A Surprise Visit

Below is the seventh segment of my new short story—’A Surprise Visit’—never before published.

“My parents, how are they doing?” she asked.
“Your father is worried. He reminded me of your birthday when he gave me your address. Wanted to send you some eggs and cheese, too.”

Noa chuckled, in spite of herself, spitting smoke. “They are still angry, I know.”
“Bitter, maybe, like all the veterans. Seeing how the bourgeoisie destroying their back-to-earth revolution.”
“And blaming their children for it,” she said. “Worse than here in the big city, if you ask me.”

She dropped her cigarette in disgust into the empty bottle of wine. They both watched in silence, befogged by memories, as the smoke searched for an escape first, serpent-like, then swirled up and free into the air.
“What about Gali?”

A shudder ran through Beni’s back, as if a current of electricity had shocked him suddenly. She noticed that and raised her eyes at him, asking, “Still there?”
“Yes… keeping the flame burning.”
“I heard the two of you became… I don’t know, real good friends in the army.”
“Stories,” he said, averting his eyes away from hers. “We haven’t spoken to each other since second grade.”

She giggled, enjoying it, though she knew otherwise. “He intends on staying there, deep in the cream pit?”
“Of course. Who will plow the fields if not him?”
“Not him, I’m sure,” she said. “And anyhow, there are hardly any fields there anymore.”
“There are, don’t exaggerate. Some fields, many factories.”

She raised her hand to his neck, still lying on the floor with her head on his thigh. She drew his head closer, as if to kiss him, but instead she just looked at him deeply for a moment, before whispering, “Will you stay the night?”

He just looked at her; not entirely surprised, yet unresponsive. She kissed his lips tenderly. “You were my first, Beni, you always will be.”

Before he had a chance to respond, or hide his discomfort, she was up on her feet. First, she lit a pink candle on her nightstand, which was just an old cardboard box. She then searched among the records lying disorderly by the wall, and quickly showed him what she’d found, a wide smile spreading on her radiant face. She placed the small 45 record on an old turntable resting on the floor beside her bed, and turned it on.

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