Disappearance (4 page)

She closed her eyes again.  A tear slid down her face as she turned away from him.  Mikki felt disappointment strike the pit of his stomach.  He wasn't ready for this.  He wasn't ready to deal on such level; not four months away from losing his freedom.

Karen almost read his mind.

"Sorry," she said with her back to him, "I didn't mean to ruin the night. Maybe someday I'll figure it out."

She turned, neglecting to elaborate on what it was she needed to figure out.  She was smiling again. "Let's go back to my room. I'll make you a hot cup of coffee and send you off to sleep. We both need to get up real early tomorrow."

Swift mood changes threw him off.  Confused, he walked quietly by her side through the kibbutz's unlit pathways back to the Volunteer House.  The night didn't turn out the way he had planned.

Nothing ever did.

CHAPTER 2

The alarm went off.

Mikki heard it but did not move.   It seemed to be coming from a distant planet. He tried to avoid it but it wouldn't stop. He finally reached up, blindly searching for the shelf over his bed in an effort to put an end to the miserable noise.  Then he found the old alarm clock and slammed the button down, killing the racket.

It was quiet again.  He opened his eyes and sat up looking out the window.  It was
pitch dark.  He found the switch, turned on the small lamp next to his bed and looked at the clock.  It was 4:00 AM.   Then it hit him: Chicken loading time! The most despised jobs of all.

Every male, age seventeen and older, was expected to perform it at least once a month during chicken loading season.  There was no getting off and the kibbutz's personnel director made sure everyone got his fair share.   No excuses were accepted and if one was to miss too many chicken loading shifts, one would be blacklisted.

It was indeed a loathsome job.  A shift of about twenty, barely awake kibbutz members, would gather in the huge chicken hangars at the kibbutz's industrial zone, always before sunrise when the chickens could be kept in the dark and scarcely moving, making them an easier target to catch.    A huge semi-trailer truck, filled with empty, metal screen cages, would pull up and park along the elevated ramps that led into the chicken house.  A few of the men would unload the empty cages and line them up on the ramp next to the truck.  The rest would enter the dark and smelly chicken quarters and begin chasing chickens.  He would need to feel his way in the dark hall and get real close to ground level to try and catch as many chicken legs as possible.  An accepted minimum was three in each hand.  The stronger and more experienced could catch as many as five.  Once he managed to trap a half a dozen or so chickens, he would carry them screaming and scratching to the ramps outside and stuff them inside the metal cages to be loaded back onto the truck.  By the time the truck was fully loaded and ready to go, the chicken chasers looked like the chickens themselves with feathers and dust to spare.   The ordeal would normally last an hour unless another truck showed up. One could only pray it would not.

Mikki got up, brushed his teeth and stuck his head in the running water under the faucet.  He would shower once he got back.  He put on his filthiest shirt and dirtiest pants, threw on an old army jacket and slid into a torn pair of sneakers; no socks.  It was 4:15 AM when he left his room. He had fifteen minutes.

For a moment, he stood outside his room absorbing the cool spring air.  He loved to see the day take shape able to watch the sun rise to the east over the Golan Heights.  Walking silently in the dark, he thought of Karen.  There hadn't been a day since their first meeting that he hadn't thought of her.  In the three weeks that had passed since her arrival they would meet on occasion throughout the day, but always with people around. They would exchange the customary pleasantries but rarely go beyond that.   He would ask her for her daily plans, hoping she could fit him in  but  she  would never commit; always random rushing about. He was afraid the chance for a meaningful relationship was slipping away.

The volunteers were invariably awarded those service jobs greatly disliked by kibbutz members. Karen worked the early dining hall shift.  She would start early, at five in the morning, helping to prepare breakfast and lunch.  The dining hall job meant preparing the food, setting the tables, washing the dishes, constantly having to obey commands from kibbutz members.  The volunteers were expected to work only six hours a day, so Karen would get off at eleven and have the rest of the day to
herself.

