High Chicago

CHAPTER 49

He had loved her from the moment he met her at Har Milah. An awkward sweaty kid from Chicago with thick glasses and a mulish laugh, he was immediately struck by her grace, her beauty, her bright blue eyes and mass of black curls. He'd been too shy to approach her as a lover and had settled for being a pal, but each day spent near her, with her, persuaded him he was inching closer to his dream. One more day, he'd tell himself, one more night of singing and laughing and dreaming together, and she'd be his.

"Then you showed up," Avi said, pointing my own gun at me. "Jonah Geller, fit and funny, not an ounce of fat on you, not a wrong move. You didn't sweat just getting out of bed. You were even from her hometown. And from then on, I had to watch the two of you together, holding hands, stealing kisses, sneaking out to the greenhouse. Stealing her from me by the hour."

"This is all fascinating," Simon Birk said. "Maybe you should save it for your memoirs."

Avi swivelled, put the gun on Birk.

"Or not," Birk said.

"Hanging out with the two of you, going to the concert, into Kiryat Shmona, a happy little trio, right? Except I was dying inside. I remember David Broza singing 'Yihyeh Tov' at Masada, and we all had our arms around each other. I finally had my arm around Dalia, and she had hers around me, and it didn't matter how much I was sweating because we were all soaked through from dancing all night. It would have been perfect, but you were there on her other side. I looked over and she had her hand in the back pocket of your jeans. Fucking feeling your ass. Not me, not mine, no, just her hand on my waist. Barely touching it, like she was my sister. I hated you, Jonah. I wanted to pitch you off the side of the goddamn mountain, the way the zealots threw themselves off at the end of the siege."

"But she died, Avi. You were there when she died. You saw what-"

"Maybe she wouldn't have!" he yelled. "Maybe we would have left Har Milah and come back to Chicago and I could have been married to her instead of Adele."

"Don't do this," I said. I took a step toward him but he stepped back and told me to stay where I was.

"So I get Adele instead. She lives from headache to headache. Music's too loud? A headache. One of the kids cries? A headache. A glass of wine, the lights too bright, the lights too dim-a headache. And God forbid Avi wants a little action. Major headache time."

"You going to shoot me, Avi?"

"No. But someone will."

Curry said, "The line starts here."

"He'll kill you too," I said to Avi. "Curry will kill all of us."

"I don't think so," he said. "Not with my insurance policy." He patted his coat pocket.

"Why don't you give me one of the guns?" Curry said. "Doesn't have to be mine. Keep that if it makes you feel better."

"I don't think so," Avi said.

"The girl down there, she has a gun too."

"I'll deal with her when we get down there. I think she'll give up her gun before she lets Jonah get shot."

"Have it your way," Curry said. "You ready?"

"Yes."

"You, Simon?"

Birk said yes.

We all walked over to the side of the building where the hoist waited.

"There's just one more thing to do before we go down," Curry said.

"What?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He just grabbed Simon Birk by the shirt collar and belt and threw him screaming off the side of the building.