“I don’t understand… you just said that your father drove all night to Athens, which clearly indicated that your mother didn’t join him on this trip. Who are you referring to exactly when you say ‘Mother?’”
Cupid pointed to Love, who seemed excited and, for a change, had dropped her cloak of complacency and cynicism.
“In other words, you naughty child, the defendant sitting over there is no other than your mother, not your employer, as you stated earlier in a mindless moment. When she came upon you one wintry night, you were a sobbing, helpless newborn. Her heart filled with pity for you. She took you in and raised you like a son. Have you no shame to come here today and tell us these ridiculous stories about an employer-employee relationship?”
Cupid, whose forehead was covered with beads of sweat fromthe heated exchange, was about to say something, but Heart didn’t give him a chance. “The relationship between you and her is not that of employer-employee, but rather—mother and son—a spoiled and very ungrateful son. A baby thrown to the gutter just because of his appearance and a woman with a huge heart who saved him from certain death.”
Cupid looked defeated. “And, furthermore…” Heart added with fury, “considering the fact that the relationship between the two of you is that of mother and son, and an insolent son at that, the money she gives you is not considered payment for your work, but is actually an allowance. And as such, this pocket money is not in any way renumeration for services rendered, hence any laws regarding wages, minimum or otherwise, do not apply and my client has not broken any law. Thank you. I have no further questions.”
Chapter Sixteen
“And they were both naked, the man and his wife,
and they felt no shame.”
Genesis, 2:25
Weissman wasn’t bothered by Yiftach taking the liberty to be absent from work now and then, both inside and outside the office. A brilliant attorney such as he—of course he was given free range. Since Yiftach’s activities created a gigantic storm and tore society in two, he was invited from time to time for interviews on popular talk shows both on TV and radio. On oppositional panels he was required to defend his principled stand in fierce debates, that Love must be held accountable for her crimes and prosecuted. He was brutally attacked and accused of poisoning humanity and civilization as we know it. Very quickly these harsh debates began to take place even without his presence. He received hate mail detailing every threat imaginable—from being tarred and feathered, to having his face mutilated and his skull crushed in, to wishing that his father would die a slow and painful death. Every few days, Yiftach would come out to his car, just to find that someone had punctured his tires. There were those who demanded that he be dismissed immediately from public service. He lost some of his old friends, however gained new ones—admirers who loved to listen to everything he had to say in such a learned way. These broken-hearted individuals felt that he expressed so eloquently what they had come to understand a long time ago, however, unlike them, he also knew how to counter his opponents with great courage.
For those who were proponents of love or had become addicted to it, he was ostracized, rejected and cursed, whereas among the victims of lost love, he was welcome, desired and applauded. Yiftach felt broken inside, yet he was also the happiest of men. He knew that those hooked on love wouldn’t let up until he was destroyed and buried. After all, he had turned them into a mockery and had slaughtered everything they believed in. He sometimes thought to himself that he’d be better off dead in any case. It was his depressive acceptance of death that led him to think also about the technical details—would Melody help his father prepare for the funeral? Who would be the pall-bearers? What would the eulogizers say? Such questions kept running through his mind. The closing argument of the defense was soon to begin, and he knew full well that mysterious plans were churning in the darkness of Attorney Heart’s sharp and shrewd mind.
“What exactly do you mean when you tell me that, in the end, it won’t work out?” Max sounded angry as always while talking with Yiftach on the phone, but this time it was justified. “How could you forget that we made plans to eat lunch together today?”
“I didn’t forget, Dad. It just turned out that today, because of the abnormal workload, it can’t be done. We’ll set a date for some time next week, I promise. Okay?”
“Why do I have a feeling that you’re hiding something from me?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course,” Yiftach answered, but Max was right. The lunch had totally slipped his mind when he and Melody decided to spend a vacation day together. He was sitting on Melody’s bed and, just then, she entered the room and asked him how he would like to spend the day.
“What was that?” Max asked.
“Nothing,” Yiftach feigned and signaled Melody to be silent.
“That was Melody, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Yiftach said, no longer able to hide the truth from his father.
“Excellent… it’s about time.”
Yiftach tried to cool his father’s enthusiasm. “Dad, don’t make a big deal out of this, okay?”
“Okay. But I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Does she make you happy?”
For a moment Yiftach was speechless. “Yes…” he finally said.
“Terrific. As I said—it’s about time. Have you already talked to her about coming over for dinner?”
“Not yet, but I promise I’ll ask her. Okay, Dad… have a good day.”
“What do you feel like doing today?” Melody asked Yiftach after he had ended the call.
