Edeet Ravel - Look for Me

“You’re late,” I said when he entered the restaurant at exactly seven. It was a worn-out joke, but I always liked it. Vronsky was incapable of being late. Or early.

“If I gave you a hundred dol ars, would you wear jeans?” I asked him. He always wore a nondescript pair of trousers, and he seemed to have several identical pairs. It was impossible to say what color they were. They negated the concept of color.

“Hi, Dana. How are you?” He sat down opposite me and folded the cloth napkin in four, set it aside. No one I knew used cloth napkins; they were just there for show, or for tourists. “I don’t have jeans.”

“If I gave you a hundred dol ars and bought you a pair of jeans, would you wear them?”

“They wouldn’t fit.”

“What if you came with me to the store?”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“What if I told you it would be a dream come true?”

“I’d think you were joking around.”

“No, you’re wrong, Vronsky. It would give me immense pleasure to go shopping with you and buy you real clothes.”

“As you know, I don’t like new clothes. I know it’s sil y and irrational, but I feel self-conscious in new clothes. How are you?”

“How do I look?”

“Worried. A bit pale.”

“Tel me what else you’ve noticed.”

“Your shirt is a lit le torn, at the sleeve.”

“What else? In the restaurant?”

“Nothing’s changed here. The waitress has had a haircut. That’s al .”

The waitress heard us and came over to take our order. “My friend likes your new hairstyle,” I told her. Vronsky was embarrassed, but he smiled.

She smiled back. “Thanks, my boyfriend thinks it’s too short. But everyone else likes it. Maybe he doesn’t want me to be too pret y!” She took our order. I always had the same thing, spinach cannel oni, but Vronsky went down the menu, dish by dish, and then he’d start at the top again, so that every week he had something else. He was very particular about food, and one reason he liked this restaurant was that he thought the chef was excel ent. He once surprised me and the waitress by commenting, at the end of the meal, “I guess the chef’s on vacation?” He’d noticed the dif erence at once.

While we waited for the food to arrive I said, “Tel me about your latest patients.” This was one of our favorite topics.

“Wel , today a very young child came in with internal injuries. They were rather unusual, and we were ba ed, and the parents were ba ed too. They couldn’t think of anything that had happened. We were al cal ed in to see if anyone had any ideas. Final y, after we quizzed the parents for a very long time, we discovered what it was. Water. They’d held this poor child too long under the tap at the beach.

quizzed the parents for a very long time, we discovered what it was. Water. They’d held this poor child too long under the tap at the beach.

The stream was too strong for him. And apparently he’d screamed his head o , but they thought it was just because he didn’t like the water.

They decided for that reason to keep him under the jet longer, to desensitize him, so to speak. Get him used to the water, make a man of him. And the pressure of the jet caused some internal damage. I’m surprised a shower jet would be that strong.”

“That’s real y weird.”

“Yes, it was an unusual case. A very sensitive child.”

“No, that’s not what’s weird. What’s weird is that I know who you mean, I think. I think I saw them. A young couple, immigrants, he has freckles, she has very large breasts?”

“That may be them.”

“That’s the strangest coincidence! I saw a couple on the beach this morning and they were holding this thin lit le scrawny kid under the tap

—it’s not a shower tap, it’s one of those low taps for washing your feet. That’s why the stream is so strong. And the kid was screaming, that’s why I remember it. The more he screamed, the more determined they were. They were in on it together, enjoying it together, it was horrible.

I nal y went up to them, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t say anything; I guess I was intimidated. I feel so bad that I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m sure nothing you could have said would have helped. They’re quite stupid, the two of them.”

“Wil he be okay?”

“We’re keeping him under observation, we’l see how things develop.”

“Why are doctors so vague?”

“Wel , diagnosis is not an exact science, you know. The whole eld of medicine is fraught with uncertainty. Look at the strange story of your ankle.”

“Don’t let that kid go back. Vronsky, promise me you’l alert the social workers. If you don’t, I wil . Those parents are dangerous.”

“In fact, the social worker has already opened a file; it’s mandatory in such cases.”

“Maybe I could adopt him,” I said hopelessly.

“Yes, him and al the thousands of other children with imperfect lives. Dana, imperfect lives are the norm. Your childhood was the exception: doting, responsible parents, a degree of af luence—and even in your case tragedy hit when you were only fourteen.”

“That reminds me of something that happened a long time ago. Something Daniel and I saw.”

“Yes?”

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of very sad things. Sometimes they’re so sad I think I won’t be able to bear it. Refugee camps, people at roadblocks, Dar al-Damar … But the saddest thing I ever saw, the worst thing, wasn’t what you’d expect. It was a long time ago, before Daniel left. We went to pick mushrooms in the forest. It was one of those perfect days—blue sky, sunny, a soft breeze. And there was this other couple there and they had a daughter who was about four. They were lovely parents, very sensitive. They spoke to her in soft, gentle voices. And the daughter—wel , I never saw anything like it. You see these idealized kids in Renaissance paintings, but they’re not meant to be realistic. But she was smiling at everyone, she was glowing, I never saw anything like it. She was the happiest kid, maybe the happiest person, on earth, and she wanted to share her happiness with everyone, she was smiling at everyone in this sweet, happy, trusting way.

Daniel and I just couldn’t believe it. She was ful of love. And we were both heartbroken— because she was on the wrong planet. It was just so horrible to think of what was waiting for her, how life would hurt her. Someone like that, you want them to be on an island somewhere.”

“There’s a phase in child development that matches what you describe.”

“No, this was dif erent. She stood out. I never saw anyone like this. I never saw any kid smiling like that at strangers.”

“I don’t know. Sounds a bit sentimental to me, Dana.”

“You’d know what I meant if you saw her.”

“We al manage to survive. We al go from innocence and glory to adulthood. You want a paradise where everyone is happy. It’s unrealistic.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Maybe you and Daniel were saddened by the girl because you wanted a child.”

“No, we were sad because she was such a rare and beautiful thing and we knew it wouldn’t last, she’d be crushed.”

“If she had nice parents, and inner strength, why wouldn’t she go on being ful of love? Maybe she’s one of those lucky people who stay happy al their lives.”

“I would like to believe that. But I don’t think it’s likely.”

“You identify with her. I guess I do too, listening to you.”

“Did you have a happy childhood, Vronsky?”

“At times,” he said elusively. He almost never talked about his personal life.

“I have something important to tel you, Vronsky. A few things happened this week. First, I found out something about my husband. It turns out that people in the army know where he is, but they refuse to tel me.”