The Masada Faktor (9 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I
was still active on social media sites, especially Twitter. There was a new person named Absalom who followed me and I reciprocated by following him back. He began to send direct messages both on Twitter and Facebook which normally I do not like to receive from strangers. I don’t know why but I felt okay with allowing his correspondence to me in private.

Absalom was interested in what I had tweeted regarding my life in Israel, and very helpful, but from the beginning I sensed sexual innuendo. I was throwing caution to the wind in many areas of my life so I let it slide.

It was quite unexpected the way my Twitter connection with Absalom was evolving. He had been so sweet and responsive to my questions about living in Israel, as he said he was also living in Israel. I can remember at what point exactly that his private tweets became blatantly sexual. It started out with a discussion about why a certain guy on Twitter wouldn’t tweet to me.

Natasha: “… and by the way the reason he doesn’t tweet to me is because he thinks I would get off on it. And he is punishing me by not tweeting.”

Absalom: “Do you? It would be good to know how to talk dirty to you. Some verbal foreplay.”

Natasha: “No, any response from him is not a turn-on, more the opposite.”

Absalom: “I miss you when we don’t chat for a day or so. Oh by the way, your other friend has a mini pini.”

Natasha: “What is that?”

Absalom: “Tiny penis. But I am not afflicted by that.”

Natasha: “I see, said the blind man.”

Absalom: “Blindness doesn’t affect my sense of touch. Or yours. You are one good looking lady, as I have noticed from your Twitter pics.”

Natasha: “Older women okay with you?”

Absalom: “Hell yeah. I am very attracted. I prefer mature, older women. How are you with younger men?”

Natasha: “In a fantasy world, I do like younger men.”

Absalom: “Mutual feelings, mutual fantasy.”

At that point I changed the subject. I would change the subject a lot when his comments became shockingly sexual.

Eventually, I didn’t change the subject. It was perverted. I felt responsible for allowing it. I should have ended it. Instead, I encouraged it and lied to myself as to why. I was hooked.

After some time he told me he had a message for me concerning my mission in Israel. I thought about that, as yes, I had said a lot of things on Twitter but I knew that I never spoke about The Masada Faktor and wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

At that time, The Masada Faktor was in the back of my mind as I was too busy enjoying Tel Aviv. There was no way he could be involved in The Masada Faktor, could he? I doubted that, it was just too obscure.

But then Absalom said that I must go to Masada and specifically named five locations that I must see to search for clues to my mission. I asked him where he got his information but he replied that it was a reliable source and it was important.

I was alarmed at that point since he actually named Masada as where I should be going. Then, as I didn’t want the cybersex to end, I told myself that Absalom knew something about The Masada Faktor and I had to do what was required to get the information. The truth? I was aroused by his attention and sexuality which felt very real. And I didn’t want it to end.

Sometimes he acted like a good friend. We’d chat about laundry or learning Hebrew. I had the distinct feeling there were at least two people involved in this Absalom character. It was because of the difference between when he was being a friend and when he was sexual.

I asked him if he knew anyone from Haifa and he said no. At one point I unfollowed him so that he could not direct message me, which was a requirement on Twitter. But then I followed him again.

It had become my compulsion. He absolutely refused to tell me who he was. I was taking a huge risk that would come back to bite me. And I didn’t care.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I
t had been a blistering, hot, and humid day in Tel Aviv. It cooled off as the sun began to set but the Sea was warm, so warm that people were still in the water after
Shabbat
began.

The beach was full of Filipinas with their families. They are the care takers of a large percentage of the Israeli elder population, their work permits registered under their patient’s name. When their patient dies, their work permit becomes invalid. They are usually off on
Shabbat
when the elders’ 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 pleasure. Then I slid my panties off and he was down south sucking on my clitoris.

I felt an orgasm blasting through my body and then more vertigo as the darkness enveloped me. I think I passed out for only a few minutes. When I awoke my panties and shorts were on me and he was gone. I went into the shoe store and bought the Paez shoes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I
t was time for me to go to Masada, which was built by King Herod in the ancient Roman East style. It is the most complete, surviving, ancient Rome siege system on the planet. The Jewish freedom fighters of Masada had the last fortification there against the Romans.

The fall of the Second Temple period in 70 CE, was a critical point that marked the catastrophic end of the Judean kingdom. The tragedy of Masada was marked by the Jews’ decision to commit mass suicide, rather than be subjected to rape and murder or slavery by the Romans. The Jewish struggle against oppression became a symbol that all people would relate to.

I was upset about going to Masada alone, as I thought I had a date to meet Saul, a good online and telephone friend for many years. We had established that we would be in Israel concurrently and we were to finally meet. I told Saul I was going to Masada for the first time.

Saul had agreed to meet me and I felt a little buzz of anticipation that possibly he and I would hit it off. I was still open to a relationship and Saul was Jewish and seemed so masculine and caring. But then I received an email at the last moment canceling. Fine, I thought, I can do this alone.

