Establishment Read Free Page A

ulcer. I’m only forty-two years old. That’s not old. But I live with the feeling that everything’s behind me and nothing’s ahead of me.”
    â€œUntil today?” Barbara asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you want ice cream?”
    â€œSure.”
    She went to the refrigerator. With her back to him, scooping the ice cream onto a plate, she asked, “Who are they, these two men—Brodsky and—?”
    â€œGoodman. They’re both members of the Haganah, which is the defense force of the Jewish settlements in Palestine. They’re Americans, but they’ve been living there. Now they’ve come back on a special mission.”
    â€œWhat kind of a mission?” She set the ice cream in front of him. He began to eat it, watching her out of his pale, childlike eyes.
    â€œThis is very damn secret, Bobby.”
    â€œI am your wife.”
    â€œAll right. With the UN decision for the partition and the creation of a Jewish state in Palestine, all hell will break loose. It will probably happen in weeks, months—in any case it means war with the Arab states, and the most desperate need for the Jews is planes. Somehow or other, they made a deal with the Czechs. They can’t get anything out of the States because of the embargo. The Czechs want two million in cash, and the money was put together in New York. It was all very subrosa. They can’t go to any of the regular sources. Then there’s the question of getting the money to Czechoslovakia, picking up the planes, which will be dismantled, and getting them to Palestine. The FBI has gotten wind of it, and they’re watching the whole operation like hawks.”
    â€œAnd why did they come to you, Bernie? Just to renew an old friendship?”
    He had finished the ice cream. He got up, went to her, and bent and kissed her. She made no response. She felt that her blood had stopped flowing, that ice was congealing around her heart. He went to the stove and picked up the coffeepot. “Can I pour you some coffee?”
    When they got married, he had had about three thousand dollars, his British army pay, and what he had picked up shooting craps. He would be a good, honest, substantial, hard-working citizen. He borrowed five thousand more, and for eight thousand dollars and a large mortgage, he had purchased the garage. He went to work each morning; he returned each night.
    He poured coffee for both of them. “There are ten C-54s on a field down near Barstow. They’re the big four-motor jobs that Air Transport used during the war. The guy who owns them bought the lot for sixty-five thousand, war surplus. He wants a hundred and ten thousand for them. If we can get them, we’ll rip out the seats and use them for cargo. Fly them to Czechoslovakia, pick up the planes, and fly them to Palestine.” Then he waited, watching her. The silence built up between them.
    Finally she said, “‘We,’ Bernie?”
    He nodded slowly.
    â€œWhen did you make that decision?”
    â€œBobby, haven’t you watched me? Don’t you see what’s happening to me? I’m turning rotten. I tried. God, how I tried! For two years I’ve gone to that damn garage every day. It’s no good. You’ve seen the way I’ve been for the past six months. Do you want me that way?”
    â€œI want you,” she whispered. “I still want you, Bernie. I didn’t come to this marriage easily. We took each other for better or worse.”
    â€œI’m not walking out on you. I love you. We got a kid together. We got blood and grief and agony between us. We didn’t just run into each other and say ‘I do.’”
    Controlling herself, choosing her words carefully, Barbara said, “You’re not walking out on me. Then what would you call it, Bernie?”
    â€œIt’s something I have to do, Bobby. Sure, this thing with Brodsky came out of the blue. But there hasn’t