Chapter 5
Are you sure you’re okay, Diti?” Halimi repeated, his eyes reduced to thin slits. I’d already told him several times that I was fine, that I just needed rest, that Dan deserved a thrashing, and that I would tell him what had happened later. But I sure as hell didn’t look fine.
He’d just lit a cigarette, still disturbed by the fact that he’d fallen asleep in the middle of a mushroom trip, when I showed up, exhausted and glassy-eyed in the waning twilight, all but materializing in front of him from the void.
I was still holding the ten-agorot coin, and the palm branch was tucked into my pants.
Halimi told me he’d had a wonderful dream: A little after I wandered off, he got up suddenly and walked to the shore at lightning speed, and when he got to the sea, he simply continued walking through it, and the more he walked, the lower the level of the water went, as if the tide were rapidly going out.
The sea receded even faster than he was walking, leaving in its wake strips of sand and sandstone that sprang to life like a cartoon, sprouting bushes and trees and weeds, filling up with the buzzing of insects and the sound of distant voices.
Finally, he reached an ancient village, and the people there were dressed like cavemen, in rags of leather and fur, and everyone stared at him and gestured strangely.
They followed him as he walked to the center of the village, where he saw a circle of small stones, like a miniature Stonehenge, and in the middle of it, a spring was gurgling.
He couldn’t remember exactly what happened there, but in the end he almost drowned in the spring and was ejected back to the same tree he had fallen asleep under. He awoke, his senses overwhelmed.
Peering at the sky, Halimi noticed that at least two hours had gone by since he had fallen asleep.
He’d wondered where I’d disappeared to and whether he should run back to the house or start looking for me.
After this, he said, an inner voice told him that I was close by, and he resolved to take it easy.
I’d probably gone off somewhere to pee, he thought, and perhaps I’d been here the whole time.
And then I suddenly emerged, just when he had decided to go look for me.
I told him I’d had this crazy trip but couldn’t talk about it right away.
Then, I cried on his shoulder, and laughed, and then whimpered, and finally I drank some water and asked for a cigarette.
We smoked in silence, and he watched me as I fiddled with the lighter, flicking it on and off.
“I don’t even know how lighters work,” I moaned, which must have sounded wacky, striking the metal cog and holding the flame to my face.
Halimi chuckled and hugged me. “There are so many things you don’t know, my dear, it’s a wonder you survived at all,” he said, holding me close. We smoked some more; I sipped water.
“Did you speak to your mom? Is everything okay with Lily?” I asked, my eyes still closed. “How could I have spoken to her? You’ve got the phone,” he said.
“You’re right,” I said tiredly. “Let’s head home.”
He gave me the key to his apartment the morning of our fifth day together.
When I finally awoke on Saturday morning after our first date, Halimi was working on his laptop and talking on the phone.
I waved to him shyly from the hallway, about to stumble into the bathroom, and he gestured to me with one hand to come.
I signaled that I was going to brush my teeth, and he waggled his finger dismissively.
“Get over here,” his lips mouthed the words silently.
I walked over. Halimi continued his phone call, and I sat on his knee.
He immediately placed one hand on my right breast.
“Look, dude, there’s no way we can put it off until next month, he’ll go crazy,” Halimi said to the person on the other end. “It’s not that I mind pissing him off, but I’d also like to see it wrapped up,” he said, rubbing his nose against my shoulder.
I planted a kiss on his head and stood up.
“I need to pee,” I whispered in his free ear.
Halimi grabbed my hand and followed me, clutching the phone to his ear.
I closed the bathroom door in his face and sat down on the toilet seat with relief.
When I came out, he was still standing there, leaning against the wall, his phone call over.
“Coffee?” he asked, and when I nodded, he walked over to the tiny kitchen.
“I’ve got nothing to offer you to eat, what a disgrace,” he said.
“You’ll probably hate me now. Maybe I can rustle up some cornflakes. Shit, there’s no milk.”
When we went back to the living room, I said to Halimi, “Yesterday at the club, when you hugged me, I got the feeling that we’d met before, in another life.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “You were Cleopatra, and I was Caesar, right?”
