Against the Wind

By Jeremiah Shlomi

Against of wind, it is a novel based on real events, mixed with fantasy, which addresses one of the most widespread current themes such as reincarnation, as an alternative response to the personal search for spiritual development to the question where we come from, because we are here and where we are going as a human race. His real characters, whose names have been changed, take us to a world in which reality and fiction are mixed, leaving us open the door to mystical individual reflection on science and the mystery of human existence; in which each person puts their own extrasensory experiences into perspective.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662494772

Book preview

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Against the Wind

Jeremiah Shlomi

Derechos de autor © 2023 Jeremiah Shlomi

Todos los derechos reservados

Primera Edición

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

Primera publicación original de Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 978-1-6624-9478-9 (Versión Impresa)

ISBN 978-1-6624-9477-2 (Versión Electrónica)

Libro impreso en Los Estados Unidos de América

Tabla de contenido

To my beloved sisters for believing in me

Beginning

Legitimate Defense of Israel

Olocuilta

Superstitions or Reality Not Accepted

San José, Costa Rica

The Mission

Legends, Vodka, and Surprise

Do Spirits Exist?

Heading to Haifa

Revelations from the Past

Kidnapping

The Flight, the Jungle, and Canuto

Regression

Death Lurking

Lost in the Jungle

Occupied Poland

Damn Cramp

From Leeches and Ticks to Shameless Nakedness

Against the Clock

Lie Exposed

Operation Ant

The New Macho Is Revealed

The New Accomplice of the Women

The Removal

Breaking Karma

San Salvador

About the Author

To my beloved sisters for believing in me

Beginning

Time had passed, and his footprints were felt in each breath, in each step, through life. Benoni Barnethzer, a middle-aged man, had suffered the successes and failures of the road. The son of a Salvadoran Jew and an Israeli in the city of Jerusalem, Israel, he now lived wallowing in memories, plunged into a kind of limbo that at times prevented him from moving forward. There was always a new beginning, a new obstacle, and a new dilemma to solve, a great loneliness. Every time he thought that the storm had passed, something happened, and he had to start over. It was never to end, never to specify anything, and he said to himself often, What have I done in another life to be living this?

Melancholic and quiet and thin but with a strong, manly complexion, cinnamon skin, light-brown eyes, heavy hands, a marked chin, shoulders defined by hours of exercise, and a thick beard, he had survived a thousand and one adverse situations in his life. They left him alone and forced him to wallow in a permanent fight with his own demons in search of a solution to so many things. With his face always serious and alert, he tried to go unnoticed, although it was the opposite that he achieved.

Steadfast, solid, and sure, this man of few words continued to make his way in the reconstruction of his life. For many, he was the typical and arrogant Hispanic Jew. For others, he was the strange type who was never lacking at work. He was known to many and a friend to few, a magnet for women, loved and hated, a mystery emerged from the human race.

Benoni was hurrying to catch his flight to San Salvador. The highway to George Bush airport in the city of Houston, Texas, was temporarily closed, because the police had cordoned off the access after registering a traffic accident. The traffic became unbearable, time was running, and Benoni's anxiety was evident.

The taxi driver, a good-natured Hispanic with a very talkative face, turned on the radio to break the ice and the anxiety that was breathed. At that moment, an old song began to play, the classic Against the Wind by Bob Seger. Then the driver quickly asserted, We are about to arrive. Don't worry, sir, you will be boarding your flight very soon.

Benoni, without looking at him, replied, Do not worry, and he concentrated on the song that was playing. He narrowed his eyes, and his mind traveled to the corner of his memories from just a few years ago. The memory of one summer night during a family reunion at his parents' house in Haifa, in the north of Israel, came to his mind. He and Ilka, his wife, the young Christian Arab with whom fate decided to unite him, danced, tightly embraced. At that time, both lulled by Bob Seger, they knew that they were facing a stormy world full of prejudices, but they were unaware of the pain that their love would bring them across religious and social boundaries for the divided world in which the two teenagers found themselves. Seventeen- and sixteen-year-olds, they were just children playing at being adults. We were so naive, so innocent, he thought.

