And in the evenings, we'd all have dinner together and watch the nightly news. He no longer had to get up so early in the morning. When I was nine, my father got a new job. And here's another one where under my faded sweatpants hide gills which allow me to breathe under water like a fish. Only in this universe, instead of a Silver Peugeot, we are riding a dragon. Here we are in the parallel universe waiting at the exact same intersection for the light to change. And this difference Dad would change every morning, changing the one detail in the parallel universe that differed from ours. It's still dark as we sit in our Silver Peugeot 504, the windows rolled down, Dad smoking Kent 100s and describing parallel universes that exist at this very moment in other dimensions- universes where everything is precisely identical to ours- same road, same traffic light, same cigarette in the corner of Dad's mouth- all except for one tiny difference. I don't remember anything of those morning swims, but the car rides with Dad are crystal clear. Seeing this, my mother suggested I go with him every morning to the pool, have a swim together, and take a cab to school from there. Six-year-old children can't really imagine a different world for themselves, one where their father had more time for them. And other than Saturdays when I'd go off to visit him at the pool with my mom, I never saw him at all. When Dad came back from work, I was already in bed. Coffee, cigarettes, and the sea were always my father's three favorite things.įor me, those days were not quite as happy. Years later, Dad always said those were the best days of his life, fondly remembering how the salty air blowing in from the sea would mix in his lungs with the smell of the coffee and the imported cigarettes he used to sell at the bar. 14 hours a day, 7 days a week unloading boxes of soft drinks, dressing toasted sandwiches, brewing coffee in gleaming glasses at the pool snack bar up by the beach. Every day at 5:30 in the morning he'd leave home for the pool, swim 2 kilometers, shower in the locker room, and get to work. When I was six years old, my dad worked at a pool snack bar not far from one of Tel Aviv's beaches.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |