Free The Masada Faktor by Naomi Litvin Page A

families come for their loved ones.
     
    Walking north along the beach, I stopped to turn around to see Jaffa in the distance and that beautiful clock tower lit up like a beacon against the cloudy sky. The sand beneath my feet was warm in contrast to the sudden coolness of the breeze that only an hour ago chafed my skin with its searing heat.
     
    I thought about what most Israelis were doing this night. The mother lighting Shabbat candles, the father saying a Kiddush prayer over the wine, and the moitze blessing for the braided challah bread which was torn off in clumps and dipped in salt right on the tablecloth. The family singing songs in Hebrew. I felt left out. Alone. But I had the Sea. The crashing waves were my family.
     
    I didn’t have time to be lonely. I had to stay focused on the tasks at hand. I kept going over Absalom’s instructions for me at Masada and wondering if he had something to do with Tajir. I had told him nothing about my experiences with the German Arab.
     
    I walked down the beach from the Dolphinarium south to the big rocks toward Jaffa, then turned around about halfway, and came back up the promenade toward Gordon Beach.
     
    Suddenly I heard the lifeguard on the microphone haranguing the swimmers who were venturing too far out. Then I heard shouting and saw many people running toward the water. A swimmer was being pulled out. The other beach goers had dropped everything to help.
     
    I continued up the promenade to Frishman, stopped at the health food store, and went back to my place to eat. After a long and luxurious shower, I turned on the air conditioning, laid down, and fell into a deep sleep.

    The air was cooler than yesterday which was the hottest and most humid that I had experienced since being here. There was a slight breeze today but it was still very humid.
     
    I was near Shenkin Street doing some window shopping for shoes when I saw a small, thick, brown spider on a pair of blue and white striped, canvas Paez shoes. Standing by the window, I was mesmerized by the spider’s slow movement.
     
    Feeling someone tapping me on the shoulder, I jumped and turned around. It was a Filipino caregiver smiling widely at me. He said hello in English. His charge was sitting on a bench nearby. We began a conversation about life in Tel Aviv.
     
    “How long have you been here?” I was staring at him, and wondering more than I was asking.
     
    “Three years.” He was staring back, with a smile.
     
    “How long will you stay?” I was intrigued by the foreign workers in Israel.
     
    “As long as my patient is alive. More men are doing care giving jobs lately,” he said. “In my country I was a registered nurse.” It was a pleasant conversation, as he spoke excellent English.
     
    When they left, I looked back into the window at the Paez shoes. The spider was still there and it was moving faster than before. Unexpectedly, I felt the vertigo coming. I hurried to move into the shade under a loggia on the side of the shop. I sat down on a small bench and closed my eyes.
     
    The same Filipino was gently shaking me. It seemed that I had dozed off and he looked concerned about me. As I looked up at him I noticed that he had beautiful, big brown eyes, dark creamy skin, and soft lips.
     
    “What happened?” He had an anxious look and was helping me to my feet.
     
    “I am not sure why but I have been getting dizzy. I have seen a doctor but he didn’t know why I am having vertigo.” I was just blabbing and staring at him. I looked around and saw that we were completely alone and I touched his cheek.
     
    He looked intensely into my eyes, “May I kiss you, just one time, on your lips?”
     
    I was astonished that I found him attractive, a turn-on in itself. I couldn’t speak, and nodded my head. The kiss was so much more than I expected, as it was long and deep and gentle.
     
    Before I knew it my shorts were down and his fingers were moving very fast in my panties and I was groaning with