18/10/99
Unreal
Israel:
Journeys of the unexpected
Life sometimes has its moments
that fall somewhere between "only
in Israel" and "tales of the
unexpected."
I arranged to meet someone, and
long afterward, having forgotten about
the first appointment, I made another
on the same day -- both of them out
of town.
That was bad enough, but when
I couldn't hit the road because of car
trouble, it didn't look good.
It was developing into a ba-a-a-d
day. But the worse it got, the better
it turned out.
I waited for the repairman, tensely
watching the minutes slip by. I needed
plenty of time to get to both, because
I had to assume I would get at least
a little lost.
When I finally got going, any
leeway I planned for had vanished. There
would be no time to navigate through
evening rush hour, never mind dashing
about ineptly.
My first stop was Ra'anana. I
checked where I'd be going next, held
my breath, and -- what luck! Also Ra'anana.
So at least I would be driving
around in circles in only one city.
I pulled up at my first destination
and opened up a map of Ra'anana to check
how far one place was from the other.
That's when I noticed, for the
first time, their addresses.
As it turned out, the hour I
had allotted for getting lost -- which
happened to be how long it took to fix
the car -- was unnecessary. The time
remaining, about five seconds, was more
than enough.
They were next-door neighbors.
I WAS driving through the Negev, from Nitzana to
Eilat, late on a freezing winter night.
It was a trip fraught with danger: some
roads were flooded, others were iced,
my car had no heating, and I was c-c-c-cold.
I had been driving a long, long way,
and hadn't passed another car, a person,
not even a light. It was spooky, unnerving,
scary. To assuage my building anxiety,
I kept reminding myself that my "oldmobile"
has never, ever broken down away from
home.
It broke down.
This was serious.
As luck would have it, I had
reached Mitzpe Ramon, the only sign
of cilivilation on this route. But it
was well after midnight: what hope was
there of getting help here?
A saw a light -- a light!
-- and found, of all things, a pizzeria.
No chance that it would still
be open.
It was.
There was a man behind the counter,
hoping somebody in the middle of the
desert, in the early morning hours,
might possibly want to buy pizza.
I felt like an idiot asking if
perhaps, in addition to baking cheese
onto a crust, he might also know how
to fix a car.
He didn't say yes, didn't say
no, but trudged through the snow with
me to my auto mortis -- and for the
next hour, he took it apart, put it
back together again, and finally, trembling
from the cold, he said, "Start
'er."
The dead old thing roared to
life.
Barely able to believe this was
really happening, I asked if the car
might get me to Eilat. "It's about
150 kilometers," he said. "Whatever
you do, don't stop."
I pulled out my wallet, and he
smiled and shook his head. Glad to help,
he said.
We went back to his shop, and
I bought a slice of pizza. I put 200
shekels on the counter, said "keep
the change," and never stopping
once, made it safely to Eilat.
I TOLD that story to a friend, Morris, and he grinned.
"The same thing happened
to me, but in reverse," he said.
"I was still in the army,
and I was driving on that same road,
somewhere between Mitzpe Ramon and Eilat.
I came across a guy who was in big
trouble: his car was off the road, with
two blown tires. One flat is bad enough,
but who carries two spares?
"It was Shabbat, and there
was absolutely no one on the road, nothing
moving. The poor guy said he'd been
waiting a long time before I came by."
Well, the fates could not have
sent him anyone better: Morris happens
to be my car mechanic, and a grade A
mensch.
"I got the tires off and
drove 10 kilometers to my base, fixed
them, put them back on and got the car
out of the ditch." Morris, too,
refused to take any money. "The
guy was in shock. He kept calling me
an angel from heaven."
JUDY AMIRAM was on a bus stuck in Jerusalem traffic.
She was obviously going to be late for
her appointment, but just as she was
about to call to apologize, her cellphone
rang; it was the person she was going
to see -- and she had the same problem.
They chatted for a while. Judy
became increasingly irritated at a woman
who was intently eavesdropping on her
conversation, but eventually the snoop
moved off to the front of the bus.
The eavesdropper reappeared,
disappeared, and yet again, pushed through
the passengers toward Judy.
Stopping in the middle of the
bus, she pointed a finger at Judy. "You,"
she said loudly, then turned to the
front and pointed another finger, "and
you, are talking to each other. Just
thought you'd like to know."
The passengers burst into laughter,
and the interlocuters switched off their
phones and were united face-to-face.