Amos Oz - A Perfect Peace

"Hava," I said with unaccustomed firmness, "you're being ridiculous. I must ask you to excuse me and leave me alone for now. Please go home or to work. You're no help at all to me here."

I waited for the fireworks, but to my great surprise she obeyed at once, though not before begging me to forget her outburst, swearing she had faith in me "as in an angel of God," promising to bring a better electric heater for my office, and ordering me to continue taking aspirin. From the door she exclaimed, "You're a dear."

I wish she hadn't said that. That's no way to talk to me.

As soon as she was gone I panicked. Had I actually invited her to move in with me? Suppose she took me up on it? Was I out of my mind? What would I do with her? What would Yolek say? What would the whole kibbutz say? What would P. think? Madness.

In any case, I didn't have long to regret it. Within a few minutes a police van pulled up in front of the office. Out of it stepped a captain and a sergeant, who asked to talk to the secretary.

"The secretary is indisposed," I said.

The captain was insistent. "This is an urgent matter. Who's in charge here?"

"I beg your pardon. I am. I was referring to the former secretary. It's he who is sick. I'm the new secretary."

Well, then, it was me they wished to talk to, as well as a member of the family. They were already at work on the case. Yesterday they had picked up a young man roaming the beach at Atlit, but he had turned out not to be our client. From Ashkelon there had been a report of a suspicious individual who had slept half the night on a bench in the bus station but he disappeared before the police arrived. Yesterday and this morning, too, they had combed the ruins of Sheikh Dahr. If I'm not mistaken we had a call from you people about some suspect sign of life there a few months ago, didn't we? What we need now, however, is as much accurate background information as we can get. Was there a family quarrel? Any emotional disturbance? Other problems? Did the young man have a previous history of disappearing? Where did he get the weapon he took with him? Were there any reliable full-face photographs of him available? Did he have any identifying marks? What was he wearing when he left? What exactly did he take with him? Did he have any known enemies? Could we draw up a list of the names and addresses of friends, relatives, or acquaintances with whom he might be staying? Did he have a passport? Did he have family abroad?

I rose to open the window, letting in a biting draft of air. Udi happened to be passing by outside, and I asked him to find Rimona and have her come to the office. By herself, I stressed. While waiting for her, I tried to answer a few of their questions as best I could. The sergeant wrote down everything I said.

"This is strictly confidential," said the captain, "we received an urgent phone call this morning from the ministry of defense. Mr. Eshkol's military attaché personally asked us to go all out on this case. I take it that our party's father is in the Knesset? A good friend of some very important people?"

"Thank you," I said. "I'm sure you would have done everything possible in any case."

When Rimona arrived, she helped me serve my guests coffee, smiling her incongruous, wistful smile at nobody in particular, her dark eyes glowing, her blond hair covered by a kerchief. Noticing that a calendar on the wall was hanging crooked, she straightened it before sitting down. Her answers, or so I thought, must have made a rather strange impression on the two officers of the law.

"Lifshitz, Rimona?"

"Yes, that's me." She smiled as if astonished that they should have known.

"Pleased to meet you. My name is Inspector Bechor. And this is Sergeant Yakov. Our sympathy. We hope to have good news for you soon. You have no objection to our asking you a few questions?"

"Thank you for coming to visit. And for your sympathy. It's Yonatan who needs the sympathy, but he is away now. And Azariah needs it too."

"Who's Azariah?"

"Yoni's and my friend. There are three of us."

"What do you mean, three of you?"

"We're three friends."

"Please, Mrs. Lifshitz. Try to keep your answers to the point. That way we can be the most help and the least bother to you."

"Everyone is being very kind and helpful. Srulik, and you, and Yakov. And anyway, winter is almost over and spring is on its way."

"All right, then. I'll read you what we've got written here, and then Yakov will take down whatever you have to add. You may stop me any time you find inaccuracies."

Rimona smiled at the picture on the calendar. For some reason I recalled that time in the dining hall when she told me 1 shouldn't be sad because everything was looking up.

"All right. Lifshitz, Yonatan. Father's name, Yisra'el… is that right? Aged twenty-six. Married. No children."

"Just Efrat."

"Who's Efrat?"

"Our daughter."

"Begging your pardon?"

I was forced to intervene at this point. "That's their baby who died a year ago."

"Our sympathy. If this isn't too difficult for you, perhaps we can proceed?"

"It isn't difficult for me. Is it for you?"

"Army rank, captain. A reservist in reconnaissance. With a medal for bravery. 'Distinguished conduct under fire,' it says here. Last worked as a mechanic. A member of this kibbutz. Five foot ten inches. Dark complexion. Longish hair. No identifying marks. Left home without notice early Wednesday morning, March 2. Destination unknown. Left behind no written message. Dressed in an army uniform and thought to be armed. Do you happen to know where he got the weapon? Did he have a license for it? What kind was it?"

"It was black, I think. From the army. It was kept in a locked chest under the bed."

"Why do you think he took it with him?"

"He always does."

"What do you mean by 'always'?"

"Whenever he's called."

"But this time I understand that he was not called."

"Oh, but he was."

"By whom?"

"He didn't say. He didn't exactly know. He just heard them calling him from far away and said that he had to go. And he really did have to."

"When exactly did he tell you all this?"

"In the middle of the night once. When it was raining very hard. He said he was being called somewhere and they wouldn't wait forever."

"When exactly did he say this?"

"I already told you. In the rain."

"Where did he say this call was coming from?"

"He didn't know. From far away. He said he had to go because it was hard for him here."

"You'll have to excuse me, ma'am, for this next question. Did the two of you ever have any problems, any family quarrels?"

Rimona smiled. "He just went away. Everyone would like to go away. He went where he wanted to go. Azariah wanted to come, and so he came. And he stayed. We can wait. We won't be sad. And don't you be sad either."

"But what was the stated purpose of his departure?"

"He said: 'I'm going to my own place.'"

"His own place?"

"I think there might be such a place."

"You think there might be what?"

"A place that's his own."

"To be sure. But where do you think this place is?"

"Wherever is right for him. There is a right place for you too. And for Srulik. You take a spear and go out and kill an antelope."

And so it went until the captain finally threw a sideways glance at the sergeant, thanked Rimona and me, extended yet more sympathy, and promised that everything would turn out all right since he knew from experience that most problems of this nature were settled in a matter of days. Rimona remained seated. In the awkward silence that followed, she suggested that she bring in her embroidery and some refreshments. I had no choice but to tell her that I wished to be left alone with the police. Once she'd left, the captain asked cautiously, "What's her problem? She must still be in shock, eh?"