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upstairs from me and had a key to my flat, in case I lost mine; sometimes when I wasn’t home he went inside and waited for me. I was on friendly terms with everyone in my building: my legless and maddening neighbor Volvo, who had moved into the small one-room flat adjacent to ours shortly after Daniel left; Jacky, former rock star and prince of the city; Tanya, former prostitute, now a successful fortune-teller; and Tanya’s mother. Benny lived on the top floor, next to two large flats that had remained empty for as long as anyone could remember because of some dispute that had been tied up in the courts for decades.
    Benny was a restless, impatient person. He drove a taxi, and lately he’d been struggling to make ends meet; the tourist industry had nearly vanished and the collapsing economy affected everyone. On the other hand more people were taking taxis because they were afraid of being blown up on a bus. That helped a little, but not enough.
    Benny had other worries, too. He had a very emotional relationship with his ex-wife Miriam. The two of them still fought and still had sex, behind her boyfriend’s back. He hated her and loved her and couldn’t rid himself of his desire for her. He vowed to quit smoking and he vowed to stop seeing Miriam, but he hadn’t had much success with either plan.
    He was burly and hairy, though in recent years he’d started balding, much to his dismay. His real age was forty-one, but he liked to tell people he was thirty-five. He did repairs in my flat, bought me small practical gifts like coat hooks, and worried about my safety. Often he gave me long, mournful lectures about my political views, trying to explain, patiently and hopelessly, why I was wrong to help and trust the enemy. He pitied the Palestinians too—but their miserable situation wasn’t our fault. It was their fault, because they had terrible leaders and because they hated us and would never accept us and because they would always want all the land, including our State. And for the past seventy years they’d been trying to kill us; even before the State was founded they’d already started with their wild attacks, plunging knives into women and children, slicing off their heads.
    At other times he spoke just as mournfully and hopelessly about Miriam. He worried that she was neglecting their children; he didn’t trust her new boyfriend. A self-centered pig, he said, who was drawing Miriam away from the children, and she was too blind to grasp what was going on. What she saw in that poor excuse for a human being, that petty crook who was born with his brain in his arse and his nose in other people’s arses, he would never know. Benny was a devoted father, and sometimes when I walked along the seashore with my jeans rolled up to my knees I’d see him sitting Buddha-style on a blanket, surrounded by his four small children. One would ride on his broad shoulders while the others poured sand over his crossed legs or triedto impress him with their acrobatics. He’d grin at me from the midst of his clan, but he’d never invite me to join him.
    “Benny, I’m too tired for a visit today, I’m worn out from the demo.” I took off my shoes and flopped down on my bed.
    He sighed. “Why, why, why do you do these things? Where were you, anyhow?” He sat down at the edge of the bed.
    I told him about the demonstration. It had not been reported on the news, he didn’t know it had taken place.
    “The last place on earth I would want to be, the last thing on earth I would want to do,” he said, shaking his head.
    “I’m sure there are a zillion things you would want to do even less,” I said. “Swallowing a live cockroach. Getting into a booth full of scorpions. Shooting a child.”
    “You have an answer for everything.” He sighed again. “So I can’t stay? I just had another visit from Miriam, I need someone sane to talk to.”
    “I’m sure I’m as messed up as Miriam. Come back later, I’m going to