Pressure Chamber, page 33
Lee returns with another chair and sits down next to them. “So you come to visit only at night?” she asks.
“Work,” Anna responds.
“A lot of work,” Rotem says.
“I’m incapable of being anywhere else,” Lee admits.
Anna hands her a Mozart praline. “Here. This one is the best.”
Lee smiles.
The three of them remain in the dimly lit room, sitting and talking, Daphne lying beside them, her face soft and serene.
92.
An empty classroom. Green Formica tables. School chairs. The two of us are sitting there in our school uniforms watching the blackboard fill itself unaided with words in white chalk. I realize they’re pairs of letters that designate the names of elements in the Periodic Table.
I say, “Can I call you Makoto? I know you’re me; it’s just that it’ll be easier for me like that.”
“My name is Anna. Anna-Sophia.”
We’re sitting in a boat on a deep, wide river. The water is clear and I can see orange fish swimming. The river flows and I can hear the calls of parrots from the treetops along its banks.
“Anna?”
She laughs. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter what you call me. Makoto is fine too, just as long as you know who we are.”
“Where are we?”
“In between.”
* * *
“She knew she’d find you.” Nathan and Lee are sitting in the hospital room, single-use cups filled with instant coffee in their hands. The shutters are almost fully closed, and the sun’s rays draw lines of light from the cracks to the bed.
The flowers have changed, the chocolates have changed; the only constant is Daphne.
Lee answers, “How?”
“She wouldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t brush the case aside and off her agenda even though we’d already been assigned to other crime scenes. Even during the months in which the investigation was going nowhere, you were always on her desk. Your photograph sat in front of her all the time. She swore she’d find you.”
“And the babies.”
“Yes.” Nathan sips his espresso and swallows hard. Hospital coffee. “But she was so persistent because of you. Not them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know the whole story, only fragments. I know that she was abused as a child. I think she was left locked up for some of the time. She relived it all over again through you. Through your case.”
Lee places her cup on the shelf that serves as a food tray for the patients and stands up to straighten the blanket, wrapping it snugly around Daphne. She strokes her cheek and studies the very familiar medical equipment. Saturation – normal. Pulse – normal. She looks at the liquid trickling and dripping from the IV bag, the standard 0.9 percent saline solution. Everything is as it should be. But she won’t wake up.
Lee needs to know that everything is running smoothly, that Daphne is being well cared for. She’s used to going between patients during her shifts, but she’s part of the story this time. She leans over Daphne again, gazing at her peaceful face. An electronic buzz sounds from the IV machine, indicating that it’s time to replace the bag.
“She’s strong,” Nathan says, watching her. “She’ll pull through.”
* * *
A glass of orange juice drops onto a white marble floor and shatters. Fragments of glass and yellow shrapnel disperse through the air in slow motion, and splashes of juice wet our legs. A tall concrete dam is blocking a river. An empty gray boat is anchored in the middle of the lake. We’re standing on the dam wall and looking at it. She takes my hand in hers. The dull toll of a bell sounds faintly in the distance.
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
The two of us are standing in an antique store and looking at a semi-decomposed snake in an old jar of formaldehyde. Outside, a piece of newspaper swirls in the wind in the parking lot, gets caught against a pole, sticks to it and stops. In the restaurant across the road, a man and woman are sitting in silence on either side of an empty table. The light above them flickers and burns out. Three silver candlesticks stand on a dusty shelf behind us.
“Want to go on a journey?” Makoto motions towards the store door.
“Only if it has a timeframe.”
* * *
They walk in together, holding hands.
“She’s so pretty.” The woman slips the bouquet they brought into the vase next to the bed, adding red roses to the cluster of orange marigolds.
“Shhhh.” The man puts a finger to his lips and nods towards the armchair bed against the wall under the window. Lee is lying there, sleeping, a thin hospital blanket draped over her. The ward is empty at night, outside visiting hours, but the nurse agreed to allow them in as long as they were quiet and didn’t wake anyone.
“She doesn’t leave her side – Lee,” the woman whispers.
“Should we wake her?” he asks.
“No way. Let her sleep. We’ll see her next week. She’s been through so much as it is. I think her way of dealing with it all is by taking care of others.”
They stand at Daphne’s bedside in silence for several minutes, holding hands and looking at her. Before they leave, the man takes an envelope out of his coat pocket and places it alongside the vase.
* * *
I’m three years old. The candles on my cake burn, then flicker and go out. Birthday hats made from cut up boxes lie scattered on the floor. The party is over and only the two of us are still here. My friend, Makoto, and I. On the table are plates of leftover chocolate cake.
“Why a timeframe? There are no restrictions here.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
We’re eleven years old, standing on a hill, next to a rotating wind turbine. The shadows of its large blades move over the ground. We hear the sound of them slicing through the air. A column of ants winds its way along the ground below us, carrying a huge green leaf. Hundreds of wind turbines twirl on the hilltops all around us.
“I can’t be drawn into your world. I need my world too.”
“It’s more fun here with me.”
