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» נצפה 203 פעמים מאז תחילת הספירה.
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לפני 14 שנים ו-2 חודשים סיפור חיים באנגלית, פרק 8 A.B.
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Chapter eight: Hormones.
The garage I was working at, is located in Ramat-Gan, a town about fifteen Kilometers from Nof-Yam. I used to walk to the main road and catch the bus at half past six, in order start work at seven-o-clock. But the trip itself took half an hour, and there was a lot of traffic on the road, so I was often late, and at the end of the month there were always deductions of considerable sums from my salary. But I had my compensation, the six thirty bus, had a station near a hostel for immigrant women. At that time thousands of Jews from all over the world, immigrated to their homeland Israel, and until they settled and got work and accommodations, the government provided temporary lodging, these were mostly camps consisting of tents, or in some cases, public buildings that were turned into hostels. Anyway at that station the bus would fill up with women, some of which were quite good looking. On one of my first trips, I offered my seat to an elderly woman, and stood in the passage. The bus was so packed full, that I couldn’t even lift an arm to reach the handles. I was crushed between a nice looking young woman and a faceless crowd, or to be precise, I was unaware of their looks. At the bends and bumps of the road we had no choice but lean on each other, and with a little help from me, it was what is usually called a warm human contact. It is needless to say, that I put on an innocent face, hoping that she will not make a scandal about a gentle touch, here and there. The next day I didn’t even try to get a seat, but rather expected the bus to fill up at the next station, and try to get some more of the human touch. As the bus reached the station, the same lady came in, stopped just in front of me and let the others move on to the back. I wondered if she had enjoyed my heavy breathing, or, now that there was more room in the bus, intended to kick me in my groin. My worries didn’t last long, because it seemed that just like me, she waited for the bus to fill up, and literally engulfed me between her huge boobs. I was sixteen at the time and she must have been at least ten years older. All kinds of thoughts crossed my mind, mainly quotes from movies. Should I ask her, what are you doing tonight? (Samuel and Aaron my so-called brothers went to that hostel several times a week and each time came back with spicy stories.) All my friends bragged about their sexual achievements. I was ashamed about my virginity. I didn’t tell anybody about it, but I felt it was written all over my face. I had a lot of excuses for not making an attempt to meet her in a more suitable circumstance. But the truth is that I was shy, and afraid that if I’d say anything I’ll lose her, so we went on with the same ritual every day, until she got tired of me anyway, and stopped getting on that bus, (or maybe she found another job?) who knows.
Enough is enough; I had to become a man. I was a hunter looking for prey, and there were so many young girls in Nof-Yam, some of them were real beauties. Eli-Sheva was my first choice. She had beautiful black eyes, black hair, a perfect body, and above all, she had a smile to make your heart melt. On the outskirts of our neighborhood, near the beach, was a textile workshop that was used on weekends as a kind of club. The youngsters used to gather there to dance and flirt to the sound of a spring operated gramophone.
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It is there that I approached Eli for the first time. In fact I have met her several times before but she was always with a guy. She even came to our house a few times, because she wanted to attract Jacob, David’s youngest son, but he played it cool, or is it possible that he was not interested? Anyway at the club, I invited her to dance. That was one thing I was good at. At family events, weddings in particular, mom used to say to me:
Look at aunt so and so, she is sitting alone the whole evening, dance with her.
And I the obedient good boy would spend the whole evening, dancing with these fat old women, trying to keep my eyes on some more attractive objects. Back to Eli-Sheva, I had my arms around her, and while we were dancing, I tried to show off, not just with my dancing skills, but also rather with my verbal capacities. From her cynical ex pression I realized that she was not impressed. I watched her dancing with another guy; with him she seemed to be in love, looking into his eyes, leaning her head on his shoulder.
What is so special about him? I asked her when I caught her alone for a moment.
Nothing in particular, we are just friends, she said.
What about me, am I not your friend? I asked in a miserable tone.
Yes you are, she said, but in a different way, our relation is Platonic.
I am not a great expert in Greek Mythology, but I developed a deep hatred to Plato.
Then there was Rebecca. She would win any beauty contest, if she had participated. Her curly hair had the color of honey; she had a constantly challenging look in her blue-green eyes, and a smile that was teasing as much as it was inviting. She used to unbutton my shirt, and caress my chest.
I am crazy about hairy men, they are so masculine, she used to say, but she never let me lay a hand on her. So here again I was rejected and even thou it was always done with a smile, it did still hurt, particularly because I knew that she slept not with one, but with the two Segal brothers at the same time. One evening I met Rebecca on the road that leads to the beach, I asked her if she is not afraid to walk on the beach alone at night.
What is there to be afraid of? She said, do you want to escort me? So I’ll be protected.
I needed no second invitation; my whole body was trembling from excitement. The way to the seashore passes between dark isolated cliffs. I suggested that she hold my hand so she won’t get hurt tumbling down or something, but she laughed at me.
I know the way well enough to make it with closed eyes. She said, and indeed ran down the rest of the pathway till she reached the beach. I did the same and we both stopped grasping for air. It was one of these moonlit nights with millions of stars looking down from the sky. After a while she took off her shoes and walked along the shore letting the waves cover her feet.
You are a mermaid. I said.
Not exactly, she said, mermaids are sexless creatures.
Why am I blushing like that? How long will I stay there motionless? Is that not an obvious invitation? I think that she was aware how clumsy I was, because she moved over towards the dry sand and lay down on her back, her hand under her head, looking up at the sky.
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I lay down beside her and began playing with her hair, then encouraged by the fact that she did not reject me, I kissed her on her lips, hesitantly at first but soon it became mutually passionate. We were both breathing heavily and I became more and more daring. I unbuttoned her shirt, and pushed my hand underneath her back to release her bra, but I couldn’t undo the complicated hooks. It seemed to me that I fondled with them for hours. Luckily she took pity of me and took her bra off herself. After I caressed her firm beautiful breasts for a while, I moved my hand down and opened the zipper of her shorts. That was easy, but taking them off was a new struggle, I was so eager to finally get into her, that my hands were fumbling and pulling at her panties, and before I managed to take off my knickers it was over. I was offered the fruit of paradise and I blew it, I came leaving both of us terribly disappointed. I didn’t even apologize, she got up and without a word, put on her clothes and went away.
Let me at least take you home. I said with a broken voice.
Leave me alone, please. She said, and it took years before she spoke with me again, never mentioning this incident of course.
The following year passed by with no particular events. I was still looking at all the women between sixteen and sixty as potential mates for my first real sexual experience, but my failures made me even more insecure than before. At work, a group of youngsters began socializing after work, and besides having parties about once a week; we took trips together to various sites all over the country. Two of these guys became close friends, Moses, and Ephraim. We used to sing and play music together, and even thou we had only one guitar (it belonged to Moses) we had great fun. Ephraim used to drum on anything available, Moses was the guitar player of course and I with my great voice was the vocalist. At the end of that year I joined the army.
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