Ze'ev Nehama

Revision is a bit of a nightmare

When I picked up "Bring Me Comfort" again, I was excited by the parts of the story I still liked and pretty disgusted by the parts I didn't. No surprise there. Then I started to make notes of subplots and character changes that I thought would really benefit the story and I was even more excited. But then the reality hit me: how to incorporate these changes into my already written material?You'd think it wouldn't be that hard but it is surprisingly difficult to cut large portions of writing and insert whole new scenes and/or characters. I now have three different files open in Word - the original manuscript, the revision in process and new scenes. Hope this is the best way to organize myself. I guess I'll find out soon enough!

Tel Aviv at night

Excerpt from "Bring Me Comfort"- Chapter Two

When I got home I turned on my computer and while waiting for it to boot changed into a t-shirt and leggings. Armed with coffee I turned on the computer and went straight to the Ha’aretz website. The headlines and photos screamed the brutal news at me, and I dropped my head in my hands in despair. There had been a suicide bombing at a Seder at the Park Hotel in Netanya. Twenty-nine people had been killed and two hundred and forty wounded. The Hamas bomber, wearing a woman’s wig, had tried but failed to release lethal cyanide gas. The fact that this was the same poison used by the Nazis under the infamous name of Zyklon B was not lost on the Israeli public. The photos of the scene were graphic and extremely disturbing; Seder tables overthrown and stained with blood, body parts being collected by ZAKA, the Jewish Orthodox organization that insures that all bodies are buried with their pertinent parts, a prerequisite of Halacha, Jewish law, which states that every piece of the human body is holy. Any part that cannot be matched to a body is tested for DNA. Reading the article about the event, I was struck by the fact that this terror attack came as the culmination of a particularly bloody month for Israel, perhaps the bloodiest ever as far as civilian deaths were concerned. Eighty-one Israelis had died in almost daily attacks inside Israel and the Occupied Territories. Adding up Israeli civilians and soldiers, the March 2002 casualties numbered almost one third of all those killed during the entire Intifada. At this point, I thought, anybody could be viewed as a potential suicide bomber. My heart was heavy as I got into bed and thought of the concert the following night. It was almost a daunting thought to go somewhere where there would be so many people together in one place, but I was not going to let that stop me. Going out was such a huge part of life in Tel Aviv that it was hard to envision a situation that would keep people housebound. I didn’t think that even the current state of the country could stop us, but it was getting close.

Thursday evening at around nine-thirty I met Nurit and Yonatan outside the Barbie Club on Salamay Street near Jaffa. We were submitted to the routine body scan and bag search and then together we went inside. The concert didn’t start until ten and when we entered the stage was dark and European techno music was blasting from the speakers. We went to the bar and my stomach did a flip when I saw Ze’ev and the rest of the band standing at the far end of the counter drinking bottled water. As soon as Ze’ev saw me he came over towards us, pulled me to him and gave me a kiss on the lips. His lips were cool from the water he had been drinking and I pressed my body against his, feeling like I did not want to be parted from him ever again. As he kissed me I reached out for his hand and held it, and we did not let go of each other’s hands when we drew apart. Squeezing mine he turned to greet Nurit and Yonatan. Asher had made his way over as well and was speaking with Yonatan. He seemed to be in a particularly buoyant mood, laughing loudly at something Yonatan, looking smug, had just said.

"I have to get ready now," Ze’ev said reluctantly to me. "But I will see you after the show." His eyes held mine and no words were needed for him to convey what he was feeling. He kissed me again, leaving every nerve in my body singing.

“Come on, Asher,” he said and they left to go backstage and prepare for the concert.

Nurit smiled at me and said in her usual thoughtful way:

"He really seems to like you, Aviva."

I felt a hot flash spread through my entire body and lit up a cigarette to try to mask the excitement coursing through my veins.

I sat through the concert spellbound and did not take my eyes off Ze'ev for even a second. It was so different watching him this time. He seemed so self-assured when he sang and there was an air of contained energy about him that made me want the audience to disappear so we could be alone and I could to leap up onto the stage and take him in my arms. The concert seemed to pass much more slowly this time, but maybe that was because I was anxious for it to be over so that Ze'ev would kiss me again. On the other hand I couldn’t get enough of watching him on stage, his voice starting to become more familiar to me, his movements tantalizing my senses.

When it was finally over we went back stage and as soon we entered the dressing room Yonatan slapped Asher on the back and told him what a great job they'd done. Asher gave him a bear-hug and thanked him.

“It felt great to be out there,” he said animatedly. “The audience was awesome.”

Ze'ev was in the shower and when he came out of the bathroom wearing black jeans and a dark grey t-shirt, his hair wet, he came straight over to me and almost as if we had an unspoken prior agreement we put our arms around each other and kissed long and deep. His face was still damp from the shower and he smelled of soap. Again I had the feeling of not wanting to let go of him, ever. Everything around me ceased to exist.

When we finally drew apart we looked into each other’s eyes and he whispered: "Let's go."

We said a quick goodbye to our friends and left the club via a back door. We walked quickly through several dark side streets and soon we were heading for the sea.

When we reached the Tayelet we walked close together but did not touch, as if neither of us dared to be the first to initiate contact now that we were finally alone. The sea was very calm, the waves lapping the shore with a soft rustle of shells. Even though it was not exactly warm out I felt like my coat was smothering me. The sense of animated suspension that I felt made my scalp tingle; my senses were entirely dominated by Ze’ev’s nearness. Neither of us said anything and we both seemed intent on reaching Jaffa, a good twenty minutes walk away. When we reached the periphery of the old city, still on the Tayelet, we started to sit down on one of the benches placed there to be able to enjoy the breath-taking view of Tel Aviv. As soon as we were both sitting down we were in each other’s arms and when his lips met mine I lost myself in him, surrendering to the feelings that had been hovering on the edge of my consciousness all week. I felt like I would drown in his kiss never to recover.