The filling station

The filling station

The Death Sciences

An excerpt

In an average speed of one hundred and ten kilometers an hour, they reached after a short while an impressive lone edifice. A filling station it was but its modern structure and size were a pleasant surprise in those desolate vast plains. The main part of the building was a real plush bar-restaurant, which was an accentuated strange contrast, with its surrounding desert; and although Samir would have preferred to continue their journey and reach the border as soon as possible; he could not stand the temptation to have a close look at the place.

The cab stopped in front of the restaurant and Taher rushed out to open the cab's door and let them out. While they were stretching their aching limbs, in front of the restaurant's entrance, Taher was behind the steering wheel already, driving the cab towards the gas pumps.

Away from Taher's watchful eyes, Samir sneaked an eager hand towards Leila's waist, ready to lead her to the restaurant's entrance.

‘Bas,’ (enough) she hissed angrily pushing his hand away, and added in Hebrew, quite calmly: ’stop it! I warn you!’

‘Oh, don't take offence so easy; I'm here to protect and support you, from now on, don't you remember? But that's all right no offense, and you can count on me, any time.’ He said applying the acquired witticism of the university Campos. But deep inside he was deeply hurt.

What's the matter with her? He thought embittered; she should admire me and keep her mouth shut! I merit it after all, for my efforts and deeds... She might be less strict with me! I’m the one who lowers himself to her. I’m the one who should be respected and honored! Just who does she think she is with that plain face of hers, as plain as the back side of a camel. Am I not a good looking young man? Yes I’m and in due time she'll yield to me willingly. In a short time she'll drop her mask of piousness! He summed disappointed the matter to himself, and pushed open the bar's wide glass door before her. She led the way to the long bar's counter, and both of them settled on the tall round stools next to it.

A young tall Jew faced them behind the counter, sporting long curly blond hair, and wearing a tight tee shirt over broad and muscular shoulders.

‘Ahalen,’ he welcomed them with a haughty smile, using the Arabic form of greeting, which somehow slipped into the Hebrew daily slang. It was Samir's presence that made him take them for his fellow Israelis.

It did not flatter them though it should, neither the fact those loathsome Jews adapted so many Arabic phrases flattered them. On the contrary it enraged them, though right now it served their needs.

Anyhow, Samir conducted the parley with that young Jew, speaking fluently in rather eloquent Hebrew, without a trace of the guttural sounds so typical to Arabs. Leila as an Israeli citizen herself could not but envy his fluent speech, though she hated that language and avoided speaking it. She did own an Israeli passport, a driving license and an identity card as well; but to speak their tongue, which she abhorred so much �" never! She would rather speak English with them, when she had no other choice. Thus she preferred to keep silent, raising a pair of admiring eyes to Samir, letting him handle their affairs with that arrogant Israeli, whom she did not even bothered to glance at; she leaned on Samir's shoulder while he talked, just like those shameless Israeli girls she had seen do. Whenever she thought he talked enough or overdid it, she would nudge him with her knee and kept nudging him after a couple of minutes talk; as she took their conversation for a futile prattle, and did her best to put an end to it. There was no need to run into futile risks, by forcing themselves unwittingly upon that Jew's memory. They could not afford leaving a possible clue, even the slightest one, which might connect them to whatever Samir did that morning. Even arousing that foolish Jew suspicions to the fact they were not Jews but Arabs, might prove a critical or worse �" a fatal mistake! Luckily enough it was the conceited young Jew, who ended abruptly the conversation. He had a busy day ahead of him, he said. He simply could not tolerate Leila's lack of interest in his good looks it seemed, and he grew upset and frustrated as the conversation went on.

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