“I’ll pick you up from my place at seven sharp.”
“What’s with the map and the pencil? Is there a war?”
“I think so – and this time, I’m shooting first.”
“At whom?”
“C’mon, man, stop asking questions. I’m not sure I’ve got answers.”By six thirty, I was already waiting. The front door was, as always, unlocked. Every visitor, even the first timers, felt at home there. I walked in. Only his mom was in the kitchen. She was one of the most colorful women I knew. You could talk to her about family, politics, arak, or poker – a game she especially loved.As we chatted, I debated whether to tell her about my “brilliant” plan. A mother of ten, she’d definitely have wise advice – but maybe also the advice I didn’t want to hear: to let the whole thing go. And I wasn’t ready for that. So I kept the conversation light.Max showed up at a quarter to seven.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked eagerly.
“We’re going to Savyon to look for a Peugeot 504.”
“Whose? What color? What’s the number?”
“Some girl I met today. I fell for her, but she’s got a boyfriend. The car’s white, and the last three digits on the plate are 567.” Only after I said the words “I fell for her” did I realize the seed of love had already been planted.
“Whoa – you’re in love?”
“I think so.”
“But she’s got a boyfriend.”
“I know. That only makes it more of a challenge.”
“And her?”
“I haven’t asked yet.”
“Did you set something up with her?”
“No, but we’ll find her,” I said with confidence.I had no idea what time she was supposed to be in Savyon, or even where. Sure, Savyon isn’t that big, but the odds were stacked againstme. Max spread the map open. I was stunned – he’d gotten it, plus an aerial photo, from a relative in military intelligence, scale 1:10,000. You could practically see the flowers in every yard, maybe even smell them. I knew I could count on him.Slowly, the tension eased. Together, we marked a winding route that would cover all the streets. We figured we could cover the whole town in about thirty minutes.
“We start now and drive around till ten,” I declared in my best veteran-officer tone.
“Are you nuts? Three hours?!” He looked at me in horror.
“You know what? We’ll do five or six loops. If we find her – it means God’s with me. If not, He’s with her boyfriend,” I said, brushing off his protest.We climbed into my dad’s blue Ford. He drove; I navigated. By 7:15, we were at the roundabout at the entrance to town.
We started circling the neighborhood as night fell, groping our way through the darkness. Here and there, we passed pedestrians, but we couldn’t ask anyone anything. What were we supposed to say? Have you seen a white Peugeot 504 driven by a beautiful girl with green eyes?Around eight o’clock, we found ourselves back at the roundabout. No sign of the white Peugeot ending in 567.
“Maybe she hasn’t arrived yet?” Max wondered aloud. To my relief, he was already caught up in the mission.
“Or maybe she already left?” I voiced my own hidden fear, then quickly suggested another plan to push it aside.
“Let’s do another round – and this time we’ll hit the cul-de-sacs too.” Nothing changed, except the disappointment and despair that began to gnaw at me. Another half hour slipped by.We stopped at the neighborhood center for a soda.
“Look,” Max suddenly pointed to a white 504 gliding slowly through the roundabout.
“Let’s go!” We leapt back into the Ford and tailed it.
As we got closer, I saw the plate was different. We turned back, frustrated.
“Let’s try the other direction,” I suggested, hoping a change of luck might help.
“Let’s do it!”We drove down the main boulevard. To my surprise, about five hundred meters from the center, I spotted a 504 parked in front of a house.
“Stop!” I jumped out, knees shaking, and approached the car. There it was – 567. I touched the hood. Cold.
