The English Teacher by Yiftach Reicher Atir Read Free Book Online Page A

Joe had also noticed the look. “So what?” said Joe, and admitted he had been staring too. “What do you think, with age it goes away? You don’t need to tell me what passed through your mind the first moment you heard from Rachel.” Ehud didn’t saya word. His steak was cold by now and the red fibers lacing the meat stood out like roads leading nowhere.

    W HEN THEY ARRIVE D AT J OE’S HOUSE, evening had already settled in. A light breeze stirred the tops of the trees and the roar of a passing train drowned their voices and helped them to hold their silence. They had known each other for many years and knew that not everything needs to be talked about. Not everything needs to be known, and knowledge, although it may be power, is also a burden. When you know, you need to do something. When you don’t know, you are free.
    â€œSo what now?” Ehud asked. The traces of the long day weren’t perceptible in him. Something new was happening. Energy he didn’t know he had started to bubble inside him. Memories wanted to come out, and he wanted to put them in order, because left inside they were liable to fester. He wanted to talk, that was clear. Not about everything, at least not now. He used Joe like a tennis player practices against a wall. “You’re my sounding board,” he told him, and Joe just nodded and said that was all right, he might as well carry on. Ehud asked what was going on with the war room, and when did they need to report their findings. “What they do in the WR is not our problem, we’re not their backup team,” said Joe, and again he spoke in the steely and authoritative tone that Ehud thought he had lost: “Our advantage over the team in the WR consists of two things only. You know her, and I know you. That’s all. Out of this we need to build the picture, and when we sense something floating up or thickening in what we’re cooking, we’ll pull it out and attend to it. And we’re not going to construct fancy theories either, or get fixated on anything except Rachel’s story. You know there are people at HQ who think maybe she’s doing as Vanunu, hiding somewhere and confiding hermemories to some journalist. And there are other possibilities, including the ashrams and monasteries that people run away to. There in the WR they’ll take care of those issues. And we’ll talk. We must observe one rule—tell the truth and be as honest as you can. You will talk, and I’ll listen. I know you’ll want to hide things from me. We’re all ashamed of some of the things we’ve done. But only the truth. It’s worth it. You might even enjoy it.”
    Joe stretched out on the deck chair in the garden and lit a cigar. He looked content, and Ehud told him he’d never heard him say so much. “Agreed,” Ehud said, and waited while Joe’s wife put a tray down on the little table between them. Then he yielded to temptation and added two extra spoonfuls of sugar to the teacup that he held in his hand. “This is no time to be fighting on two fronts,” he said to Joe, who had noticed. “You can always start a new diet.”

CHAPTER THREE

Milan
    â€œâ€˜Y OU’LL SEE,’ I TOLD HE R, ‘YOU’LL fly there, and it will be easier than you think, and different from the training you’ve gone through, because the sense of danger isn’t something that can be simulated. I know you’re afraid, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Fears are good. Don’t be ashamed of them, they’ll help you to be cautious and prepared. Someone who doesn’t admit to being afraid—he isn’t suitable. We’re not looking for people like that. We need the ones who know the dangers, are afraid of them, and know how to overcome the fear. This is your baptism by fire, and the first time is always the hardest.’
    â€œAnd that’s the way it was, but