From Siberia With Love Read online

  An appointment with a computer technician had been scheduled for her. He was supposed to arrive on behalf of the company where the bank had purchased new banking software from.

  The parking lot was empty of vehicles, and Edith understood the accountants were already gone. It was a wintry noontime, beautiful and sunny, an enchanting Israeli winter day when the sun shone in all its glory, yet did not warm everyone to death. This is what it’s like here, she thought, the winter sun emitting an abundance of warm and pleasant golden threads, illuminating the day. Only two hours earlier, Edith had left the bank to go home for her lunch break, and during that brief time she had already managed to do much. She prepared a fresh lunch for her children, a classic meal: Chicken cutlet, salad and mashed potatoes. She had even managed to take a half-hour nap before the children returned from school. Ruthie was already a big girl, a ninth grader, her last year in middle-school. Edith’s baby had grown and turned into a beautiful teenager with a petite figure. She was already taller than her mother. She looked much like Edith with her gentle, heart-shaped face and wide cheekbones that gracefully merged into a small chin. Ruthie’s eyes were black unlike Edith’s green eyes; her hair was fair, long and with lively curls all the way down to her shoulders. She was a cheerful child filled with self confidence, always surrounded by friends, independent and opinionated. When she would not get what she wanted, she wasn’t afraid to show her claws, yell and scream until everyone would give up, and one way or another, she was always able to get her wishes.

  Alex, on the other hand, her brother who was three years older than her, had remained a gentle souled teenager, noble and quiet. In a year and a half, he will finish high school and join the army. He was an intelligent and serious young man and an honorary student.

  Edith had zealously maintained a close relationship with her children, in spite of the many hours she had to work outside the house in a double shift position at the bank. During the evenings, when the children would do their homework, she was there with them again, to aid them with love. Yossi, their father, wasn’t able to muster energy for anything at the house after his work day, when he would return from the construction sites. He was tired and exhausted, always working hard. Yossi was a foremen, his main job involved supervising the work of the laborers. In buildings that were under construction, on floors in which the walls were yet to be built, severe weather conditions prevailed. Strong drafts would blow every day of the year. During the summer, the wind was warm and in winters the strong gusts of wind would freeze the laborers’ bones souls. He had been working as a foreman for a construction company for years, building the settlements of central Israel.

  Alex used to visit his mother at work almost every day. On his way from school, he would go into the bank branch with friends, high school students, and they played in a fictitious stock-exchange for youths, gaining or losing fictitious money. Aryeh, the bank manager and Edith’s direct boss, would also get in the mood, helping and guiding the children in their game. In return, they shared with him the sandwiches that had remained in their schoolbags from their breakfast, or bought falafel for him as well from the street corner.

  Edith got out of her car dressed like a lady, elegant, with a luxurious wintry suit; a tailored, checkered wool jacket and a short black skirt that suited the jacket well. A white chiffon shirt with a low-cut neckline flowing with tiffany completed her impressive appearance, which was the talk of the bank. Edith was always meticulously dressed, mostly in expensive suits, short skirts and shoes with heels as high as physically possible.

  After many years in which she had been forced to sit at home, she was blowing off steam. Ten years of house arrest, that’s how she referred to the period in which she had had to sit home with her babies, under the shadow of her mother-in-law, who lived with them and insolently scolded her for every new item of clothing she would buy with sarcastic and irritating remarks, “You’ve brought clothes you don’t really need again?”

  That difficult time in her life had left its marks on her. Edith piously preserved a petite figure and her hair always flowed with coiffures designed once a week by the hairdresser. Now she’s working in a double shift position, a very busy woman. Busy at home and busy outside of it, and feeling at her best, freer than she had ever been. She loved to be with people and had all the patience in the world for them. She inspired the customers’ trust with the patient ear she would lend them, doing her best to please them. Because she was a beautiful and pleasant woman, people always rose from her desk with a smile of satisfaction on their faces. Thanks to her wisdom, she was quickly promoted from teller to an investment advisor, one who knew a thing or two about the volatile state of the economy. She had become one of the bank’s most professional employees, after taking many continued education programs, including day-courses at the university.

  Nowadays, she planned and customized savings plans for customers, based on their personal financial abilities. She worked in direct cooperation with the central bank management, and her work included investments in the recuperating Israeli stock exchange.

  When Edith locked her car, another car arrived and parked right next to it, even though there was plenty of room in the empty lot. A young man with a heavy accent emerged from it.

  “Excuse me, Miss, could you please tell me where the entrance to the bank is?”

  “You’re welcome to join me, that’s where I’m going.”

  She waited a moment for him to lock his vehicle, a white Renault, and continued on her way, leading him toward the bank’s rear entrance.

  “Are you a computer technician?”

  “How did you know?” he asked with childlike naivety while following her. “That’s right, I’m a computer technician and I have a training appointment here in the bank. I’ve been sent by my company to instruct the employees about the new software the bank had purchased from us.”

