The Fifteenth Representative by Hilla Dagan (fiction novels to read .TXT) 📕

“Okay… so, I guess I’ll see you back in Israel?”

“God willing.”

I slept like the dead on the flight.

We landed in Zurich. There were only three planes around—including ours. Once, I had to wait almost a whole hour for a bus to take us to the exit in Ben Gurion Airport. You may not believe me, but I peed on the bus while they kept us waiting. We weren’t allowed out and my bladder practically burst. I got off the bus and asked the security guards to let me pee in the bushes for a moment, but they wouldn’t let me. So, fine. I got back onto the bus, sat on the back seat, and filled the bus with some of the best of myself. Such a nerve. A forty minute flight only to have to wait for over an hour to get from the plane to the airport? Is this Greece?

In Greece I once waited six hours to an Olympus airline plane, for a flight from Mykonos to Athens. I had a night at the Hilton in Athens. Thanks to the ridiculous boredom, I actually spoke for over two hours—from a payphone—to one of the hotel’s clerks, trying to get some kind of compensation. Arriving at a hotel like that for nothing more than a couple of hours because of incompetent Greek pilots who only work half of the year anyway, since we all know that the entirety of Greece is built on tourism and olive oil. I had to pay one-hundred-and-twenty dollars for those few hours, since I would have been kicked out at noon the next day regardless. Olive oil is healthy and essential, and it’s used year round, however, sun comes for only four-or-so months. I eventually managed to get the presidential suite, and I slept like a queen. And there were no mosquitoes like in our country.

In the south of France, close to Rocamadour, a police car stopped next to me right as I was peeing. I don’t understand those people. I was peeing next to a sign that said deer were crossing and to exercise caution. The deer pee all the time, don’t they? Well, we’re no animals. We’re worse. Animals don’t kill their kinsmen—we do.

All this didn’t take from the fact that I didn’t eat in that presidential suite, but went down to eat at the hotel’s restaurant, paying more than one-hundred dollars for the meal.

I once drank coffee sitting down instead of standing up in Rome, next to the Spanish Steps, paying ten times the price to have simply taken it to go.

What am I, a horse?

Next you’ll leave me a bowl on the floor with your old coffee and I’ll kneel down to drink it. Marvelous.

One cashier in Superpharm, making you wait for thirty minutes, suddenly seems like a right luxury.

I got in the taxi that would take me to the Deutsche bank off the Hardtrasse St. in Zurich.

The drive went by peacefully. It also cost three times as much as a cab in Israel would.

I really the bank. Just let it go smoothly. I still had to get through customs when I got back to Israel.

I been through things that would mean a much more severe punishment. Besides, it’s in bills of ten thousand. How thick can it be?

“Hello, I need to reach the vaults, please,” I said.

“Wait here, if you would.”

I got out the key Eran gave me.

A couple of minutes later the candidate arrived with the second key.

We went to the floor below and made our way to the vaults. I twisted the key in the lock. The kind Swiss with me looked more Tunisian than Swiss… half the banks in Europe didn’t exactly belong to the Europeans, anyway.

He opened the safe then took his leave.

Four-hundred and something bills waited in the safe. That was it. fifteen-million shekels.

It fit in my purse—so help me. I’ll keep it glued to my legs. I’ll put some in the soles of my shoes. I needed tape. And a penknife. I had until tomorrow morning. I’ll even add some bills to my bra cups. The shock of something like that would keep people from noticing anything. This time I’ll play it shy, not bold. It always melts the security and border patrol people. They were used to wisecrackers.

I had to eat something. I had the day to site-see. A stole around Zurich—what could be wrong with something like that?

I’ll find a bar or someplace nice on the Limmat. Zurich is built rather low. Occasionally there’s a skyscraper. I can see the point to those who resist high-rising buildings, saying how the skyscrapers take over the sky. After they return from New-York they can’t stop talking about Manhattan’s skyline. And it is impressive. Long of the short of it is that everyone wants what he doesn’t have.

Ah, there’s the frame building. What can I tell you? It’s not the most impressive architecture marvel. Definitely not after seeing the Sydney Opera House. two square buildings with the points touching on one side. Azrieli is more impressive. More unique, too. We have a circle, triangle, and rectangle. Here’s there’s nothing but simple squares. Azrieli is taller, I’m pretty sure. I think. Yes. Yes, I’m sure.

I passed by a statue of a dreidel laying on its side. We really did have a miracle occur here…

“Here you go, ma’am. We’ve arrived.”

“Excuse me, are you free?”

That was unlike Swiss people to barge into a barely stopped cab—especially when a lady was coming out.

“Wait a moment, I’m letting the lady out.”

What was that pervert looking at?

“Hey, watch it. One more second and you’d have on the ground,” I said.

I figured he was in a right rush. The cab sped away, its lights disappearing in the distance. Ouch. That idiot bumped my shoulder hard.

Okay… wait. Where is my purse? Oh my god, I’m going to pass out—where’s my purse? Oh god, oh god.

He took my purse. With the money. I can’t