We’re eight years old, sitting on an old wooden bench. A mass is being held in the huge church. The voices of the choir and the sound of the organ envelop us. Thousands of white candles are burning in translucent red-glass holders on long tables, their flames dancing. Colorful rays stream in through the large stained-glass windows, slicing through the dust floating in the air.
“I know, but that’s my decision. You know it’s my decision. You are me.”
An old woman on the bench next to us leans over. “Shhh, girls, no talking now. It’s bothering me.”
Around us are stretches of grass and a forest in the distance. We’re standing exactly where the cabin used to be, where the predator tortured and killed me anew each time. Flying through the air here now are blue-yellow-purple butterflies.
“If you don’t agree, I’ll have to stop dreaming. Or in other words, stop remembering my dreams and going back to the way things were. I don’t want to. It’ll be very difficult for me. And terribly sad.”
Am I crying?
I do a reality check to make sure I’m still dreaming. Everything seems so real.
She offers me her hand and we walk towards the forest.
We enter the forest and the trees block out the sun. A mist rises off the ground and reaches as far as our knees, hiding the earth. It looks like we’re floating on a cloud. She stops and turns to me. She smiles.
* * *
There are no words strong enough to express our gratitude towards you. Lee told us everything that happened, all you did to rescue them. You’re the bravest person we know, and were it not for you, our son would no longer be with us. We love you. If you are reading this now, that means you have woken up… Call. We will always be here for you. Ruthie, Yonatan and Yoavi Heller.
On the back of the note is a telephone number. Lee slips the piece of paper into the envelope again, places it on the shelf and wipes her eyes. She didn’t think she would miss the babies so much. But they’d become a part of her, and it was so hard to say goodbye to them. She folds her sheet and blanket and returns the armchair to its upright position.
She has a quick look at Daphne’s vital signs. No change. Yawning, she goes over to the metal cabinet against the wall to get her toothbrush and toothpaste. She opens the cabinet and finds a large carrier bag inside, attached to which is a note with a drawing of a red heart and the words: We thought you might need these. Inside the bag are sweatpants, shirts, socks, slippers, shampoo, conditioner and another bag filled with snacks.
* * *
“Okay,” Makoto says.
“So you agree?”
“Yes. And we’ll continue to meet.”
“Awesome!”
Rays of sunshine find their way through the branches of the tall trees, adding color to the mist at our feet.
“And I’m very sorry,” she says.
“For what?”
“For driving you crazy earlier. For lying to you. I was trying to lure you into being with me. I shouldn’t have done that. I wanted you to stay with me only, and that was selfish. I hope you forgive me.”
“I forgive you.”
She moves closer to me until our noses touch and tickle one another, and we both start to laugh.
“Want to go on a journey?”
“Yes.”
I’m in.
A warm wind. Salt. Sand. The sound of small waves washing over and shifting seashells on the beach. Sunshine.
I feel so good.
I’m on the beach in Eilat or the Sinai, naked.
Reality check.
I pick up a shell and throw it into the air. It hovers above my head.
I’m dreaming.
I walk across the hot sand. Tracy Chapman’s ‘Talkin’ Bout a Revolution’ is playing in the background. I imagine a big circus tent and it appears in front of me, the waves washing up to its entrance. I go in. Inside there’s a circus ring and above it a trapeze rig. There aren’t any spectators.
I climb the ladder dressed like an acrobat and grab hold of the swing’s horizontal bar. I hang on it and swing, before letting go suddenly and falling. The circus ring below races up to meet me and turns into a huge trampoline. I keep bouncing higher and higher and almost reach the roof of the tent. It’s fun.
“Haven’t you had enough?”
“Hi, Mia!”
She’s sitting in one of the audience seats watching me. I leap high and land in the chair next to her.
“You haven’t dreamed of me in ages,” she says. “I was starting to miss you.”
I stroke her cheek. “What’s up with you?”
“Same old, you know. Studies, studies, and not much time for myself.”
My little sister is already in her first year at university. Time flies by so fast.
“Are you happy?” I ask her.
“I think so,” she smiles.
“I’m happy. It’s very important to be happy. Do you need anything? Help with your studies, a place to live?”
“Thanks, Daph, I’m doing just fine.”
I hug her.
“See you again next week. I have to see what happened to the babies.”
* * *
“You have no idea how much I miss you.”
Anna is doing her best not to cry. The large bandage on Daphne’s head has been replaced by a gauze dressing that’s held in place over the sutures with strips of surgical tape. Anna leans over and kisses her on the forehead.
“She’s going to be like Harry Potter. The exact same scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on her forehead,” Lee says, in an effort to cheer Anna up. She doesn’t say anything about the other scars she’s seen while taking care of her. She wonders if Anna is aware of them, but some questions are better left unasked.
Anna sits down on the side of the bed and caresses Daphne’s face. “How much longer is she going to be like this? When’s she going to wake up?”
“She’ll be okay.” Lee genuinely believes so. “There’s no reason why she shouldn’t wake up. Her brain activity is normal. The MRI they did came out fine. No cerebral contusions. She’s suffered a trauma and needs time to recover.”