Suddenly, Benoni's driver told him, We are out of traffic, and in a few minutes, we will be at the entrance of the terminal. Sir, I know this area very well, and I know how to get there faster due to my accumulated experience. The good man laughed, then boasted about his adventures while making his passengers reach their goal on time.

The song ended, and Benoni readjusted himself in the seat, looking for his passport so he could go directly to check his luggage in and go through immigration. Luck seemed to be with him this time. He did not waste time. He hurriedly got out of the car, took his suitcases with the help of the taxi driver, and went to the door of his airline.

Once at the terminal and after the intense immigration procedures, he was finally on the plane. Four hours after, he would set foot on his mother's land, see his sisters and family again, and of course, reunite with his wife, whom he had not seen for a few months by the same destiny that had once united them. How far he was from imagining that he was traveling directly to a new adventure, to an adventure that this time would leave him even more marked for life.

There was the regular hubbub before takeoff, such as people settling down and placing their suitcases on the luggage racks and flight attendants walking, organizing, and directing passengers—the typical atmosphere inside an airplane before taking off and when landing. Hello, sir. Fasten your seat belt please. Let's take off, said a flight attendant to Benoni, who glanced at her again immediately and contemplated a very beautiful young woman with fine features, delicate manners, a tanned complexion, and penetrating black eyes, insinuating, looking him straight in the eye, challenging him openly, very sure of herself. The man immediately caught the vibration of that female. However, he did not give any more thought to the matter. He obeyed her, and as she moved away from him to attend to other passengers, he did not stop watching her.

*****

You think he still loves me even though we haven't talked for six months, and the last time we did, it was just to tell me that he wanted to come? Ilka asked Hanna, who quickly replied, Ay! Ilka, I am sure that when he comes and you see each other, you will not stop touching as when you were younger. Ha ha ha ha!

I don't know where their heads were when they eloped to Kiryat Shmona, Debby said, recalling that both Ilka and Benoni had run away to be together when they were teenagers.

If it weren't for my mom's pupusa, we wouldn't have seen them again, Hanna added after remembering that being hungry and missing her mom's typical Salvadoran food, Ilka returned home two weeks later amid an intense search by both her and Benoni's families.

Ilka just laughed and remembered with closed eyes that winter when she, at sixteen, became a woman, when her love and passion blinded her, and when she became a meek little sheep who nodded without further ado to everything that her boyfriend said.

And worst of all, the two of them fell asleep after eating, said Debby, laughing.

We were tired, Ilka attacked, clarifying that the trip from Kiryat Shmona had been charged with many emotions, as they had been without money and in the midst of overwhelming nerves because of fear of being recognized by someone.

I have always wanted to know why you chose Kiryat Shmona, Hanna asked, but not without first commenting that despite there being so many cities, they had gone to the dangerous border, taking risks and knowing in advance that they could not continue to escape because they could not cross the border in the direction of Lebanon, much less take the road to Syria via the Golan Heights route.

Ilka smiled and said excitedly that this was the town where they had heard that people lived in harmony. Jews, Christians, and Muslims lived together without problems, respecting one another; and that for them, at that time it was presented, was a viable alternative, because they knew that someone would reach out to them and help them settle down while both families accepted their relationship. They did not want to be judged. They were tired of hearing from both sides that this relationship was not viable, that it was not convenient, or that it was not going to prosper.

And as you know, my family is Orthodox Catholic, and Benoni is a Jew, Ilka reiterated, defending the decision that her now husband had made in those days.

Did he treat you well? My brother? asked Debby.

Ilka said excitedly, Yes, like a queen. He made me feel like the most important woman in the world. I didn't hear. I didn't see. I didn't feel anything. I just saw him as him. And the first night, he was so sweet, so patient. And for me, it was a sin what he was doing, but then I would remember that hard thing between my legs wanting to enter my body And he was all sweaty. He smelled so delicious.