“No, not like that,” I said, throwing a cornflake at him.
“I know it sounds dumb. It’s nothing, only I had these hallucinations—I saw us climbing up some mountain together, and …
” I tried to re-create the memory like a blurry dream.
“Maybe we also sat together on a couch with a blond child. Stuff like that. Kind of silly.”
“Not silly at all,” Halimi said quietly. He sat down next to me on the couch and embraced me. “It might be difficult to believe, but I’m actually a really romantic guy. I totally believe in love at first sight.”
I laughed and gave him a little shove. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” said Halimi in a hurt voice. “I swear to God.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. I didn’t want to ruin the vibe between us. I held out my hand and smiled at him. “So, we met in a previous life.”
We drank the rest of our coffee without speaking.
I smoked a cigarette, and then he did. Soft Brazilian music played from an Internet radio station on his computer.
Halimi hummed along to the music. The chirping of birds replaced the noise of cars from the street below.
An episode of Seinfeld blared out from the neighbors’ window.
The Sabbath serenity was absolute; I felt totally at home.
“It’s too good to be true, right?” I didn’t mean to bring him down, but I sensed an unexpected spark of panic in Halimi’s eyes.
“No, I didn’t mean …,” I continued, sipping my coffee carefully.
“It feels like something out of time, right?” I didn’t wait for a response but pushed on swiftly.
“Let’s act like tourists—on vacation in Tel Aviv for a few days. What do you say?” I looked up at him.
“I adore you,” Halimi said, holding out his arms to me. “Do you want to marry me?”
“Sure,” I said. “Now or after breakfast?”
Halimi loved the idea of a vacation and began planning our itinerary with the thoroughness of a seasoned tourist. He began rummaging through email invites he had received to various new restaurant and exhibition openings, suggesting places and quizzing me on my food preferences.
For a few days, we explored Tel Aviv as though we were visiting for the first time.
We went to restaurants and movies, walked through gardens, sunbathed at the beach, wandered around streets, and sat on park benches.
I smoked whatever I had on me, and he drank whiskey and smoked his Camels.
We made love constantly. Halimi was passionate about me to a degree that made me doubt his sincerity, but every time I expressed skepticism at his excessive compliments, he acted hurt.
I never made any declarations of love, but I clung to him as though he were mine alone.
I decided to go back to my place five days later.
I told him I had stuff to do, which was true—there were still a few adjustments to make to the translation I’d finished, and I had no clean clothes left to wear.
When I got out of his shower, Halimi was nowhere to be found.
I got dressed, wondering where he was. I texted him, “Where are you?” but he didn’t reply.
I packed my overnight bag and smoked a cigarette by the window, deliberating whether to write him a note before I left.
As I got off the couch, I heard the apartment door opening. I stood there, a little sheepish, my overnight bag by my side, a smoldering cigarette butt in the ashtray. Halimi pranced into the living room, holding a key between his fingers. “This is for you,” he crooned.
“What?” I asked.
“I had a key made for you,” he said and pounced on me, tossing my bag aside and pulling me onto the couch.
At about eleven that night, I insisted on going home.
“Are you coming back?” he asked me several times.
“Of course I am,” I told him. He walked me home but didn’t come in.
He was a little sullen, and as I began climbing the steps, I decided it was ridiculous for five beautiful days to end like this.
I walked back down. Halimi was still standing there, like he was waiting for me to enter my apartment before leaving.
“Limi, don’t be an idiot,” I said softly, embracing him. “I’m just going home for a little, and then I’ll come back, if you like.”
He held me close and said, “I’m going to kidnap you and never let you go.”
I laughed, and he patted me on my ass and said, “Yalla, good night, darling.”
Before I fell asleep, burrowed under my soft bedsheets, my thoughts wandered to the key he’d given me.
The very existence of that key, dropped into my little blue purse as though it were nothing, imbued me with a deep tranquility.
I imagined walking home on a rainy day and dropping in to see him, scampering up the steps to his apartment, removing the key from my purse, and letting myself in.
I could almost hear the rain coming down as I drifted off, even though I knew it was only water dripping on my windowsill from my upstairs neighbor’s AC.