  “Your appointment is with me, sir, this is why I came early to work today.”

  “Really? Pleased to meet you, Miss.” There was something graceful about his heavy speech.

  Suddenly he stopped, blocked her way to the entrance of the emergency stairway, and blatantly extended his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alex Yakobovich Rosengard.”

  She was amazed, without realizing why at first, but then suddenly the name Alex fitted the man’s heavy Russian accent.

  “My name’s Edith.” In Hebrew, the names are much shorter. The two climbed up the dark staircase of the emergency exit and entered the banking hall. They went up to the second floor, and she led him to her station in the designed and spacious hall.

  “So you’re going to teach me everything about my new computer and the new software that comes with it?”

  “I’ll teach you everything, whatever you want to know,” he promised her with bemused enthusiasm. He drew his face close to her and gave her a long stare with his blue eyes. He was a handsome man with an athletic built; his hair was brown and long, gathered into a nice ponytail. A genuine country Russian from the Ukraine, another gentile who immigrated to Israel in the recent large Aliyah, she thought to herself while examining his white and slightly flat face that emanated warmth.

  “So you’re the man I’m going to study with today,” she suddenly felt very comfortable beside him.

  “I need to sign in with the manager, that’s what I’ve been told to do.”

  “The manager is not here now, only you and me.”

  “How will they know I’ve arrived?”

  “The only one who needs to know you’re here and that you’ve done your job is me. I’m the one who will need to work with your new software, understand?” she explained to him and to herself in plain Hebrew. She was tired of the strange man’s childish questions. They didn’t speak anymore; he sat in front of the computer and turned it on. She pulled a chair and joined him, waiting to be instructed.

  They worked for the duration of her entire shift and left together during the evening, after the bank’s
closing hour.

  “Alex? I can tell you’re Russian according to your name.”

  “Alex has always been my name, that’s the name my mother had given me when I was born. Yes, in Russia an entire generation of boys received the name Alex, Alexander, Sasha, Sashinka, you know. I thought maybe in Israel things will be different, that I’ll be the one and only person named Alex. But it turned out very quickly that all my acquaintances here are called Alex, as if there’s no other name for any of my friends.”

  “My son’s name is also Alex,” she said, pensively.

  “Really?” he seems so happy.

  “My son was named Alex after my grandfather on my father’s side who tragically died in the holocaust. An SS officer shot him in the head at close range, while he and my grandmother were captured by the Nazis while trying to escape to the forests. May they rest in peace.”

  The sudden urge to tell this story was strange, Edith had not yet told it to anyone.

  “You don’t say?” he was surprised as well, “My grandfather on my father’s side was also called Alex, that’s why I was given this name. My father’s Russian name was Yakov Alexandrov Rosengard and mine was Alex Yakobovich Rosengard.”

  “The names in our families have a lot in common. My grandfather’s last name was Rosengard as well.” She was lost in thought now rather than conversing. “Before I married, my name had been Edith Rosengard…”

  She awoke from her reflections and blinked her eyes, looking about her, seeking something to lean on to steady herself. Because she felt she was about to lose her balance, she leaned on the hood of her car. He stood in front of her, listening to her every word.

  “Really? How can it be?”

  She nodded, unable to understand. “You see, with us it’s not that simple,” Edith continued, telling and revealing family stories that weren’t supposed to interest anyone but herself.

  “I wasn’t familiar with my grandmother’s and grandfather’s names because I had never known them. As I’ve said, they passed away during the holocaust, years before I was born. When our eldest son was born, my husband and I gave him the name Alex for a simple reason, it is a name I’ve always liked. During the Brith ceremony, my aunt Anna, my late father’s sister, came to me and hugged me with great excitement. ‘You’re a good child, Edith, the only one of our children who has given her son a name to honor the memory of our dear father, Alex Rosengard, your grandfather.’

  So as not to disappoint my aunt, I didn’t tell her I had actually had no idea about my grandfather’s and her father’s name, whom I never had the opportunity to meet. This aunt is actually all the family I now have in Israel. My father passed away from a severe illness while still abroad, I was only a small child then, and my mother remarried and gave birth to three more brothers with whom I have no contact. They don’t live in Israel. I immigrated to Israel by myself. My aunt Anna has adopted me because her only son had been killed during the six-day-war.

  Edith raised her head and focused her eyes. He didn’t move a muscle, listening to her story attentively.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, please excuse me if I’ve caused you any delay,” she apologized.

  “It’s fine, I’m interested in what you’re telling, go on, feel free to continue.”

  A strange young man encouraging her in a heavy Hebrew accent of a new immigrant to continue with her stories, she thought. Standing next to her with his head down and his hands crossed on his robust chest.

  “A few years later, when Ruthie, our daughter, was born, the same Aunt Anna came to us from Netanya, moved to tears and continued to provide us with revelations about our family’s past. ‘You’re our best child, calling your children with our dear parents’ names, Ruth and Alex,’ she tearfully thanked me and gave me a beautiful present for the children. For each, a gold necklace with a Star of David pendant, a tiny diamond embedded in it.”