There's a girl. Don't go on, Hanna interrupted.

Debby snapped, Bastard. He wasted no time. All the men in my family are the same. They're not comfortable if they're not riding the mare. The three women laughed out loud.

I remember when I saw him the first time without clothes, only in his underpants. We were going to sleep together. I was nervous and did not want to take off my skirt, much less my blouse. I had already seen him without a shirt, because I had spied on him with my cousins when I came to play ball in the street in front of my house with my neighbors. That's how we met, Ilka revealed.

He would see me from afar, and sometimes, he would let me down so that I couldn't see him. And when he did, he would look for me again at the window and laugh. Even if he did not see me directly because I was hidden behind the white curtains from the window, he knew that I was looking at him. His friends let him score goals to celebrate. Those slobbers were his accomplices, Ilka remembered with her eyes closed.

"He was very loud. He wanted to fight for everything, get my attention. One afternoon, my mom told me to go get the bread, and I didn't want to because he was playing and wanted to continue watching it, but no way. I thought he wouldn't see me when he left, but he, who was always attentive to the entrance of my house, saw me go out with my sister, Yamila. At that time, she was very little.

"He stopped playing, pretending to be in pain, and he followed me. I was walking slowly because I saw him when he stopped playing. The Khalil Bakery, it was two blocks from my house, so I continued without paying attention if he was after me. When I entered and asked for the bread, he did it too, trying to hide, looking only at the sweet bread. Mr. Khalil told him, ‘What are you doing so far from home? Your mother already came for the bread.' He just kept quiet and, without saying anything, left.

"When I finished shopping and came outside, he approached me and stood in front of me without a shirt. He was all sweaty, and for the first time, I looked at him up close, those eyes so cute with that honey color. And he told me, ‘I really like sweet bread,' and I said, ‘Seriously? Well, then go back in and buy something.' He started laughing and hit me. My little sister looked at him and said, ‘Look, it's the boy you look at out of the window.' God, at that moment, I just wanted the earth to swallow me up. More nervous, I sped up. He was still behind me. I think he hadn't put on deodorant, but I liked that.

When I was almost arriving, to get rid of him in case my mom was at the door, waiting for me, I told him, ‘Get away from me. You stink of pure lion. Put on deodorant, poor thing!' He froze and stayed where he was. After I told him that, I went to the house, and my mom was already there. When I turned the corner and saw her, I said to myself, ‘Please don't follow me.' But my little sister ran to my mother and went to tell her that the boy I was spying on through the window had accompanied us. My mother didn't say anything. She just looked at me. She made me enter and stay inside. When she saw him and he saw her, he stared at her, and he went to where his friends were.

And your mom didn't tell him anything? Hanna asked.

Ilka replied, "No. Apparently, he had liked me. Later, he confirmed it. When I was going to marry him, the only thing he said was—and I remember it very well—I don't want to see you in the window, or I'm going to have it closed forever. After that, I didn't see him for almost a week. I couldn't. My mom was on the lookout. She wouldn't leave me alone after picking me up at the school. But one day, she had to go to a job interview, and I took advantage of it, but I didn't see him playing.

"Pretending to want to water the garden, I went out and asked Petardo, one of his friends. I don't remember his name. That was his nickname. I asked him what had happened to the Jewish boy, and he told me that he was not long in coming. Also, he revealed to me that he had been asking for me every day. They were classmates from school, and they met to do homework and then play.

Then I saw him appear too. He saw me and went to where we were but didn't say anything. He was speechless, and Petardo asked him, ‘What's wrong with you, asshole? Did the mouse eat your tongue?' He didn't answer. He just looked at me. I ignored him and entered the house. I was shaking uncontrollably. Before closing the door, he told his friend so that I could listen, ‘Today, I got a pretty deodorant,' and he lifted his armpit, putting it on Petardo's face. When I heard it, I started laughing excitedly, Ilka said.

