“Lily, I boughtEilat Weekly News– they’re writing about you,” I told her on Friday at noon when I got back from the base.
“About me?”
“About you, about Dan, and about Dylan Rhodes’s visit to the workshop.”
“Really? Will you read it to me?”
I opened the issue. Lily sat on my lap and hugged me.
“Last Friday, I visited the Art Workshop, run by Lily and Dan. The workshop hosted a lecture by Dylan Rhodes on American Pop Art. First, I was surprised by the number of people who came. The lecture was excellent in content and delivery. It’s heartening to see how two enthusiasts like Lily and Dan have built a ‘home’ and a corner for Eilat’s artists – and that it’s alive and working, with courses, lectures, and gatherings, without any of the ceremonials and budgets. Indeed, blessed be the initiative and the initiators. You’ve done something beautiful.” I read aloud.
When I raised my eyes from the paper, I saw tears of joy welling in hers.
“I don’t know if I’m crying or laughing.”
“You can do both, my girl – you’ve earned it.”
Dylan Rhodes’s success – and the Eilat public’s hunger for knowledge – gave Lily and Dan leverage to secure approval for more lecturers to come to Eilat, to their delight and ours.
Lily also enrolled at the College of Art and Design for the academic year beginning in October 1978.
We were already entering our third year. Lily only blossomed and flourished.
Not for a moment did I think to call the department head from New-Hope Medical Center.
Chapter 46
A Surprise Visit
In the summer months, Eilat emptied of its residents. Unlike the steady work in the army, the hospital, and the clinics, activity at the workshop went on break until after the holidays. I wanted to fulfill my promise that we’d travel to the United States for a real honeymoon.
“We’ll use the summer break at theCollege of Art and Designand the workshop and go to America,” I told Lily after confirming that I could take extended leave. One of the reservist doctors was eager to spend the summer in Eilat with his family, and the hospital director also agreed to let me go.
“Are you sure?”
“Remember, when we got married, I promised you a honeymoon in America?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Long ago, but I haven’t forgotten.”
That conversation planted the seed of the trip, and I left for base.
When I came home in the afternoon, Lily greeted me at the door.
“I ran into Judah in one of the malls – one of the doctors from the New-Hope Medical Center ward. He’s here on his honeymoon and was shocked to see me.”
I thought to myself that he must have calculated it had been nearly three years since he’d last seen her, and was surprised not only that she was alive but that she was flourishing.
“So, do you want to invite them over?”
“It would be nice. You’re supposed to start your residency there in about a year. Think about it.”
“You’re right. Maybe we should have them.”
Lily called the hotel.
Judah and his young wife, like many other guests who visited us, treated our apartment like a museum. It was impossible to ignore the paintings hanging on the walls. Lily had also begun experimenting with photography, distorting her body and face in ways that she arranged into series – sometimes in columns, sometimes in rows, sometimes a combination of several rows. Each picture differed from the others: the “normal” photo was always in the top right corner, and the most distorted one at the far opposite end.