It was 7:00 A.M. on Friday and I hoped to be back in Tel Aviv before sundown for
Shabbat
. The tour company was thirty minutes late picking me up from the Dan Hotel on Hayarkon and Frishman. I had chosen to go with a group for safety reasons. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t pick me up at all. I was feeling a familiar negativity and musing about Murphy’s Law.

Yes, if anything can go wrong, it will, especially after my broken computer, cracked camera viewing screen, smart phone problems, three moves, and to top it off, $10,000 lost between banks in California and Haifa, due to a wire transfer snafu. I thought, yeah, the old military slang acronym was appropriate here. Situation Normal: All Fouled Up. How the hell could I be documenting my time in the Middle East without a computer?

I heard my name being yelled in a loud accented voice, and spotted the large tour bus across the street. Climbing up into the bus I saw a variety of typical tourists interspersed among the half empty bus. I chose a window seat in the second row. I closed my eyes and felt the sun coming in and out of the clouds as it created a light show behind my eyelids.

It was to be a cloudy, hot, and humid day at the Dead Sea. 39 Celsius. I still didn’t know the metric conversions, chiding myself for not paying attention to those lessons in high school, and honestly not remembering it ever being taught. I checked my smart phone for the conversion and saw that it was to be over 102 degrees Fahrenheit.

While ruminating this information, the tour guide began his dramatically obnoxious monologue in Spanish, as I now realized that the folks on my bus were from South America. A few of us were Anglos, so he repeated the information in English. I was expecting a big headache from this annoyance.

Masada is on a plateau on the eastern edge of the Judean Desert near the Dead Sea, which is also known as the Salt Sea. It is located near the beautiful Ein Gedi oasis which was discovered over 5,000 years ago.

After about an hour we began ascending the Judean Mountains via Jerusalem and at the altitude of about 2,600 feet we needed to stop at a few more hotels to pick up some additional tourists. Then we would descend to the Dead Sea, the lowest place on earth at 1,300 feet.

The guide explained that 280 million trees were planted in between the rocks in Israel in the last one hundred years. We could see what he described on both sides of the highway. There was some construction going on that slowed traffic and we were told that the road to Jerusalem was being widened from the west.

We finally arrived at Masada and all loaded into the cable car that would take us up on the east side of the mountain in three minutes via Road 90. It was too hot to reach the top walking up the Snake Path, although we saw people hiking the Siege Ramp path, which would take them a minimum of forty-five minutes.

…one of these ways is called the Serpent, as resembling that animal in its narrowness and its perpetual windings…and that he that would walk along it, must first go on the one leg and then the other; there is also nothing but destruction in case your feet slip, for on each side there is a vastly deep chasm and precipice sufficient to quell the courage of everybody by the terror it infuses into the mind.”
Josephus Flavius

There was also an alternative ramp path on the west via Arad. The cable car was crowded, feeling hot and sticky as we ascended. I was claustrophobic and was breathing heavily as I looked down to the Snake Path and the Dead Sea, amazed at how high up we were.

We piled out and people were chattering in Spanish. That just irked me, considering that I had come all the way from California where Spanish was heard everywhere you went. The hell with diversity. I wanted to hear Hebrew.

I had decided that I would, indeed, look for the clues to the mystery that Absalom has indicated were important. He had named five locations out of many at Masada that I should go to. I had no idea what the clues were meant to be and hoped that this would be the end of this wild goose chase. I cursed Saul for canceling. I had hoped he would help me.

I learned a fact that moved me. The guide told us that all Israeli Defense Force soldiers go to Masada and take an important oath.

Never again Masada. Masada shall never fall again
.

The tour was poignant and I was interested in seeing everything. King Herod had built Masada as a stronghold for himself and his family. Seventy years after Herod had died, the Jewish Zealots, last of the rebels who fled from the Roman invasion of Jerusalem, ran to Masada. This would be their final hold out, for three years after the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE.

I had a strange feeling, I felt spooked. Something was vexing to me. It was about the number seventy,
shevim
in Hebrew. Then, as if a bolt of lightning went through my entire body, it hit me. It had been seventy years since Hitler died. The realization of the mystery about Hitler’s obsession came to me both in piercing sunlight and crashing waves.

The puzzle pieces fit perfectly, exactly like I had read in Mother’s letter. But until I heard the tour guide speak about the Masada crisis, seventy years after King Herod’s death, I hadn’t believed that next year’s seventieth anniversary of the end of World War II was connected to Masada. Slow on the uptake, that is me. It was true, it was real.

I didn’t know how to look for the clues and if they actually existed but first I needed to ditch the tour. I went to the guide and told him I was meeting a friend who would drive me back to Tel Aviv. He wasn’t happy to hear this, and proceeded to tell me that he was responsible for me. I pulled a fifty note
shekel
out of my backpack and handed it to him.

