All Backs Were Turned Read Online Free Page A

in court today, the judge must have told you that if you got into any more trouble, they’d lock you in the slammer for quite a while. Look, I know you; you just can’t keep your nose clean. Tel Aviv is bigger than Eilat; if anything happens here again, the judge will forget about your heroic past—”
    â€œSkip that stuff,” Dov said.
    â€œWell, go to Eilat. That place is full of guys like you. You can do whatever you like and nobody will bother you. If you slug someone, the guy won’t start yelling for the cops, only slug you back. I’ll give you my jeep; you can pay me later. In Eilat you’ll look up this guy I know working at the airport and he’ll help you find tourists you can drive out to the desert, show them around. Tourists like taking pictures and bouncing their guts in jeeps; it makes them feel like adventurers. And you’ll be making enough for a man to live on.” He poured himself a shot of brandy. “Sorry. Enough for two men to live on. When winter comes, you’ll come back here and pay me my share.”
    â€œAll right,” Dov said, getting up. “I’ll call our hotel and find out what time we have to check out. I want to leave tonight.”
    Women turned their heads to stare at him as he walked across the room, but he didn’t notice the looks they sent him. He resembled a man walking across a cornfield and parting the stalks with his hands.
    â€œFunny, isn’t it?” the stout man turned to Israel. “The way a woman can hurt a man.”
    â€œYeah,” Israel said.
    â€œWhen did he see her last?”
    â€œA year ago,” Israel said. “Maybe more.”
    â€œAnd he still thinks about her?”
    â€œI guess so.”
    â€œShe really got to him,” the stout man said. “He’s like a blind man now. Why did they split? Did he ever tell you?”
    â€œNo. He never talks about it. Not even to me.”
    â€œTell him to stop thinking about her. There are plenty of other women around, thank God. Tell him I said that.”
    â€œTell him yourself,” Israel said. “Why wouldn’t you give me a job?”
    The stout man looked at Israel for the first time since he’d walked into the restaurant. He placed his glass on the table and said, “You should go away. You aren’t suited for this country and you don’t like it. Dov loves it. Too bad he’ll come to such a stupid end.” He gazed into the distance; his eyes were red and tired. “When I came to Israel, the man who worked in a kibbutz drying swamps, building roads, or planting orange groves was considered the number one hero. Now it’s the rich American Jew who comes here to invest his money and won’t even bother to learn ten words of Hebrew. So I, too, decided to start making money. Why not? I don’t like to appear a fool. I’m telling you to go away. Take my advice, sonny boy.”
    â€œI’ll get used to it,” Israel said.
    â€œYeah, you might get used to this country. But you won’t learn to like it.”
    Dov came back and sat down. It was dark now and a huge moon was hanging low over the sea, but the beach was still crowded and the heads of swimmers dotted the broad white waves far away from land.
    â€œWe might as well stay the night,” Dov said. “They charge you anyway if you check out after six.” He turned to the stout man. “Where’s your jeep?”
    â€œOutside. I came in it. I knew I had to give you this last chance. Even though you’ll let it slip through your hands, you dumb bastard.” They watched his swarthy, meaty face and his thick fingers playing with the glass. “What does your dad do, Dov?”
    â€œHe lives with my brother.”
    â€œAnd how is he? Has he changed a lot?”
    â€œHe’s eighty now. You don’t change at that age.” Dov rose, taking the jeep’s registration card and the car keys