“Today I am going to the villa “Laguna”, Yaroshka, to do the cleaning there.
“No, of course I’m with you, Maayan.”
“Okay, let’s go then.”
Igal, the owner of the villa, saw us and showed the door to the fenced off and canopy part of the courtyard and said:
“There was a diving club here, but the business has recently fallen into disrepair and I recently sold all the equipment to the Indians.”
Indeed, the walled off room was empty.
He pulled out a large vacuum cleaner from the territory of the former diving club, and my son and I enthusiastically began to clean the artificial turf in the yard.
“Maayan, Igal said that today there are many arrivals and it will be necessary to prepare several more for the arrival of guests.
“Good!” – I said and began to put things in order in the next cleaning object – room number 1.
Less than ten minutes later, Igal arrived.
“Guys, we have a problem. There is a suspicion that inspection may come after one in the afternoon.
It is necessary that when they come, none of the workers are here. Finish cleaning here, and let the rest of the rooms remain uncleaned.
And I will inform the clients not to come …
Well, unfortunately, I can’t get through to them, no one picks up the phone.” ― and with these words Igal, having run through the villa for several circles in search of the car keys, finally found them and left.
“Why are they so afraid of this inspection? I don’t understand. But nevertheless, if that’s the case, let’s go, Yaron.”
“Yes, of course, Maayan. You know, today Yigal told me a lot of some rather strange information.”
“Not about the severed head, I hope?”
“No. About the Indians. He said that they were staying at the villa and as a sign of friendship between them and their Jewish brothers, they gave him some kind of lion and juices with herbs.
And Karina (the manager of Laguna), it turns out, also came from India.”
Imperceptibly Thursday came next week, when there was work again at the “Laguna.”
“How are you, Yaron? How are you getting settled? Do you have clothes, do you, mother?”
“Well, she doesn’t walk naked.” – the son shocked him a little with his answer.
“Yaron, were you really so hungry when you first came here?”
“Yes, it was true, as well as the fact that our entire budget at the moment is 80 shekels.”
“I would like to help you. I can offer you cleaning my house once a week.
There work at least 6-8 hours.” – he said.
“That would be great!” – answered the son.
“Okay, we’ll come back to this conversation later.”
Then the traditional game of the evil inspector who was already on his way began again at the villa. Now Karin was actively involved in her, who for some reason went and turned on the TVs in all rooms, saying that this would harmonize the space and the inspector would be more benevolent. Igal left again.
“Yaron, I really want you to take the courses that I found for you every day, I ask you to seriously take up your studies.” – I said to my son when we returned home.
But literally a couple of minutes later the phone rang.
“Maayan, this is Igal, he is here and asks if we are at home.”
“Yaron, it turns out, he called us several times already. I see three missed calls from him.”
Entering, the owner of the villa first of all looked into our refrigerator.
“Large refrigerator and wardrobe, in general, yours is pretty cozy,” he said, sitting down on a chair.
My son and I looked at him in bewilderment. There was a moment of strange silence.
“Maybe some tea or coffee?” – I asked hesitantly.
“No thanks. I wanted to say that the situation in the villa worries me a lot. I think that this is some kind of intrigue of competitors and I need a trusted person who could do the cleaning there on a regular basis. In a few months I would raise him salary for a couple of thousand.”
“Yes, this offer is interesting for us. We could have vegan breakfasts or yoga classes there.” – suggested the son.
“Yes, it is possible. And you also wanted to sell a voucher for clothes? So we will assume that I am buying it. Here’s 400 shekels, 100 I will add later. Only I don’t need a coupon, you better really use it.” – he said before leaving, taking money from his wallet.
On Friday around noon we went to the “Shuk”, which was soon to close on Shabbat and open only on Sunday morning. A new surprise awaited us there.
The first thing that surprised us was that not one, but two guards were standing near the entrance to the store. In addition to the usually cheerful Peruvian Miguel, who worked that day, there was another Hungarian Peter, who was supposed to rest.
Contrary to his custom, Peter was dressed in some kind of house clothes, all stained with cat hair.
He looked as if he had just jumped out of bed and he was clearly annoyed by something.
“Something is strange here …” – said the son.
The same woman who told us about the teeth found in the burekas worked at the checkout counter. And there were several people standing near the cash register, who were busy checking checks, because almost all the goods were sold by the cashier with an error.
I stood in line to the cashier, and my son approached the Hungarian to find out what had happened and why he had come.
“Strange, stupid and disgusting story” – said Peter.
“I was asleep after my night shift when this woman cashier from the store called me.
I have a day off today and I decided to sleep well after the night shift, but she began to scream heart-rendingly into the phone that something terrible was happening in the store.
I didn’t even understand what exactly happened, I only realized that Miguel was not coping and my help was also needed.
I grabbed a pistol and ran out into the street, without even closing the door of my own apartment and running out into the middle of the roadway, began to hail a taxi.
Taxi drivers, seeing a man with a pistol in his hand and a worried expression on his face, were in no hurry to stop. One of them then all the same slowed down for a minute and that was enough, I pulled the door, climbed into the car and shouted:
“Let’s go quickly!”
“Where to go then? What happened? Why are you so disheveled?” – asked the taxi driver.
“Something terrible happened in the store, my help is urgently needed, go quickly,” I said to the taxi driver, not letting go of the pistol.
“Okay, guy. Just calm down and don’t wave your revolver, it makes me nervous. I’ll take you where you want and even for free. See the speed on the speedometer drops to a hundred, and we’re driving along narrow streets” ― the driver replied.
When we stopped near the store and I and the taxi driver saw that nothing special was happening there.
“You lied to me, you were in a hurry just because you were late for duty and wanted to sleep longer, you were just too lazy to get your fat ass off the couch early and you were afraid to get a scolding from the chef. You deceived me, this is mean, let’s then 30 shekels instead 25 on the counter. You are just a lazy and idiot, come out, you are disgusting to me.” – the taxi driver told me and it was very unpleasant.” – the guard complained.
“Yeah! Yaron, the Hungarian is usually not inclined to come up with anything, but let’s still ask Miguel what exactly happened here.”
But when we approached the Peruvian, who was sitting with rolling eyes, half falling out of his guard chair, we realized that he was unlikely to clarify the picture of what had happened and that it was indeed non-trivial.
“It’s good that they didn’t call me, but Peter, he was unlucky. But I don’t understand what happened” ― Miguel said.
On Saturday, Shabbat, when I was cleaning the apartment in the Lev Eilat complex, when I saw Yaron through the open door, a short man called him and asked:
“Have you seen if someone without a head washed the floors here?”
“No, I haven’t seen it,” the son replied.
“Although it is possible that there are not so few of them …” – we thought later.