, Jerusalem. Nofar begged to see the children, but you were asleep and I couldn't ask your approval.

Her eyes gleam with ironic amusement.

"Jerusalem? Why not."

At the entrance to Sha'arei Tzedek, Nofar is waiting, dressed in a white uniform, her dark hair pulled back in an old-fashioned coil. She is elated by the sight of her niece and nephew, and hugs and kisses them, and as usual picks up Nadi in her arms as if he were a baby. They head for the large cafeteria, and find it locked up tight. Nofar says, how could I forget that they close it on Shabbat? So Ya'ari hurries to the car and returns wobbling under the weight of the loaded cooler. Digging into it, they discover that in the morning Efrat indeed filled it with many goodies. They set up their picnic near a big window. The children intently chomp the hummus-filled pitas, and Efrat warms her hands with a mug of coffee poured from a large thermos. Nofar is content with a peeled cucumber, and Ya'ari tucks heartily into the very sandwich that at noon had been shamed in the round of no, you eat it, and tries, without much success, to get his grandchildren to talk about their military outing. To most of his leading questions, he is forced to supply his own answers, getting only vague nods when he asks, at the end, right? Then Nofar asks permission from her sister-in-law to show her father something in her new department.

En route to the trauma unit Nofar equips him with a green-colored gown and helps him put it on, and leads her father into an isolated dark room, very warm, with only one bed, where lies a young half-naked man, connected by a thicket of tubes to hanging bags and machines. His head is swathed completely in white, his two eyes blazing in the center. Nofar draws close and loudly speaks his name, and the young man slowly turns his head. Here, Nofar says gaily, meet my father. He wants to be amazed by your resurrection.