The Crystal Circle: A Paranormal Romance Novel (8 page)

“Call Ron, your boss from the schnitzel place. Let him know you’re quitting.”

She smiled and called. Dave heard some shouting and cursing and then the call cut off abruptly. She looked at him, nodded, and stood up.

“Just one more thing, Dave. If you don’t mind, I think our restaurant should be called

Michal’s Cutlets.”

“Why Michal?”

“I’ve always loved that name. I wish I’d been named Michal when I was born. At least the restaurant will have that name.”

Lynn went to the fridge and checked the inventory of ingredients at her disposal.

06/18/2013 - Third day of disappearance

When they came down for breakfast, Saul ate hungrily and didn’t notice that Anna was hardly eating anything. She’d decided she had to lose some weight for him, so that he wouldn’t be distracted by other women.

As she drank her coffee and thought, he excused himself. “My dear Anna, I have to go up to the room for a moment. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Anna nodded with a smile. Saul gave her a little kiss on the cheek and glanced at her with a strange look, and the next moment he was gone.

After waiting for twenty minutes or so, Anna also decided to go to their room. Saul wasn’t there. Even his backpack, which was actually hers, had disappeared. She reached for her purse, which she’d left hanging on the chair. The bag was in its place, but the wallet was open and all the money that had been inside was now gone. Anna collapsed on the bed and sobbed with the pain of insult, grief, and a broken heart.

The maid appeared, hearing the cries, and saw Anna rolling on the bed and screaming. Anna didn’t speak to her. Only when the shift manager was summoned did she calm down a bit, explaining that her partner had run off with her cash and belongings. They checked together that nothing else was missing and called the police. Anna’s shame was immense. She sighed and wished the ground would swallow her up there and then. She didn’t even know Saul’s last name, she had no pictures of him, and knew nothing about his past. “He claimed he’d lost his memory...”

The officer grinned, but held back from laughing out loud. He felt sorry for the innocent woman who’d been taken for a ride so easily. He filed the description given to him and promised to look out for him at the bus station and the airport, but regretfully pointed out to her that she had not been hurt physically and that petty theft of some old clothes and a few bills was not grounds for opening an investigation. He advised her to wait by the entrance of the hotel in the evening. Perhaps her gentleman crook would return.

Two days later, Anna was still watching the beaches, hotels, and restaurants. Eventually, she gave up, returned to Tel Aviv, and continued to sell her jewelry at her stall.

Saul left the hotel and walked to the bus stop, where he changed his clothes, rented a locker, and left his bag inside it. He went to a barber and announced it was time for a shaved head and had all of his hair cut off. He stroked his bald head and his three- day-old, white, tufted beard with pleasure, his scalp shining in the sun. Saul decided to resume the original mission for which he had come to Eilat: finding David. He was determined to meet him face to face, make sure he was the real David, who was plotting to kill him, and finish him off. He walked around the beaches and heard a lot of calls of “David!” but these were usually directed at a black-haired, tanned man; an elderly sunbather on the beach; or a child running into the sea without a floatie. They were not the right ‘David.’

By midafternoon, Saul came to the market stalls, a chain of outdoor commerce one and a half miles long. They sold cheap stuff, usually imported from India, China, and Korea - clothing, scarves, caps, sunglasses, jewelry, and fans.

“Oh, juicy and naïve Anna,” he recalled with a tinge of longing. Worthless items attracted locals and tourists like flies to honey. Fortunately, Anna had thoughtfully provided him with a lot of cash. Therefore, and after some hesitation, he bought a large and elegant black shirt made of a light cotton fabric at one booth and a bracelet dotted with nails at another. He strapped a green bandana to his bald head and donned a pair of black sunglasses. That was it; he very much fitted the image he wanted to present. He especially wanted to look as different as possible from the man who beat up Mr. David in Tel Aviv. Even if someone was looking for him, he wouldn’t recognize him now. He sat down on the steps near the beach and waited. He didn’t know why; he just felt that he had to wait for something to happen soon.