School was out, for all practical purposes.  Graduation would take place at the end of May and Mikki had no regularly scheduled classes other than the scheduled final exams.   He would spend half the day working in the kibbutz's factory manufacturing tire molds and the rest studying for the exams. The factory had its own little dining
hall  which  served breakfast to the factory workers but these days Mikki found a host of excuses to go to the main hall so he could meet Karen. He would sit with his buddies at the breakfast table, nibbling at his food, half listening to the conversation, and very alertly watching her go about her work.

She would light up the place with her beautiful smile, he observed, watching her gracefully move about, chatting cheerfully with the many friends she had made in the short period of time she had been there.  Beautiful women quickly became popular, he thought, feeling pain in his stomach any time she would stop and talk to any of the men.  He knew she could have any one of them if she so desired, married or not. They were all drooling over her as she moved from one table to the next, obviously enjoying the attention.
He couldn't stand it.  He recalled their first night together, thinking it was impossible to figure what turned women off.  The harder he tried, the less he was appreciated.

It was his own fault, he thought,
as  the  stench from  the chicken hangars hit his nostrils.  The jerks did seem to have more success, he muttered to himself in frustration, then decided  he  needed  to  see  her  right  after  chicken  loading, dusty, smelly and all.

He shivered as he saw the huge semi-trailer parked next to the chicken house.  Shlomo met him at the entrance. 

"What's the good word, Mikki?" he asked, too cheerful for such an early hour, steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"Any more of those left?"  Mikki asked, referring to the coffee.

"Better get two of them Mikki, we got two trucks today!"

"What are you so cheerful about?"

"I  didn't  get  any  sleep  last  night,"  Shlomo  said  with  a mischievous grin, hurrying after him into the chicken house offices where everyone gathered.

"You must be tired then."

"Very tired, Mikki, very, very tired…"

Mikki poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around.  The shift had more people than usual.  An extra truck it was.  He estimated it would take an hour and a half to complete.  He tried to avoid asking Shlomo the question, but knew it was pointless.  Shlomo would not be denied boasting of a rare sexual encounter.

"Did you score last night?" he asked impartially.

Shlomo looked at him with a triumphant smile. Mikki froze. A terrifying thought crossed his mind.

"It wasn't Karen, was it?" he asked, his voice threatening.

"I wish…," Shlomo replied with a sigh.

Mikki relaxed.  He had often seen Shlomo and Ronni around Karen and her friends.  They were young, energetic, carefree, and many thousands of miles from home.   No telling what they would do.

"Who was it then?"

"Karen's friend, Connie!"

Mikki lost interest.  "How was she?" he asked, hoping to get it over with.

"She's into some weird stuff," Shlomo flaunted.

Mikki didn't want to hear the rest of it but he suddenly had a thought. "Did she mention anything about Karen and me?"

"What do you wanna know?"

"Anything Shlomo, I can't get close to her.  I think she is avoiding me."

He sounded more desperate than he wanted to, knowing Shlomo would jump at the opportunity to gain something or ridicule him, but at that point he no longer cared.  Luckily Shlomo was too cheerful to notice.

"According to Connie, Karen feels you are the one avoiding her!" he enthusiastically informed Mikki.

So there was still hope! Mikki suddenly realized, a burst of new energy rushing through his body.   The chicken loading shift flew by.  He worked like a machine, stuffing one load of chickens after another without letting up and before the last of the metal cages slammed shut over the final batch of the condemned birds, he was briskly on his way up the hill toward the main dining hall.

He found her in the kitchen, sitting on a wooden stool with a group of semi-retired ladies, peeling onions.  The ladies were gossiping among themselves in Hebrew.  The only Hebrew Karen ever learned was at a Woodland Hills Hebrew school, back in the sixth grade.  She could pick up a few words but not enough to follow the conversation.  She was staring at the pile of onions in front of her, when Mikki walked in.

"Good morn…" he started to say and was instantly cut off.