  Edith suddenly returned to reality and rose from the hood of the car. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her, just like that, she was telling her entire story to a young man she had just met? He was standing close to her, legs spread and standing firm, listening to her every word, not interfering and not saying anything. The evening’s darkness stormed the settlement and the street lights had been turned on.

  “I have to run,” she came to her senses. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this, I don’t really know you.”

  “That’s all right, your story is very interesting,” he said quietly, took another step toward her, gathered her hand in his, raised it to his warm lips and kissed it. In the soft illumination of the night, she noticed the excitement on his fair face. He didn’t look at her any longer, went inside his car and took off, tires screeching.

  She remained standing in the darkness, shocked and excited, in the empty parking lot behind the bank.

  Who did I have met? She asked herself. A new Russian immigrant? I’ve known him for two hours and what did I do? Tell him the entire story of my life, a story I haven’t told anyone yet? What is going on here? What went through my mind while I was doing that, and why have I done that? She didn’t even know if she’d ever see him again. They haven’t spoken about tomorrow, neither did they exchange phone numbers. One thing was certain, that Russian hunk sure knew how to kiss a woman’s hand. She smiled to herself while starting her car to get back home.

  The following day, he came to the bank again. At three o’clock in the afternoon, Edith returned to work after her break, and he was already sitting next to her colleague, Dorit Segal. This time, he taught Dorit everything about the computer and its new software. When Edith had intentionally passed by them, they didn’t even pay attention to her, they were so absorbed in their own affairs.

  Edith gathered the mail and fax messages that came for her at noon and began to work. While speaking with her first customer, the sound of loud laughter reached her ears. She turned around toward the laughters, they were coming from Dorit and her instructor. Her colleague and the renowned computer technician were laughing out loud, as if they were by themselves, as if all the customers had already left the bank. Edith suddenly noticed the annoying way in which he was sitting. He sat very close to Dorit, legs spread wide as if he was embracing her with his crotch, and it seemed to her his leg was touching hers. Edith shrugged, it didn’t concern her, but after she had finished with her first customer and moved on to the next one, she asked him to wait and approached them.

  “Hi Alex, do you remember me? Edith, from yesterday?” she addressed him directly, ignoring her colleague’s presence.

  “Oh, pardon!” he jumped to his feet when he noticed her standing in front of him.

  “You know each other?” Dorit asked, surprised.

  “Yesterday, he sat with me and taught me everything about the new software. What, you don’t know, he didn’t tell you?”

  “No, no, he didn’t,” answered Dorit naively.

  “Listen, this morning there was a bug in your program, it didn’t allow me to continue with my work. It got stuck or something, it ignored the funds’ interest.”

  “Was the interest negative or positive?” he joked at her expense.

  “Depends for whom. In our line of work, there’s only one important rule, the bank always earns. We’re here to sell people financial services, get it?” Edith emphasized the essence of her profession.

  “It all depends on how you look at it. Understand, ‘malchik[1]’?” Dorit interfered in the conversation, jealous, not liking her colleague’s presence.

  “Before you go, could you please come by and take another look at my computer?” Edith hissed.

  “Of course, whatever I can do to help, I will,” he said earnestly, standing in front of her with Dorit sitting between them. Edith noticed his athletic build again, while he was standing close to her in all his glory.

  “What now? What does she want? What does she want from you? She wants a dime, perhaps?” Dorit said to Alex in Russian.

/>   “I didn’t know you spoke Russian,” Edith wouldn’t leave them alone.

  “So now you know,” Dorit got upset. “Why are you taking him from me, he’s still not done with me, we haven’t finished anything yet.”

  “Girls, girls, please don’t argue. Don’t worry, I’m with you and I’m completely devoted to the both of you, as much time as it will take. You can ask me anything, everything you need to know in order to work well. We’ll learn a lot together, I promise.”

  “In any event, when my dear colleague will let you go, please be sure to stop by,” she ordered him.

  “Of course, of course, anything you say,” he answered with exaggerated willingness.

  “Idiom, idiom, malchik, davay prodolejim[2]”, Dorit rushed the young man, in Russian, of course.

  Edith got back to her waiting customers and continued with her work.

  Half an hour before closing time, the manager sent for her. He called a general meeting of all employees dealing with investments and savings plans, to discuss steep declines in Israeli shares on Wall Street, following the current national emergency situation.

  The meeting went on until eight o’clock in the evening, and Edith never got the chance to meet Alex again.

  The following day was a Wednesday and the bank was closed in the afternoon. On Thursday, another man from the computer software marketing company came to teach the employees and work with the new banking software. He was a born and bred Israeli in every aspect and didn’t have anything in common with the new immigrant from Russia, other than the purpose of his visit. Edith realized the affair had finished before it even had a chance to begin, and the Russian Alex had passed through her life like lightning on a clear day, only to disappear from the horizon after the storm had passed.