As the day went on, he paid more attention to the guy selling sunglasses nearby. He had an expert line of patter. He clapped male customers on their backs, shouting, “There you go – a real man!” For dark haired women, he used compliments like: “Honey, you look just like Angelina Jolie, at the very least!” The blonds were greeted with: “Believe me! Bar Refaeli would be dead jealous of you right now.” She was, his “sweetheart” whether she was fifteen or fifty. Saul noticed that he placed his entire takings in a small metal box that he kept locked. He didn’t give out any receipts, of course. Later on, an older man arrived, his face wrinkled and his hair gray, bringing a meaty sandwich for the trader.

“Thanks, Dad,” said the trader. His elderly father sat down on the trader’s stool and rubbed his lower back while the younger man left, presumably for a short break. Sales fell dramatically. The father only answered direct questions and made no effort to sell. He only stood up if the client had already given him the money. After two girls in miniskirts left the stall, a small man with steel muscles and a wrestler’s thighs approached.

“Where’s Gidi?” he asked.

“He left,” the father said.

“And when’s he coming back?”

“He didn’t say. Maybe a little later.”

“Don’t waste my time!” The muscular man lowered his voice to a threatening tone, but was still audible. “You know why I’m here, right?”

“No, not really,” said the father, but his mustache trembled. He looked around. Saul made himself look like he was examining merchandise in a nearby booth and listened with great interest.

“I’m here for the taxes. Gidi promised three days’ taxes. Give it to me now!” He came within a centimeter of the old man’s face and grabbed his arm, bent it backwards and the old man shouted in alarm. “Why are you shouting?” The muscleman gave a bright smile and exclaimed loudly, “I came to say hi, and this is how you treat your friends, huh?” Menacing again, he hissed, “Where’s my money?”

“How much? How much?” Gidi’s father asked.

“Because you’re his father and a good person, make it a grand. Then we’ll call it a day.”

The father muttered something to himself and was opening the cash box when Gidi suddenly returned. “What are you doing?” he admonished his father. “What are you giving him?”

“The... the taxes you said you’d give him...” murmured the old man.

“Hey, asshole! What do you want from my father? Can’t you see he’s an old man?” shouted Gidi at the thug.

The muscleman approached Gidi and said, “A thousand and I’m gone. This is what you pay. Tomorrow it’s twelve hundred. Or tomorrow, it’s ciao, Pappy. Got it?”

Two elderly women were browsing the goods, oblivious to the drama. “Excuse me, how much are these glasses?”

“See to them, Dad!” Gidi said.

Gidi’s father went to serve the customers, and Gidi took out four two-hundred bills and handed them to the thug. “Screw you, shithead!” The muscleman spat on Gidi’s shoes, while stuffing the money in his pants and hurrying away.

Saul went to sit behind the stall, but still in earshot. After several more successful sales, a city inspector approached the booth. At first, Saul thought he was a cop and shrank in his seat, an absurd attempt given that he was wearing a green bandana and looked enormous, even when sitting. But the inspector was actually looking for Gidi.

“Hello, sir. Are you aware that you’re in violation of the Municipal Law Section BB750, sub-section B?”

“Really?” Gidi sat down in his chair with a calm smile, all sweet. “And what is this law, Inspector?”

The inspector flipped through his papers and quoted, “No person shall engage in peddling on the street or a public place within the city without a permit from the Licensing Department at City Hall.”

Gidi laughed loudly, alarming the old ladies.

“Permit? Why? I’m sitting here doing good deeds, aren’t I? I’m fitting glasses for pretty girls, and they thank me for making everything look pink to them. Would you also like some spectacles, Mister...” he read the tag on his uniform, “… Anton?”

“God forbid. Are you trying to bribe me?”

Gidi roared with laughter. “Bribe you? I’m doing good deeds, and those who wish to do so, reward me with money.”

“It’s called peddling,” ruled the inspector, leaving Gidi a copy of the fine on the counter. As soon as the inspector disappeared, Gidi crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it toward the beach, behind the counter. The ball of paper hit Saul on the head.

Gidi looked up, surprised, and said, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Saul said, smiling. “Nice job, Gidi, the way you blew off that inspector.”

“Were you listening?” Gidi was squinting suspiciously.

