If Yonatan didn’t bother emptying his bag when he returned from his travels, he couldn’t expect to keep his things private, could he?
Gabriella was a good worker who kept the house clean and neat, but she was getting underfoot, and Sandy Eliav wanted some space.
“When will she be finished?” he asked his wife.
“Who, Gabriella? She finished her regular hours already, but I asked her to stay a little longer today,” said Marta. “The upstairs rooms are dusty.”
“Could you do me a favor and send her home? It’s getting on my nerves, having somebody all over the house.”
“All right, Sandy. We’ll leave the dusting for next time, then. Shall I pack a bag for you?”
“No, thanks, I’ll pack it myself.” He was scheduled for some medical tests the next day that required an overnight stay in the hospital, routine checkups that his doctor had recommended, just to make sure everything was all right and he could go on with life as usual.
Which bag should he use for the few items he planned to take? His suitcases were too big. Even a carry-on suitcase would be ridiculous for such a short stay.
“Marta?”
“Yes, Sandy?”
“Could you please bring me a medium-sized backpack?”
“We’ve got plenty of those.” She rummaged a bit in the closet and came out with her arms full.
“Well, I’m not going to check in at the hospital with a silver bag covered with pink hearts,” said Sandy, eyeing a bag that Judy and Moriah used to take on outings. “That gray one looks about right.”
“You’ll probably need to empty it first,” said Marta. “I think Yonatan was the last one to use it, which means there’ll be all kinds of odds and ends still left inside.”
“When did Yonatan use it? Not before Pesach, I hope.” Sandy pulled the crushed remains of a pack of wafers out of the depths of the bag. “These are chometz.”
“No, it was back in July, when he was in Israel,” Marta said, jumping to her son’s defense. “Before Pesach I always have Gabriella empty out this closet and clean everything thoroughly. Don’t ask what we find in there, it’s not just Yonatan…”
Sandy opened all the zippers and shook out the bag. Rumpled tissues fell out, of course, lots of them. A set of sketching pencils, a black pen, and various scraps of paper, some with handwriting on them. Sandy peered at them curiously. If Yonatan didn’t bother emptying his bag when he returned from his travels, he couldn’t expect to keep his things private, could he?
