Марко Коскас - Goodbye Paris, Shalom Tel Aviv

When they’re alongside the girls, the two policemen get out of the car and lean on both doors of the Audi.

“Hello, ladies,” says the older of the two. “May we know where you’re going?”

“What’s he saying?” Olga asks Juliette.

“We’re visiting,” Juliette answers in Hebrew.

“But what are you visiting? There’s nothing to see around here.”

“Can we talk English?” Olga intervenes in English. “I don’t understand Hebrew.”

“Ah, you’re French?” the cop answers, also in English. “OK. What are you going to do up there?”

“Assist a Bedouin family,” Olga answers firmly.

“Assist how?” the cop asks.

“With money,” Olga replies.

“I thought you were visiting,” the young cop intervenes in Hebrew.

“Well, yeah, since we don’t know the area,” Juliette retorts in Hebrew too. “It’s an excuse to visit at the same time.”

“What’d he say, Jul?” Olga says, worried. “What did you say?” she asks the cop in English.

“Show us this money,” the young cop says, snapping his fingers unpleasantly.

Olga turns off the ignition and grabs the bag containing the two-hundred-shekel bills. She takes out the wad and gives it to the younger one.

“They know you, those Bedouins up there?” he asks, after glancing at the money.

“Not personally, no, but it’s because they… well, I mean they had problems, and Tag Shalom is helping them out financially,” Olga explains in a voice that’s not so firm anymore—quavering, in fact.

“What kind of problems?”

“They need a good lawyer, in fact, that’s why—”

“You have your papers?” the old cop asks in Hebrew. As Olga sees Juliette getting out her ID card, she looks for her passport and unwillingly gives it to the policeman, trying to smile. What bad luck, this chance meeting!

The old one goes back to the car with the IDs, while his colleague stays next to the Audi with the money in his hands, now leaning on the passenger side of the windshield, looking at the girls without saying a word. You’d think he was trying to find something to get them for, something wrong with the car, no doubt, but as it’s an impeccable rental, Olga doesn’t worry about it. Unless he just wants to create a feeling of unease by his insistent, hostile look. Israeli cops are often unpleasant, a bit like the drivers of the Egged bus fleet, who drive at breakneck speeds in the middle of town and take off by slamming the door in passengers’ faces. Not conciliatory at all, and real nitpickers with the slightest offender. The old policeman comes back with their IDs.

“You’re a reporter at H24?” he asks Olga in English.

“Yes, I am… how do you know?” she asks, surprised.

“So you know Elias Benzaquen?” the cop continues.

“Umm, yes,” Olga answers uneasily, beginning to panic.

“How?”

“My… well, a colleague… just a colleague,” Olga pretends, and Juliette can’t help giving her an anxious look. Why’s she lying, dammit? What shit is this girl getting her into here?

“What about you?” the young cop asks Juliette in Hebrew.

“I work in a gallery.”

“No, but you know that guy?”

“I knew him,” Juliette answers in Hebrew, knowing that Olga doesn’t understand.

“And you’re finished with him?” the cop says in a slightly smutty tone, playing on the verb finish , which, in Israeli slang, also means “to come.”

“No, that’s not it, but we—”

“Who are you, to him?”

“Someone he used to know.”

“OK,” says the old one. “Follow us.”

“But why?” Olga protests. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Follow us, please. And don’t try to escape. Can I trust you?”

“Escape?” Olga retorts. “But we’re not prisoners, as far as I know!”

“You are now under arrest, so do not try to get away from us. OK?”

“Right… OK,” Olga answers feverishly, after a moment of hesitation.

The police get back into the white Toyota and start off in a wind of gravel, with their flashing red and blue lights on the roof, while Olga starts the engine of the Audi just behind them.

“Why did you tell them he was just a colleague?” Juliette finally manages to ask.

“Because I… well, you see… it’s incredibly complicated!”

“Exactly what are you hiding from me? What the hell is that money? What trap are you dragging me into here?”

“Oh, look, a coyote!”

Juliette turns her head toward the animal slipping between the rocks, but she quickly returns to the embarrassing question.

“Olga, please! Answer me!”

“I swear it’s not a trap, Jul! It’s just that Elias had a big problem, and I wanted to help him.”

“What problem?”

“You’re mad at me, I can understand,” she finally says to Juliette. “But I swear to God I didn’t want to get you into hot water. You believe me, Jul? Say yes, please. I love you so much!”

Juliette takes out her tobacco and rolls herself a cigarette. “What is Elias’s problem?” she asks coldly, determined to get a clear answer. “Tell me, or I’ll never speak to you again!”

Olga is on the verge of tears. She pours out the whole story while gripping Juliette’s hand, and Juliette doesn’t miss a bit of it. She laps up every word. She expected almost anything except this story. She’s shattered to hear the judicial spiral Elias got caught in with this business. So at last, that ’s the cause of his odious behavior, she tells herself. Everything is clear now. Poor Elias! If only he confided in her instead of fleeing her and becoming so cruel! If only he had the humility and the frankness and the simplicity to ask for her help instead of playing the cynical seducer! Of course she would have sacrificed herself for him. A thousand times, even! But how could she have suspected he needed her so much?

Juliette’s reading of the events is certainly highly personal.

Why not, after all? It’s so consoling to see things in this light that casts events in a way that serves her needs.

“So that was it!” she mutters when Olga has ended the story. “If I’d only known.”

“You couldn’t have done a thing, believe me, Jul. It’s all my fault, don’t you see? Elias went off the deep end to give me that damn jewel.”

“My God,” Juliette goes on in a murmur. “And Manu told me nothing about it! Not a word! What a bastard!”

“You don’t understand it’s a secret, or what? He was bound to secrecy, Manu. And now you’re bound to secrecy too! D’you swear to keep this to yourself?”

“Keep what to myself?”

“Understand me, I promised Elias I wouldn’t tell you anything!”

“But why, God dammit?” Juliette protests, stretching her neck as if she’s talking to heaven. “Why be so cruel? We spent almost a year together!”

“Who?” Olga asks, puzzled. “You and Manu?”

Juliette looks at her with a mixture of anger and affection, disarmed by her naivete.

That’s when Olga finally realizes her good friend Juliette, her new girlfriend, the girlfriend she adores, is her man’s ex—and not a passing ex but an ex who counts. Juliette understands that she has finally understood and lowers her head contritely, ashamedly even, for having played this game of misunderstandings for so long instead of being frank from the very start. Long sighs escape from both their chests at the same time, like a chorus of regrets. They drive along in silence behind the cops, but their thoughts about Elias still file by from one brain to another, from one heart to another. They drive without knowing where this business will lead them, even if they’re fundamentally innocent. They drive, innocent and yet accomplices, victims and yet guilty, both of them, for keeping their little secrets.