“What’s this madness I am hearing?” my father says when I pick up. “Do you really know what you’re doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“The hell you don’t.”
“Don’t you dad me. I have been preparing this for long. Do you think you’d be the one to ruin everything? Are you forgetting who you are? Have you lost your mind?”
Dad’s salvo of questions bomb barded me like artillery shells; rapid fire at the rate of ten canons per minute. He was not giving me time to breath.
Well, he was in one of his moods, courtesy of me (his beloved scoundrel daughter). Walking out on him from a meeting he was chairing was one thing, threatening him with an expose of his dark and secret life was totally different, unacceptable. For a man with a dream (like that of Martin Luther King, Jr.) of creating a Jewish world was something he could not allow.
I might say I understood him, but why in the process of chasing his elusive dream should people die? What in the hell!
“Dad, I’m sorry…”
“The hell you are!” he snaps.
I take a long, deep breathe before saying, “Lying to me all my life I can understand, you were protecting me, dad. But what I can’t understand is you enrolling me in to a secret society I don’t know what the hell you do. And no, dad. I’m not the one to ruin everything for you, you are; no, I haven’t forgotten who I am, you have, and no, dad, my mind is right here with me…”
“Yasmine, don’t you walk down that path. It’s the untrodden path to damnation.”
“What you gonna do, dad. What you gonna do? Let loose your hounds on me? Let your underdogs hunt me like game and kill me? I don’t think so…”
“You have got no idea what you are getting yourself into. I tried to warn you…”
“Perhaps you didn’t try hard enough.”
There was a long pause, time I thought he had hung up, before he said, “You are very important to this cause, Yasmine. You have got to see the bigger picture…”
“No, you have got to see the downside of this. Do you ever think of what will happen when your plan fails…?”
“If, Yasmine. If the plan fails…”
“There is no room for failure. We are the chosen people, Yasmine, God’s Chosen people. Remember the ways of our people. We were chosen a long time ago. Yakub, Yitzak and Yibrahim. Over the years that which is rightfully ours has been taken. We’ve been humiliated. We need to take the world back; God gave it to us…”
“That’s where you are wrong, dad. The world is too big an adversary to fight. Leave that to that God of yours. Just in case you don’t know, I stopped believing a long time ago, so don’t drag me into your stupid causes…”
“I hoped I could talk sense into that stubborn head of yours…”
“Sorry I disappoint you, dad.”
“Yes, you better be.”
I think to myself, what the heck? Who does dad think he is? I am a grown up for jove’s sake, well into my thirties. I left his auspices a long time ago.
I gathered all my guts where I had dropped them and braced myself for the decision I have been mulling over. “Dad, I’m quitting. Yedioth Ahronoth and GEVIN Technologies…”
He does not even think about it. “No, my dear Yasmine. You are not quitting. You are fired. Security is picking you up now to escort you to the airport…”
I do not wait for him to finish what he is saying. I start saying something but it’s swallowed by heavy pounding on my front door. How dare he. It is my house…
Just as my father’s goons crash in, I make a startling discovery – I’m being deported (force majeure).