“I miss her.”
Lee smiles. “And I’m waiting to meet her. We didn’t even get a chance to talk before he launched himself at her.”
“I can fill in for you if you like. Don’t you want to get out of here for a while?”
“I’m here until she wakes up,” Lee insists, “but thanks for the offer. The only time I leave her is when I meet with the babies’ families. They set up a room here for us to get together. Want a cookie? They keep handing out treats on the ward.”
“I have something better,” Anna smiles. “Open the window. We’ll have a little smoke.”
* * *
She gives me a kiss, gets up and leaves. I imagine a gate. The Forensics lab is on the other side of it, and I walk through it dressed in jeans and a colorful sweater. It’s night, and there’s no one here. I wander around in the dark among the evidence shelves, the microscope tables, the deserted computer stations.
I want to give Mia one last hug before I continue with this dream.
I summon a gate back to the beach but find myself in Tokyo, with a joint in my hand, wearing a black dress and black pantyhose. My hair is purple and my lipstick is black. I look at my hands. They’re covered in tattoos. Some in Japanese and some in languages I don’t recognize. I take hold of the hand of my boyfriend who’s standing on the sidewalk next to me, and we watch the pictures change on the huge digital signs on the facades of the skyscrapers. I take a drag on the joint and we kiss.
he asks.
I glance at the screen of my phone. “Two-thirty in the morning.”
“I don’t want to go home. I feel like wandering around outside some more. I’m having fun. It feels good.”
I summon a gate that will take me back to a happy place, with lots of sun, sand and water, but find myself on HaNevi’im Street, outside the building where I live with Anna. Naked again. I lie down in a yard across from the building and look at it, the grass tickles my back. Through the walls, I can see what’s happening in all the apartments. Almost everyone’s asleep. Anna’s lying down reading a book, a steaming mug of coffee on the dresser next to her bed. I stare at the sky above me for a good hour. The stars form themselves into sparkling images, the last of which is the smiling face of a fairy.
I’m safe and protected.
* * *
“I look like something the cat dragged in. Do you mind staying here for a bit while I shower?”
“No problem,” Nathan says, leaning back in the armchair, “I’ll keep an eye on our Sleeping Beauty in the meantime.”
Lee grabs a towel and goes into the room’s shower cubicle, and Nathan gets up to take a close look at Daphne. “Daph.” He touches her shoulder. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I hope you can. That was the dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your life.” He waits, but she doesn’t move. He starts to cry. “Who do you think you are? You and that imaginary friend of yours. Walking into his trap like two fools. It should never have happened, you hear me? The moment you wake up, I’m firing you. You can be sure of that.” There are more things he wants to say, but he isn’t able to. “Stay with me,” he simply whispers, and he sits back down in the armchair just as the nurse walks into the room.
“Family?”
“Sort of,” he responds.
“Where’s Lee?”
“Showering.”
The nurse has a quick look at the readings on the instruments and records something on the form hanging at the foot of the bed. “Everything’s fine,” she says. “Tell Lee to come by the nurses’ station, okay?”
“Okay.”
93.
Rotem waits patiently for the ritual to run its course.
“Cup of tea?”
“No, thanks, I’m not ill.”
He always offers. And she always declines.
They’re sitting at the small round table in the corner of his office. “We’re going to need a series of profiles,” Grandpa says, pouring a measure of dark tea from a flask into a thick glass mug.
“Of whom?”
“Senior executives at airports in Europe. Whatever you can get from the Net and open sources. Standard profiles. Weak spots, skeletons in the closet, phobias, something that can crack them. Start with Schiphol, Heathrow, de Gaulle, Frankfurt, Suárez. We’ll move ahead based on whatever we can use to our benefit from those. If you need help getting into their Facebook or Gmail accounts, speak to Control.”
“I’ll assign someone good to it.”
He sips from his mug and peers at Rotem through the steam. “How are things going? All good?”
“Everything’s fine,” she confirms.
“How’s your friend?”
“Still in a coma. I’ll be visiting again this evening.”
Grandpa frowns and sips from his tee. “You shouldn’t have gone in there on your own. You had a team ready no more than a minute behind you. You should have signaled them to join you.”
“And they would have dragged me to their car, driven me here and called the police along the way. You and I didn’t meet just yesterday.”
He sighs. “That last time you were hurt was enough for me. If Carmit hadn’t been there to treat you, we wouldn’t be talking now. You’re not a field agent, Rotem. You’re a lot more than that. I don’t have to spell out the value you bring to the Organization. You’re putting yourself at risk unnecessarily just to satisfy some inner need for thrills.”
She shakes her head, not daring to interrupt him but tired of hearing the same speech over and over again.
“Stop placing yourself in the line of fire. There are others of less significance who will do so better than you.”
“Okay.” She folds her arms across her chest, raises her eyebrows and fixes him with a long stare.
He starts to laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s why I’m here. Anything else?”
“That’s all for now.”
