Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 56 of a new online serial novel, Outside the Bubble, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters.
Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications.
She spent the morning doing lots of nothing, and she didn’t fight it. Because it wasn’t really idleness. The thoughts and emotions and the whole mess enveloping her right now—inside and out—were actually a whirling activity that tired her out much more than, say, making lunch.
Hinda wandered around the house. She walked into Yosef’s empty room. He hadn’t called today, and when she dialed his cell phone it went straight to the voicemail. She wasn’t surprised. He didn’t particularly like his phone, and preferred to use it only for emergencies.
She had no idea what Dov had eaten for breakfast. If he had eaten. Was there any salad left from what Dov had prepared last night? She hadn’t bothered to check. She didn’t eat.
She needed to eat, she knew, and soon, she’d get a hold of herself and force some food into her mouth, but for the meantime, she allowed herself to fall apart a little bit.
Hinda pushed shirts into the washing machine and then stopped in the middle, without turning it on. She should have been calmer now that Yosef was in good hands. Here, at home, there was nothing for her to do for him, after two weeks of deterioration, which had caused her heart to beat at an insane pace. She hadn’t dared leave the house all that time. She’d been afraid to leave him alone, and as far as she was concerned, leaving him with Dov was also called leaving him alone.
When Dov came home, she was in the middle of doing nothing. She thanked him wordlessly for buying takeout for lunch, and didn’t even murmur apologies when she left the kitchen and went into their bedroom, leaving him to set the table for himself and Martin. In recent weeks, their life seemed to have settled into a fixed ritual, where Martin slept in the neighbor’s studio apartment and managed on his own for breakfast and supper, while coming down to them for lunch.
She had no idea how he spent his days. Sometimes, Dov told her, Martin joined him in the office, but most days, he preferred to stay back in his studio apartment. Dov said that the boy was avoiding any conversation about his future and his plans, and that he had no idea how Martin spent the long hours alone. He said he read a lot, but didn’t offer any details.
Now, he arrived to eat, and Dov hosted him with his regular good cheer. They chatted in hushed voices, and Hinda wanted to call to Dov and tell him that they could speak normally, because she wouldn’t be able to sleep right now anyway. But she just climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. Chani was with Yosef now, so everything was probably fine. Earlier, she’d called for a minute, and said that she just wanted to reassure Hinda that everything seemed to be good. She was brief, apparently not wanting to speak in front of Yosef, but it hadn’t calmed Hinda at all.
Someone was at the door. Hinda didn’t move. She suddenly felt so weak, and for some reason, that made her laugh. She wasn’t allowed to fall, even if Dov was here. Yosef needed her. The children needed her. Maybe Dov also did, and perhaps even his Penina, a bit. They all needed her, but sometimes, she just had no strength left for anyone.
She heard Dov going to the door. He exchanged a few words with someone; the tones rose for a moment and then dropped.
Hinda didn’t get up; she decided that things would work out just find without her, and if not—Dov could always call her. In her mind, there was nothing more concerning than Yosef, lying like a wrung-out dusty rag in a ward at Tirat Hacarmel. Now she heard the door to the house close, but the conversation continued. Who was the guest? Had Dov brought him into the house?
She closed her eyes.
“I didn’t have extra time to go out and search for him,” the stranger said, in a forgiving tone. “And the truth is that personally, I’d rather believe him, especially after these past two weeks. What, Martin?”
She heard Martin say something in response.
“He’s a great guy,” her husband said. “I have no idea what the problem is with him.”
“Right now there is no problem with him,” the man said. “But if he doesn’t honor the deportation order out against him, he’ll get into big trouble.”
Martin muttered something.
“What did you think? That we’d let you disappear that way from Yerushalayim to Haifa?” He laughed. “You’re very easy prey for my people, Martin.”
“He never meant to run away all that seriously,” Dov said. “And that’s actually because he’s so one hundred percent okay. In recent days, we’ve been trying to think of who can speak on his behalf and explain that he really is just an innocent teen.”
“Today, I agree with you.” The guest smiled; you could hear it in his voice. “But just like two months and three months ago he was different, tomorrow he could also be different. Martin Posner is a very sweet boy—he just has many vicissitudes.”
Vicissitudes? Deportation order? Hinda suddenly found herself getting up and walking to the bedroom door, crossing the small hallway leading to the dining room. The speaker was standing at the door, with Dov facing him. Martin was standing next to the kitchen door, about ten feet away.
“I think that you are mistaken,” Dov protested. “Firstly, he has such a good heart. And he is not as tumultuous as you make him sound. Maybe you could better define him as ‘looking for his way.’ With a bit of guidance, he’ll grow up wonderfully—I’m sure of it.”
“If so, it’s too bad he didn’t come to you half a year ago, for that guidance,” the man said. Hinda didn’t know if he was being cynical or serious. “Now it’s too late. Come, let’s do this without any extra fanfare. Martin Posner, in absentia, the court ruled that you are to be deported from Israel due to a threat to its welfare, and you must act upon the order within three weeks, at most. Here is the order.”
“Three weeks,” Martin echoed tonelessly.
“Exactly. And after all your previous disappearances, we actually are giving you quite a lot of credit that you will do it, and we’re not sending a team here to take you into detention, and from there, directly to the plane.”
“Really, you’re overdoing it!” Dov exclaimed. “A threat to the welfare of the Land?! Him?!”
“It’s true that lately, he’s been sending lots of emails from fabricated addresses with anti-rightwing messages, but his history is stronger than any fake email.”
“Why?”
The man chuckled. “He’ll tell you himself,” he said. “He’ll tell you how he drove violently during demonstrations, and was accused seven times of disobedience and violence against police officers. He participated in price tag activities, and caused heavy damage to property. And yes, he was also accused of attempted murder by ramming.”
Martin bristled. “That part is not true!” “Even all the other things that I mentioned are enough to send a cute Canadian citizen out of the country, for not realizing how guests are expected to behave when they are in their host’s place. Good luck, and don’t try to disappear again anywhere in our little country, Posner. It will be a lot less pleasant.”
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