Later, around five in the afternoon, they finished playing, and Petardo, the hunk, and another boy who was nicknamed Mazzinger approached to ask for water through the garden hose, and I told them yes. When I opened the door, I said so. And while they were drinking water, he approached me in one go and kissed me. He grabbed me carelessly, and I did not even have time to slap him. He walked away red, and I slammed the door with my hands full of his sweat. That was the first time he kissed me, Ilka remembered.

I'm not surprised, Debby said, interrupting Ilka. All my brothers are bastards. Their balls come out of their throats when they are in front of a female they like.

At that time, we were living in Nazareth, temporarily, because my father worked in construction or reconstruction of a Catholic Church, I do not remember well, said Hanna, remembering that her father, when he retired from the army, had dedicated himself to his profession as a civil engineer.

And this was how Ilka, an Israeli Christian Arab, originally from a small village on the outskirts of Nazareth in the north of modern Israel, with a slender figure, white skin, intense green eyes, a sweet and tender look, slow and fine speaking, waited for Benoni at the international airport of Comalapa, or Monsignor Romero, as it was now called in memory of the religious martyr in 1980 at the beginning of the Salvadoran Civil War, who was today made a saint by the Catholic church.

A pair of tight jeans and a white denim revealed Ilka's delicate and feminine figure, but it did not hide her anxiety at seeing the man of her life again after six long months of involuntary separation. Hanna and Debby, the adored sisters of Benoni, accompanied her.

By God, I can't stand it anymore. He should be here by now, Ilka complained, rapidly changing the conversation.

Hanna said, Don't hurry. What makes me desperate is the heat, because I was right. Christian Holy Week is approaching, and the temperatures in El Salvador become unbearable, very similar to those of Houston in summer.

*****

The bitter nightmare began for them after the terrorist attack, in which their two young children lost their lives, on a spring afternoon after a Palestinian terrorist blew himself up in the central square of Karkilia, a small northern Israeli city. Eighty-five more people also died, innocents still awaiting justice.

That day, Benoni had a weekend license; and as he had promised the children, they would go to eat ice cream after lunch. But the plans were modified on the way. Before going to eat, they went to the small ice cream shop in front of the park. Little Nathania was eager to enjoy her chocolate ice cream, and the big potato melted to please his daughter while little Shlomi kept up. Ilka objected because it was like taking away authority from what she had originally arranged. However, amid the disgust, she agreed to eat ice cream.

They were making themselves comfortable on a table and directing the umbrella so that the warm spring sun would not affect them in the least. Benoni was sitting the boy while Ilka was talking with the girl about the best ice cream to choose. People came and went—the commercial activity, the bustle of the vehicles driving across the street, the flower vendor on the corner, the soldiers patrolling the area, an elderly couple from their bench in the park, feeding from a cement bench, and a bus approaching around the corner.

Out of the corner of his eye, Benoni caught a glimpse of a young man who was walking hurriedly with his eyes to the ground and with his hands in the pockets of a long and thick black coat, which was out of season since spring was ending but would have been very proper for snowy Jerusalem. The typical curiosity of a military man and his survival instinct turned on the alerts of Benoni's subconscious, and when he looked up, he managed to see the man stop just across the street in the middle of the crowd and the arrival of a bus. Just at that moment, the man opened his coat and shouted at the top of his lungs, Allahu Akbar.

In seconds, a powerful roar shook the place. Benoni could not cover his son, although he tried to place his body as a shield to suffocate the impact. For a few seconds, silence and bewilderment took over the place. Shortly after, Benoni reacted. His ears were buzzing penetratingly. He could not clearly distinguish the sirens of the ambulances, the military helicopters in the air, and the desperate screams of the people. But he managed to see the child on his right, and he crawled toward him, talking to him.