“I admire people who know how to do business and blow off those who get in their way.” Gidi waited. He realized that the conversation was developing in a certain direction.

“And who are you?”

“My name’s Saul. I came to Eilat to do business. Special business.”

Gidi left Saul and turned to serve some youngsters, finally closing the deal at the fine sum of several hundred shekels. He told his weary father that he could go home.

Saul said, “You know how to sell, for sure. The thing is, you have to know what to do with the money.”

Gidi took a step back and covered the cash box.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a thief,” Saul smiled broadly. “I came from Tel Aviv to see how traders here work the promenade.”

“Everything’s full. There’s no space for new stalls,” said Gidi.

“I’m not going to get into market trading. You do it very well. I’m opening a private bank here. Within a month, you get your investment back with an additional 25%. Within two months, 50% and within four months, not only will your investment double itself, you will also gain 25% extra!”

“A bank?” Gidi wasn’t sure he understood Saul’s intentions.

“I did it in Tel Aviv, and now I’m expanding to Eilat. I’ll help you realize the Jewish commandment: He who steals from a thief is exempt from punishment.”

“What does that mean?” Gidi stared at him.

“Meaning tax authorities, social security, and this whole country is exploiting those who work hard for a living!”

“Right…” said Gidi carefully, suddenly concerned. “You’re not an undercover cop or some sort of income tax inspector or something, are you?”

“Are you crazy? They’re the thieves!” Saul spat on the floor to emphasize his words. “And it is commanded to withhold from them what they do not deserve and give it to the poor.
Robin Hood
– seen that film?”

Gidi smiled. “Once, when I was a kid. Yeah. So who are the poor?”

“You. Because you’re buying goods, working hard, selling them… then these muscled swindlers come along...”

“Did you see that too?” Gidi was startled. He turned his head right and left to make sure they weren’t overheard.

“Yes, and I’ve seen how disgracefully they treated your old man. They have no respect for elders or anybody. It’s time to teach them a lesson.”

“How exactly? What are you up to, Mr. Saul?”

“I’m looking for a partner. I’m opening a traders’ bank here. Everybody wins because I have extensive knowledge of equities and investments abroad. Banks have liabilities - salaries, inflated bureaucracies, and they can’t do businesses the way I, an independent banker, can. If you join the business I’m founding here, you’ll get a third of all profits.”

Gidi straightened up and looked at Saul thoughtfully. He couldn’t decide whether to believe this strange man who popped up out of nowhere. He didn’t look like a tourist, and, despite his strange clothes, he spoke like a high-tech person or an accountant from Tel Aviv. Either way, it was an interesting proposition.

When Gidi closed his stall at the end of the afternoon, they sat on the beach, bottles of beer in their hands, the conversation between the older man and the younger flowing with friendly ease. There were occasional bursts of loud laughter echoing along the darkened beach. At the end of the conversation, they shook hands warmly, patting each other’s backs, and walked up to the boardwalk, which was now relatively deserted.

“So where are you staying, Saul? Which hotel suite?”

Saul shook his head from side to side.

“With all the money you made in Tel Aviv, I figured you’d be in the Herods.”

“I’m stingy, my friend. No way will I just waste money. There’s no reason to flash my money dressing up like an Armani model. It isn’t good for business. You don’t want people to think you’re taking all the money that’s meant for them. Better to be humble. You’ll learn. Besides, I only arrived in Eilat today… haven’t found the time to look for a hotel yet.” He gave an embarrassed smile and gave a perfectly timed downcast look.

“Forget the hotel. They’re all thieves!” Gidi said. “Come to my apartment. You can bunk down on the couch. Tomorrow we’ll see how we move forward. What will we call our bank?”

“Our bank?” Saul looked at him for a moment and then smiled. “King’s Bank - the bank of kings. Because, with us, everyone soon becomes a king...”

“Cool!” Gidi smiled, and his eyes began to dart around. He was no longer paying attention.

Saul said, “What are you looking for?”

“The bong seller. He split with the girls.”

“Let’s go find him.” Saul looked round. “Tell me exactly where he is.”