"Well if it isn't young Abe Dotan.  You look and smell almost like the way I feel each morning," said one of the old ladies in Hebrew and the rest joined her in laughter.

"This is no way to approach the young lady Mikki," said another to the sound of more laughter.  Mikki felt his face flush. He was taken by surprise and was about to fire some degrading-old-lady remark, when Karen spoke.

"Rough morning, Mikki?" she gently asked.

"Not as rough as I am about to get with these old witches," he grunted in English.

"Calm down Mikki. They're harmless."

Mikki strained to stay calm.   He gave the old ladies a threatening stare and addressed Karen.  "Could we step outside for a moment, I need to talk to you."

Karen got up.

"Let's make it a very long moment," she said, squinting her eyes toward the pile of onions.

He got the message.

"I need her for a few minutes," he said, addressing the group in Hebrew.

"She is not done with her onions!" protested the group leader.

"Listen," Mikki snapped, "this is a serious matter.  We need to get to the secretary's office."

"At six in the morning?"

They were silent for a moment, staring at one another.

He put on a disturbed look and spoke very softly.  They all leaned closer. 

"Ladies, her sister called from America asking to speak to her urgently. I have no idea what this about but it sounds serious!  She'll be back in a few minutes."

They were all suddenly silent, looking at one another.

Mikki seized the moment.  He grabbed Karen's arm and they both disappeared through the back door before the ladies could recover.

"What did you tell them?"   Karen asked as they were stumbling out. "They seemed to go into shock."

"Oh, I gave them a few ideas to gossip about."

"What ideas?" she asked, giggling.

"Oh, I told them your sister called from the US asking to talk to you urgently."

"You what!"

"Not to worry, the story will keep them speculating long enough to finish peeling the damn onions."

Karen giggled.

"By the time lunch comes around," Mikki explained, "they’ll have developed a host of theories…"

"But Lisa didn't really call…"

"It doesn't matter, Karen.  Once these ladies get their hands on a story, it snowballs from them to everyone else.  Each person gives the basic version with a little twist and by the time it goes back full circle, you may hear that you are on a plane back home."

Karen had to lean against the wall to keep from falling, laughing lightheartedly.

Mikki was enjoying the moment.   He was happy he could make her laugh.  He watched her as she calmed down.  Even in simple work clothes she was beautiful.

He felt it was the right moment. "I miss you," he said simply.

She quickly sobered up.  They were standing outside the main kitchen at the crest of the hill facing east, the entire kibbutz below them.  From their vantage point they could see the sun rise over the Golan Heights.  It was creeping its way up seemingly caressing the mountain range. She looked at him.

"Why did you wait so long?" she asked.

"I thought you weren't interested. I thought something turned you off that night," he professed, the words gushing out, relieving the pressure he felt for so long.  "Over the last three weeks I wanted to tell you so many things…"

He felt uneasy again and tried to avoid her gaze, staring down at the floor.  She moved away from the wall and stood closer to him.

"Mikki," she spoke in a sweet, low voice, almost a whisper. He looked up.  "I keep waiting for you to show up but you seem so distant, always hanging around with your buddies.  It's as though you keep them around for protection."

"Karen I swear to you, the only thing on my mind since that night was when
are we gonna do it again…"

"Do what again?" She grinned.

"Um... ah, talk of course.  That's all we did, wasn’t it?  Did I miss something?"

She was laughing again, enjoying his discomfort.

"I think we missed a lot in the last three weeks," she said, serious again.

Mikki felt elated.  He wanted to seize her, hug her, kiss her, and love her.  Instead, he let out a sigh and smiled.

"Would you join me and my family for dinner tonight?" he asked.

"I'd love that, Mikki."

"Would you like me to come pick you up?"

"No need.  Let's meet here.  At what time do you normally eat?"

"Seven o'clock sharp or my dad will flip!"

"What should I wear?" she asked, a smile forming on her lips.