Shlomi, are you okay? Son, answer me. Don't go away. Please be strong. Stay with Daddy. Stay with me. Benoni tried to hug Shlomi, but his right arm was preventing it. It was broken, and his bone was sticking out at the elbow.

The child babbled, I want water. I want water, Daddy. He tried to cry.

The small voice trailed off amid the dry cry of Benoni, who was also desperately looking for his wife and daughter while clinging to the fragile, inert body of his bloodied son. Titanically, he made the effort to kiss little Shlomi's face, but his forces also began to give way. In the distance, he could see some men running toward him. They spoke to him, but he did not understand his body. He could not move, and he had lost his knowledge.

*****

After three days of unconsciousness, Benoni awoke with a start in a hospital. He tried to get up, but it was impossible. Next to him was his mother, Jezebel, who had not detached for a minute from his side. His father and brother were at the back of the room, talking. Benoni quickly tried to speak, a task that was impossible given the swelling of his face, and he asked several times, My wife. My wife! Where are my children? I need to see them. Where are they? I want to see them. My wife! His parents held him while his older brother, Iuval, ran through the corridors of the hospital, looking for a doctor or a nurse to help them.

Calm down! Calm down! Benoni Barnethzer, calm down, his father said in a military tone, who together with his wife was on the verge of tears upon seeing their offspring come back to life.

A doctor entered the room with a nurse. Both held Benoni and injected him with a tranquilizer. He had to rest to be ready to hear what was to come.

*****

Ilka had overcome the crisis as well and was recovering in the midst of strong and endless headaches. Her fractured legs and her wounds everywhere, which were beginning to heal, were nothing compared to the intense pain that accompanied her.

Jezebel, I can't tell him. I don't have the strength for that. I'm dying of pain. I'm drowning, Ilka said, sobbing to his mother-in-law. Did God take away the most beautiful thing he had given us? Why? Why? she asked herself over and over again without finding a clear, objective, sensible answer.

Jezebel, sweet but strong-willed, typical of Salvadoran women, with the aggravating circumstance of being Jewish and used to fighting for her life, could only say, I understand. We'll see when we tell him.

The faster, the better, Colonel Jacobo Barnethzer, Benoni's father, advanced to say. He was a man of strong character, like that of any Israeli soldier, and was a devoted father who had also faced the bewilderment of reality. He knew that from one moment to another, in a fraction of a second, you could have everything and then lose everything thanks to hatred and terrorist fanaticism.

Israel is in mourning, said Iuval as he hugged their younger brother, Tobit, who was also in the room. Unable to openly express his feelings, almost suffocated by the same regret, Tobit only looked at his brother lying on the bed.

Two days later, at the insistence of Benoni through his desperate and recurring questions about his family—Jezebel was filled with strength while the others tried to joke with him by changing the conversation—the inevitable happened. Everyone was silent when they observed that the matriarch of the family had decided that it was time, and without further ado, she approached her son, standing to the right of his head. Son, we are glad that you are recovering. You must continue like this. You have to be strong. Ilka is going to need you, and so are we.

Mom, where is my wife? I want to see her. I want to see the children. Please tell me that they are okay. I need to hug and kiss them. Mother, please! burst out Benoni's voice.

Jezebel looked at him, placed her hand on the plaster of his right arm, and said, Ilka is not long in coming to see you. She has been coming every day and has even stayed to sleep next to you. She is fine, and she is recovering, she said.

I'm happy. I love her, Mother. I love her.

I know, my love. I know, repeat the selfless mother.

And the children? They are fine?

Jezebel could no longer control her emotions, and her tears overflowed down her cheeks. With a broken voice and in the middle of sobs, she said, My son, your children were ahead of us on the trip. Now they rest in peace. Hashem decided to take them away.

Silence seized Benoni, who could only look at everyone in the silent room. There was no consolation in the face of the greatest pain. It was not logical for a father to bury his children.

