The boy was crying.
Zohar found it difficult to get the boy
alone, but when he did, he asked about his parents in Israel. The boy pouted for a moment, and when Zohar fed
him the beginning of the story of Yossi Kushner. The boy began to wail.
“Please,
please,” Zohar pleaded. “Keep it down.”
Through curtains of tears, Yossi elaborated on the tale of his abduction, of being
ferreted away from his parent’s on the kibbutz and taken to Holland, to live with his grandparents. Details of the story were wrong. Zohar imagined the boy was confused.
“What
kibbutz? Do you know the name?”
The
boy did not. Zohar searched the case
file in his head to collaborate the information in his mind with the story he
had just been told. He was translating
from Yiddish to Hebrew and back again as he scrolled through reassembled
documents for dates, places, names. His
mind grew muddled and dark.
“Do
you want to go back to your parents in Israel?”
“Yes…
yes…” the boy cried.
“Do
you want me to take you?”
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