“Well, okay, if that’s your plan, fine. Thanks for joining us for half the tour.” I didn’t exactly know how I would get back but was sure I could hitch or call a cab to Jerusalem, then get a
sherut
from there back to Tel Aviv if the buses were already stopped for
Shabbat
. I was compelled to continue following my instincts.

I had grabbed a map of Masada at the tourist souvenir shop and quickly located the five designated places mentioned in Absalom’s instructions. I circled each one with a red pen from my backpack: The Byzantine Church, Columbarium Towers or dovecotes, The Northern Palace, The Large Bathhouse, and the Old Synagogue.

The brochure explained that after the Romans left, The Byzantine Church had been established sometime in the fifth century CE as a home for a small group of Christian monks who lived in the ruins of Masada, which had been uninhabited for a few centuries.

An earthquake which took place in the fourth century had destroyed much of King Herod’s architectural masterpiece of Masada but the church was pretty well preserved and the floor contained a hidden room either used for storage or for burial.

The monks had settled here and in the caves of the Judean wild. After being forced out sometime around the seventh century during the rise of Islam, this area then remain uninhabited. There was a basement for storage and the usual partial walls. I didn’t see much else of interest so I took notes on my thoughts as to what my photos might relate to.

Second on the list was the dovecote or Columbarium Towers. The top had been used as a guard lookout; the bottom used for doves as a food staple and the dung as a source of fertilizer. I had read and thoroughly enjoyed Alice Hoffman’s
The
Dovekeepers
, and was excited to see this area. I could picture how it used to be from the novel, and what was left of the dovecotes was impressive.

Behind the dovecotes were some steps that went down to an area probably used for storage. It was an ethereal feeling that nearly transported me back in time. I wondered what they stored beneath and if there was anything left under the dirt piles that I saw. Snapping some more photos and daydreaming about past civilizations was intriguing to me anyway. I was in a dream space, and was delighted that I was here.

The third location, the Northern Palace was next. To think that King Herod build this bastion for his family was astonishing. It was about 100 feet tall and magnificent, even in what was left to see. Foundations of huge retaining walls had held up three rock terraces. The architecture was a combination of Hellenistic and Roman components. The Palace was built both for social activity and for Herod’s seclusion.

The storerooms’ complex that were connected to the left of the Palace consisted of twenty-nine long rooms surrounded by corridors. They were intended to store food, liquids, and weapons. One of the storerooms had three pits that were discovered in the plastered floors. The Northern Palace was accessible from a flight of stairs and I could still see the original stone steps.

The brochure stated that the storerooms were able to preserve their contents for a century, which was confirmed by Josephus Flavius, (Joseph ben Matityahu 37-100 CE) the Jewish historian who wrote extensively about Masada while a prisoner of Rome.

But the stores laid up within would have excited more amazement... For here had been stored a mass of corn, and sufficient to last for years, abundance of wine and oil, besides every variety of pulse and piles of dates…although from the date of storage to the capture of the place by the Romans well-nigh a century had elapsed.
Josephus Flavius, The Wars of the Jews, VII 296, 297

I was getting tired but I trudged on to the Large Bathhouse, the fourth location, which was surrounded by columns. There was a good model in the courtyard depicting its original appearance as a Roman-style bathhouse and how it was used. There was the tepidarium for warm baths, the fridgedarium or cool pools, and the caldarium for a hot plunge bath. That had a hypocaust, a double floor which was an ancient Roman central heating system with underground furnace and tile flues to distribute the heat.

I was starting to fantasize about the cool Gordon Pool in Tel Aviv because of how hot I was at this point of my trek. I had been to four out of five of the places taking many photos and my spiral notebook was a mess. I had spent a long time walking around each location but didn’t see anything that I perceived to be clues. Later I would compare all the photos.

Last on the list was the Old Synagogue and I proceeded to that area. According to the brochure the building had been constructed during King Herod’s time as a horse stable. At the time of the Great Revolt, it had been converted to a synagogue by adding rows of benches and a separate back room. The sacred
Torahs
had been found in that back room in two dug out pits made for storage.

…long since my brave men, we determined not to serve the Romans nor any other save God…
Josephus Flavius

Needing to find some shade, I found an out of the way place to rest and drink some water that I had brought in my thermos. There was a partial wall behind the synagogue with a little nook behind it and I had just sat down in the dirt with my back against the wall when the vertigo hit. I took a long drink of water and closed my eyes.

A loud voice woke me up from dozing. “Wake up Natasha!”

I recognized Saul’s voice from our telephone conversations and had seen his picture on Facebook, but was so shocked to see him in front of me that I gasped and then let out a squawk. He put a hand over my mouth.
I pushed him with all my might and he lost his balance and fell down.