At that moment, Ilka entered, her wheelchair being pushed by her mother, Samira. Tobit had warned her that they were telling the truth to her brother. She hurried to approach her husband's side. She tried to climb onto the hospital bed, but her broken legs prevented her from doing so. So she ended up leaning back, and they both looked at each other. They embraced and began to cry in the middle of a deathly silence.

Without reproaches and without saying anything, they could only cry in silence. They could not speak the pain that had overcome them. There were no words. There was nothing to say. Only crying was the most genuine expression of the pain that overwhelmed them.

Days later, the funerals were held despite the fact that Jewish law was very strict in this regard. But thanks to forensic medicine, which took time to determine the cause of death of the minors, the traditional funeral rites were carried out without mishaps.

Benoni and Ilka both stayed at Jezebel and Jacobo's house. They still did not have the physical or emotional strength to face the thousands of memories of the children in their house—their voices, their games, or their clothes. Even television cartoons would turn into an endless nightmare in the next few days.

When you are not yet a parent, the silence of the house seems cozy, and you have all the time in the world for your partner. When the children are born, you feel that you are not ready for the new experience, but you get used to it. And the noise they make with their games and tantrums fill you. They complement you. They give meaning to your existence, Benoni said when speaking with his older brother, Iuval, in Jezebel's garden. When they are gone, the emptiness and silence become a permanent torture. What should I do? he asked, unable to shed more tears.

His faithful brother replied, You must continue with your life. You must help your wife, who is also suffering, and you must be strong to overcome this bitter cup.

The children liked to come here, Benoni recalled. They were always asking to visit their grandparents to play in the garden.

Shortly afterward, with his wife, a little more recovered from their physical injuries, with the help of his parents, they decided to return home to face reality, to return to their small house, where every corner screamed some memory. The wounds closed without sealing the past, but something was not right. Benoni had become a hermit. Secretly from his wife, he had begun to drink. He took refuge in liquor to be able to sleep.

Even his work in the hospital was affected. He was reeling from what had happened in Haifa. The army had discharged him with honors, but for him, that meant nothing. His relationship with his wife was going less and less every day. The deterioration was remarkable. The relationship was in danger. There was no contact, and there was no communication. Their discussions began to cause deep wounds in the psyche of both.

Hanna, Benoni's older sister, had followed him prudently without interfering the problem, and she tried to help, so she proposed to Iuval to convince their brother to go to El Salvador to start from scratch. The idea was not bad. On the contrary, it was emerging as one of the general projects of the entire family in the long-term. But how was Iuval to convince his brother to do it if it was not even known for sure if he maintained coherence with the real world?

El Salvador was the smallest Central American nation. It had seen their mother, and it was where Benoni and Iuval had been born before migrating to Israel, escaping the civil war in the 1980s, when thousands of Salvadorans fled violence in the direction of the United States, Canada, Australia, Italy, Sweden, Costa Rica, and other countries that were willing to shelter them.

Iuval shared the proposal but was reluctant to speak with his brother, whom he had hardly seen for a year after the children died, at which time Colonel Barnethzer also began receiving chemotherapy treatments for prostate cancer, which afflicted him. The patriarch of the family did not want to involve his son because of all the pain accumulated in him. He did not want to be a burden or a concern and took refuge in his loyal wife, Jezebel, who had now become the head of the family.

Hanna was determined to convince her brother to settle temporarily in San Salvador, establish a medical clinic, and start life again. For this, she allied with their other sister, Debby, who also shared the conviction that a change would substantially help change the course that Benoni was taking: threatening to destroy what little remained between him and Ilka.

That was why they secretly communicated with their sister-in-law to persuade her. However, Ilka was reluctant to talk to her husband, because she considered that much could still be done in Israel as long as he stopped drinking and returned to her side, their family. Benoni had raised something similar, but he was more oriented toward migrating to the United States and practicing medicine and psychology on American soil.

One night, Benoni came home drunk. He was accompanied by his friends Yehudi and Benjamin. He wanted to continue drinking at home, but Ilka stood up and took everyone out of the house and prevented the night of drinking from lasting. After a heated argument with her husband, they went to bed angry like never before. Benoni wallowed in the memories inside the children's room and blamed himself for not having listened to his wife, who did not want to go taste the ice cream until after eating. He blamed himself for not protecting the children. It made him feel like a failure.

He drowned in his own glass of beer before the gaze of his wife, who in the midst of crying watched him from the door, undaunted and unable to help him, because he had closed himself and was not letting anyone in on his eternal pain. She was tired, and she thought that it was time to change.

The next day, with a hangover from the devil, Benoni got up, stumbling and calling for his wife, but he only found the emptiness of silence and a note stuck on the refrigerator that said the following:

When I eloped with you and risked my life, you promised me in that old hotel in Kiryat Shmona that you were going to fight for us, for our love, for our future. You asked me to have faith and trust in you that despite the headwind, we would find our destiny and place in the world. I believed and trusted you, but now by convincing myself that the man I fell in love with no longer exists, it forces me to leave you to rescue what remains in me.

I can't see you defeated. I don't want to be defeated. I don't want to continue trying to speak to help you, for you to help me. I also lost my children. I gave birth to them, and I faced the world for them and for you. Sometimes, I think that the walls that do not speak understand me better than you.

If there is still a bit of the real Benoni in you, of that boy who played ball in front of my house, of that confident young man who convinced me to escape together, it's time you find yourself. I love you.

When Benoni took it and read it, he did not delve into its content. He thought more about alcohol than anything else. She is going to return, he said to himself, and then he took the phone to call her. Hi, love. It's me, Benoni.

How are you? Ilka asked when she answered the phone.

I already read your letter, and you got dramatic, but I respect you.

Ah, you think that? How well-sentenced.

And I was wondering where you kept the beers. My head hurts, Benoni pointed out. Ilka didn't answer. She just hung up the phone. She got mad! said the man in the middle of his hangover as he tried to get up from the chair in the kitchen roughly in search of a drink.

Hours later, Benoni woke up again, this time with a stronger moral hangover and a criminal headache. He kept thinking that his wife would return. They had gone through worse situations, and she was always by his side. He assumed that she would always be there for him. He could not conceive, did not accept, abandonment.

The hours became days, the days weeks, and the weeks months. He had zero contact with his wife. He had gone to look for her at his mother's house, at his sister's house, and in the Carmelite convent where he used to go to talk with a childhood friend who was a nun; but nothing. The earth had swallowed her. No one gave him information about her.

Despair was killing him. He had already stopped drinking with great effort and willpower, but still, he was emotionally broken. However, he was not willing to lose. All his life, he had been characterized as a fighting man. No one had ever told him that he could not do something. He was stubborn, very stubborn, when he proposed something. The old Benoni was waking up again to reality.

After drawing strength from weakness and regaining sanity and good sense, he realized that if no one gave him information about her, he would be in charge of looking for her on his own account. With that said and done, he began to frequent the favorite places of his wife. Sometimes waiting long hours, he combined work with detective activity. He ate when he could, not when he should, which soon took its toll on his weight. He missed her and wanted her. He was sorry he had become a selfish jerk, drowning in his own glass of water.

One such hot and muggy afternoon, Iuval went to visit the house on the hill and was surprised to find everything in perfect order and with a clean scent. When he saw the unlocked front door, he went through the entire living room, the kitchen, and the rooms. He was surprised to find the children's room clean and tidy with no toys. There was nothing but the beds, the empty closet, and the drawers. He said to himself, Wow, my brother regained his sanity.

Suddenly, Iuval heard noises in the garden and looked through the window. He saw his brother fixing the metal table that they used during weekend breakfasts or family gatherings. Quickly, with a firm and determined step, he went to the back garden of the house and found his brother. Benoni was completely drenched in sweat, determined to fix the uneven legs of the old metal table. He had promised Ilka that thousands of times and had never done it until that sunny day.

You need a hand? asked Iuval.

