Edeet Ravel - Look for Me

If you knew the things I know …but I can’t tel you. If you knew what they think of us, how much they hate us.”

“We do know the things you know. We just interpret them di erently. Or we see their feelings as natural, and temporary. Or irrelevant to ending the occupation.”

“Irrelevant! No, no, you don’t know. You don’t know and I can’t tel you, and it’s too bad. Because if you knew …you wouldn’t do the work you do. You would know that the things they say are not what they real y think. They’re lying to you when they say they want to live in peace with us. They don’t. They want to destroy us. If you saw the things they write.”

in peace with us. They don’t. They want to destroy us. If you saw the things they write.”

“Maybe they’re lying when they write. Why do you think you’re the one who knows what’s real and what isn’t?”

“Why! Because I see the consequences! I see the plans and I see them carried out!”

“You don’t know what would happen if we stopped tormenting them.”

“I do know. I do know, and I wish I could tel you.”

“It’s not that simple. You simplify things. It’s dangerous to simplify, it’s the basis of every war. Simplification.”

“You aren’t realistic.”

“I’m just more optimistic than you are, that’s al . I trust the Palestinians—they’re exactly like us. Just people. People without a home or anything else, and if we were in their situation we’d be just as desperate, and some of us would be just as militant as some of them are.”

He sighed. “Maybe the next generation wil be able to do something. It’s too late for this generation, there’s too much hatred. Nothing wil change for the next thirty years.”

“People who were slaughtering each other in Lebanon are now drinking co ee together. One of my Palestinian friends told me that. ‘That’s the Middle East, my friend,’ she said. I agree with her. It can happen, people don’t stay angry once they get what they need.”

“Why aren’t you married, by the way? Why don’t you have a family?”

“I am married, but my husband is in hiding. I’m waiting for him to come back. He thinks I won’t like him, because he was burned.”

“Burned?”

“Yes, his face and arms and parts of his body. He tried to help a soldier who was on re, and he caught re too. He’s alive, but he lives in hiding somewhere.”

“You don’t know where?”

“No. He won’t let me or anyone else see him. It wouldn’t bother me, what he looks like, but he thinks it would.”

“What a story!”

“Yes. I miss him.”

“Maybe you should forget him.”

“No, I’m not going to forget him.”

“Such a devoted wife …and he gave you up. Stil , I can sort of understand it.”

“I can’t.”

“How did the two of them catch fire?”

“Just a stupid accident. My husband was delivering laundry. That’s what he did in the army, laundry.”

“Laundry! Did he have a low profile?”

“No, he just hated the army. He wanted to do something as unrelated to combat as possible.”

“Yeah, okay. Laundry!” He shook his head incredulously. It was hard for him to grasp. “So what happened?”

“He was delivering laundry somewhere, and there was a young conscript there who was fooling around with a smoke grenade. His sleeve caught re and someone next to him doused him with the contents of a jerrican he thought was ful of water, one of those black plastic jerricans, you know the kind. But the can didn’t have water in it, it had gasoline. Everyone ran away except my husband. He tried to wrap the guy up in a blanket, but there was gasoline on the floor too.”

“What sort of idiot puts gasoline in a black plastic jerrican!” he said. He was furious, as though he’d been there and had witnessed the disaster himself.

“It was a mistake,” I said.

“A mistake,” he guf awed. “Yeah. I’l bet. Some joker, some joker who should be rot ing in prison for several centuries.”

“I don’t want to think it was on purpose. It could have been an absentminded mistake.”

“Yes, to mistake black plastic for metal, that would take a special kind of talent. Wel , did your husband save the guy’s life?”

“No, he died. It was al for nothing.”

“Not real y for nothing. He tried.”

“No, it was for nothing. A complete waste. He got a citation, but I had to go receive it. He’d vanished by then.”

“What a country. The crazy things that happen here. You know, when I was a kid, one afternoon a boulder fel on a boy, and kil ed him on the spot. Right in our backyard. We al shared a backyard, al these buildings shared one backyard, and there was a slope running along the edge of it, like a hil , with stones and boulders. And the boulder fel on this poor kid and kil ed him. One minute he was there, the next …I was eight. I sometimes think there’s a reason for al these freak accidents. Some message. A message from above.”

“What message?”

“I don’t know. That the place is dangerous. That we need to be stronger, more aware. Another guy I know got eaten alive by bees. In my high school two kids drowned, and one girl died when a branch fel on her during a hike. I swear, it’s weird.”

“Those sorts of things happen everywhere, you just don’t hear about them. We’re a smal country, so we hear about every death. We hear, and we also remember. We feel bad, and we remember.”

“Yes, that’s true. We remember.”

“Also people here are careless. They drive like they’re homicidal and on amphetamines. They think they have to be tough, so they aren’t self-protective. They don’t avoid bees and they swim where there aren’t any lifeguards. The city doesn’t clear boulders. We don’t look after ourselves, that’s the problem. We’re too arrogant and vain and we’re obsessed with being tough. Maybe we’re also suicidal.”

“That doesn’t seem to describe you.”

“You’re right, I do try to protect myself. I don’t care if people think I’m a coward.”

“I do. I would hate that. I would hate it if anyone thought I was a coward.”

“I do. I would hate that. I would hate it if anyone thought I was a coward.”

“People don’t distinguish between real bravery and just showing of . Are you going to be here every night I come and walk?”

“Do you want me to be here?”

“No, I need to be alone.”

“Who wants to be alone? Isn’t it bad enough you haven’t got your husband?” He placed his arm around my shoulder.

I slipped away from him. “Yes, it is bad enough. That’s why I need to be alone. I like to walk here and think about him.”

He was silent for a few minutes. Then he said, “Al right, I won’t bother you again. But if you ever need anything, cal me. Here’s my number.” He handed me his business card.

But he didn’t want to leave; he had something more to say, and he wasn’t sure whether he should say it or not. I waited while he deliberated. Final y he decided. “Listen, I can find your husband’s address, if you want,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I told you, I’m in a special unit. I have access to everything. I can look him up on our computer.”

“I already tried that. I mean they checked their computers at al the of ices I went to. He has a fake address, but it’s not where he lives.”

“Those weren’t the right computers,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. If he was a soldier, and he’s wounded, I can find out where he is.”

“When can you try? How soon?” My heart began to beat faster.