Chapter 39
Encounter with the First Home
“This is the last apartment on the fourth floor – or more precisely, the third and a half, since the building is built on a slope. Altogether, thirty-eight steps,” said Bill, one of National Housing Authority’s representatives in town.
When I heard that, even before going up, I realized there was no way we would live there.
Better not to waste his time. Fourth floor without an elevator?
I wasn’t going to live there. Period. At our place in Ramat Aviv, we had to climb about twenty-two steps; this would actually be a downgrade.
But Bill, an excellent salesman, managed to convince me that I should at least take a look.
There weren’t many such apartments in the city, and this was the last one left for essential workers.
“The location is excellent,” Amir had told me earlier at the hospital. “It’s between the hospital and your base.”
“The location is excellent,” Bill also said.
He knew I was a doctor, and the uniform and beret gave away my military affiliation.
He added that the apartment had a sea view, was close to the center, and had shops right downstairs.
After convincing me, we went up to the apartment.
Bill opened the door, and a breathtaking view of the Gulf of Eilat unfolded, stretching from Saudi Arabia to Jordan, from the airport to the Navy base.
Everything was visible from the window with stunning clarity. A jaw-dropping view.
“How much time do I have to decide?” I asked, pulling myself together.
“A week, and for Amir – two. Here’s the key.”
I was stunned that he trusted me.
“My wife will come down here at the end of next week, and we’ll decide together.”
“Fine with me. Keep the key.” He turned and left. That’s how it was in Eilat: everyone knew everyone, and everything was based on trust. A different world from the one I knew up north.
When I left the building, I walked down to the base. I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of taxis.
“My Lily, I saw an apartment,” I shared my impressions with her.
“How is it?”
“You’ve never seen a view like this in your life, and the rooms are big and full of light.” I knew what mattered to her.
“Can you see the sunrise?”
“If you wake up early enough.”
“Is it large?”
“Is there space to hang paintings?”
“Much more than what we have now.”
“I trust you – you can decide.” Only when she remembered she was also an economist did she ask if it was expensive. I told her we’d manage because the army supports its soldiers.
“I miss you.”
“Me too. It’s so hot here, my brain is drying out…”
“You’re always talking about the heat. I want to feel it for myself. And you! I’m counting the hours.”
“And I’m counting the minutes.”
In just two days, I had been exposed to countless new things, all coming at a dizzying pace: the Navy, the shipyard, patient line-ups, emergency plans, the hospital, diving, the pressure chamber, First Aid Lifeline, the “essential worker” designation, private practice permits – and now a potential apartment.
I had also met many people who, to my relief, were very willing to help.
“It’s really a different place!” I told Lily every time we spoke on the phone.
I knew that the stronger the foundation I built before Lily arrived, the easier it would be for us to make decisions together.
The encounter with the new city enchanted me.
Even its rhythm suited me at this stage.
It was the opposite of the rumors spread in the north, that the sun and the heat dried out the brains of the locals and slowed everything down.
Only Lily was missing. She wasn’t there for my first steps in the city.
I regretted it, but I also realized I had spared her a lot of running around, making things easier for her.
I knew that if I wanted to see her, I would have to be patient until the end of the week.
There was no sign in the air of what was about to happen.
What heat!!!