Benoni looked at him with a start, saying, You scared me! At what time did you come? I didn't hear you come in. I had nothing to do, and I remembered that this table was bad. Ilka had asked me to repair it for a long time.

I'm sorry. I did it through the main entrance. I called, but no one answered.

Don't worry, Benoni told him, and at the same time, he clarified, I do not need one hand but two.

Both men got into work. In addition to the table, they fixed other things that had been neglected in the last two years, during which life passed, leaving deep traces and charging dearly for everything in their path in the house that had been a nest of love and hope.

I see that you have returned to being yourself, said Iuval with satisfaction, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Benoni did not say anything. He only looked back at the garden and walked in the direction of the roses, which his wife had planted years ago. I would like Ilka to see how this is. The stake that she brought from El Salvador, mocking agricultural policies at the Ben Gurion Airport, has taken root and has become a huge and fabulous rosebush. Look how big and red the roses it has are!

Have you heard from her? Iuval asked.

Benoni replied that he had not but that he kept looking. I'll find her. I dream about that, he emphasized.

Iuval watched him, and when he saw the change and the vision that Benoni showed about what he wanted to do, Iuval dared to propose that Benoni temporarily migrate to El Salvador and start again, away from so many memories, from so much pain. After a long time, he found the space to bring up the idea he had conceived with his sisters. Benoni listened carefully and thought that his older brother was right, that it was time to take a new step in his search for happiness so he could end up conquering a better future for him and his wife. He knew it was not too late. The problem was finding her. Where in hell had she hidden? The most logical thing was to find her at her mother's house, but even there, they denied him every time he arrived.

Yes, I had already thought about that. In fact, when I was collecting all the children's things to put them in the garage, I began to reflect and realize that I was wrong. Now I just want to find her, ask her forgiveness. And if she wants to return with me, I would promise again not to fail her. But I think that at this point, she no longer loves me. She has forgotten about me, and she is right. I do not blame her. I was stupid.

Iuval, without commenting on it and before saying goodbye, hugged Benoni and told him, I'm going to find out the ticket prices, and I'll talk to Hanna so she can receive you. I have some savings, and I think they would help you start a business in San Salvador, maybe your own clinic. You can help men a lot. You are a great urologist. You are also half Salvadoran. Remember that your mother was born there, and that country loves Jews. He smiled as they hugged.

I think you're right, it's time to keep walking, Benoni declared, but not without first confessing, You know, the other day, I was with our parents, and I apologized for my behavior.

Yes, I know. That is why I came to look for you today, and I am happy to see that you are well. Mom told me and asked me to take a look at you, Iuval asserted while picking up the garbage bags and going to put them in their place. I'll see you later and tell you what I find out about the trip.

The next day, Benoni was leaving the hospital after twelve hours of intense work. He was driving, lost in the direction of home. He wanted to review the list of places where he had gone to look for Ilka. Suddenly, he realized that he had been to all her frequented places, but he had never gone to the restaurant where they used to eat on Sundays with the children when he was on leave. They knew them there and appreciated them, so he started on the road and arrived on time.

He hurriedly entered and went to the counter, but quickly, his gaze drifted. He saw Ilka sitting at her favorite table, concentrating on the view of the large window in the direction of the street, watching the vehicles circulate and the people pass. He stopped abruptly. His heart began to beat a thousand percent. He was perspiring like an animal. Each step he took was so heavy. He was afraid, anxious, happy, and thousands of other little emotions without any definition. He finally saw her. She was beautiful, but she looked sad. She's waiting for someone, he thought at that moment.

He looked at her and looked at her. He was already near the table when suddenly, she saw him too. Surprised and scared, she picked up her things immediately, wanting to avoid him. She did not say a word. She got up from the chair. She wanted to escape. There she was, face-to-face with the only man she had ever loved. She was shaking uncontrollably, a mindless reflex act.

The combination of the smells, the evening light of the fading day, and the lamps that had begun to light inside