Eshkol Nevo - Homesick

Ladies and gentlemen, the tie started talking to the camera, and all the people in the room shut up, out of respect for the occasion. Ladies and gentlemen, drama at high noon. Our neighbourhood, which went through a difficult time a few months ago when it lost one of its sons in Lebanon, is back in the headlines tonight with gunfire in a private home, apparently related to terrorist activity. All the details are not yet known, but we are trying to find out now: what happened? Why were shots fired? Is this incident related to the recent suicide bombings? This is Sharon Dadon, Mevasseret On the Air . We’ll be right back with the latest updates.

The cameraman turned the camera on the midget. The tie told the microphone man to start recording right away, what was he waiting for. The microphone man looked down and pressed whatever button he pressed. The tie looked into the camera and said: we’re here with the highest-ranking police officer in the field. What details can you add, sir?

The midget cleared his throat twice and smoothed down a couple of rebellious eyebrow hairs: Unfortunately … he said with his chest puffed out self-importantly, but then he stopped talking and rubbed his chin. Avram was standing very close to Gina, as if the demon inside him was also afraid of the cameras. Saddiq kept on banging the wall with his chisel, trying to attract attention to himself.

I ran my fingers through my hair and thought about how when Moshe comes home at night, I’ll tell him about all of this and he won’t believe me. Not a single word.

Meanwhile, the midget tried to get started again: Unfortunately, he said, for obvious reasons, I am prevented from saying any more about this incident. All I can say is that the police will do everything it can to wrap up this case quickly while looking out for the interests of the public.

But even so, sir, the reporter persisted, perhaps you could shed a little light on what happened here during the last hour. Is there any truth to the rumour that shots were fired? Was anyone injured?

No comment, the midget answered authoritatively, and in order to stress that he meant it, he closed his eyes and repeated: no comment.

I can tell you what happened here, sir, Saddiq said suddenly from the top of the ladder.

The cameraman moved quickly towards him, bumped into the sofa and swore in English. The lighting man, the man with the microphone and the reporter followed him and stood around the ladder. Then perhaps you’ll tell us, the reporter said, how everything started?

Everything started an hour ago, Saddiq said. No, actually everything started fifty years ago, when the Jews came in and threw my family out of this house. On the night they drove us out, my mother left something here. And today I came here, to my house, to get what belongs to me.

I un-der-stand, the tie said in the tone of someone who didn’t understand a thing. So how did things deteriorate into shooting?

The shooting’s because of him, Saddiq said, pointing his chisel at the midget.

Because of me?! He threatened me with a knife, the midget said, breaking the official silence he’d imposed on himself just half a minute ago. That man broke into a private home, harassed the tenants and threatened to kill me with a knife.

Liar! He didn’t threaten to kill you, Avram broke away from Gina’s embrace and all the media’s attention switched right over to him. That man on the ladder is my son, Nissan. He came home to see me, his father. And all these people want to take him away from me. So I came out with the bread knife and told them that if Nissan goes, I cut.

And that’s when the shot was fired? the tie asked, and you could hear a little bit of disappointment creeping into his voice.

No, what are you talking about? Avram explained slowly, as if he was speaking to a child. Nissan here took the knife out of my hand and gave it to the policeman, and then the policeman shot at him for no reason.

The tie turned to the camera and motioned for the lighting man to turn the lights on his face. He squinted and said: It’s still too early to say, but from the testimonies we’ve heard in the field, it is possible that we’re talking about a police foul-up. And if so, it won’t be the first foul-up the Israeli Police has made recently, and perhaps, perhaps we’re talking here about a syndrome, a syndrome that some higher-ups are calling ‘the shoot first, think later syndrome’, while others are calling it …

What syndrome? What syndrome?!! the midget interrupted and tried to squeeze between the reporter and the camera.

Hey! the cameraman yelled.

Please, the tie said to the midget, you’re interfering with the media trying to do its job.

And maybe you’re interfering with me trying to do my job? the midget said, not moving from where he was. The two of them stood facing each other, like in a western. You could have cut the tension between them with a knife. A bread knife. But before either one could draw, some neighbours from our street burst into Avram and Gina’s living room. Somebody must have seen the television crew coming in and called everybody. Dalia’s Nissim was there. And Razi, who used to deliver for the supermarket. And Avi from Avi’s Flowers. And some other old people who always sit on the bench near the park and hassle the girls walking by. They stood in the middle of the living room, took a quick look at Saddiq, another one at the cameraman, and started yelling: Death to the Arabs! Death to the Arabs!

The lighting man turned on the spotlights. The cameraman rushed around trying to arrange the setting. The policemen started pushing the demonstrators out. By force. Watch the lamp! Gina yelled, watch the lamp, but everyone knew that Razi the delivery man was not the calm type. Once, he cracked an egg on the head of a woman who wanted to give him a tip, and now he gave Zabiti a little whack right on his scar, and Zabiti pulled out his club and a commotion started. Gina and I ran into the kitchen, behind the counter, and watched what was going on from there. I had a weird feeling — as if I was watching a film, the kind they show on the movie channel at two in the morning — as if none of it was really happening. Avi Flowers jiggled Saddiq’s ladder to shake him off it, but Avram went over and slapped him. Razi the delivery man and Zabiti had grabbed each other’s collars and were shouting at each other, don’t touch me! don’t touch me! The tie reported to the camera on the violent demonstration. The horny old men from the park bench started chanting: Po-lice State! Po-lice State! And everyone else joined in. The midget chased after Dalia’s Nissim, trying to get handcuffs on him. Gina said, call the police! Call the police! I told her that the police were already here and dragged her a littler further into the kitchen, just in case. The big picture fell off the living room wall and the glass frame shattered into a million pieces. Avi Flowers stepped on one of them and started screaming, I’m hurt! I’m hurt! And his blood dripped on to the carpet. That’s the end of our carpet, Gina said and called to Avram to let go of the ladder and come into the kitchen. A big black dog ran into the living room and started barking at the cameraman, of all people, and the tie raised his voice so he could be heard over the general uproar: the Israeli Police have once again demonstrated how powerless they are when dealing with situations of this kind. We are seeing once again how lack of judgement creates new problems instead of solving existing ones. Once again …

Halas with that ‘once again’, Zabiti said and snatched the camera with one hand (the other was still holding Razi’s collar). The tie suddenly looked helpless without the camera. The cameraman mumbled in English: this is un-fucking-believable, un-fucking-believable, and then went up to Zabiti and yelled at him in English: are you out of your mind, man?! Do you know who I am?