They see how you’ve managed to grow in Toireh by your shver, the Mirrers told me. That’s the kind of house they want to put their son in

Tovi

"So this surgery is really going to happen, huh?” Dudi said as we waited at a roundabout. Leah’s house. A big truck ahead of us was trying to make a right turn and getting stuck.

“Yes,” I said. “Surgery is a scary word, isn’t it?” I knew Dudi would understand. Even though we hadn’t spoken in a long time. Only on the phone, when he was looking for a babysitter.

“Very scary.” Dudi drummed on the steering wheel. “You’re right, this surgery is a big problem.”

“Why?” Now I was really worried.

“Because what are we going to joke about? Once you have this surgery done, a big piece of our repertoire will be knocked out.”

I laughed and laughed, just like the old days. Then I told him what Dr. Barclay said. There are several ways of implanting an ear. She uses the Medpor technique. She says it’s the best because the body doesn’t reject it, and instead of having a fake ear, my new ear will have real skin and blood vessels and nerves. “If someone pinches my ear, I’ll feel it!”

Of course, Dudi offered to have Yaffa’le pinch it for me when the time comes, if I ever want to verify that data.

He looked thoughtful as we drove along Rechov Nahar HaYarden, and then he asked, “Maybe this Dr. Barclay could give you some of this Medpor stuff to take home with you, if there’s any left over?”

“What for?”

“So I can implant it in some people’s heads, and maybe they’ll grow some brain cells on it,” he said. “I know a few people who could use some….”

“Enough of that foolishness,” I said in my father’s tone of voice, even though I was enjoying every moment.

When we pulled up by my house, I saw my father himself there, standing next to a utility pole, talking on his cell phone.

“No, it isn’t coercion, and it isn’t pointless,” he was telling somebody. “You can start your own paper, if you want. HaMehadhed is a private business, and we don’t coerce anyone to advertise in it.”

“Oy, another one of those advertisers trying to argue with Abba,” I said. And in a moment he’s going to see me get out of Dudi’s car.

“Your abba… he should only be well,” Dudi muttered. He wanted to part on good terms.

“No,” Abba continued to that faceless advertiser on the phone. “The ad won’t go in the way it is. You can take out the words we said we can’t accept, or you can take out the whole ad. It’s your choice.”

And suddenly Abba turned his head and saw me. “Hello, Tovi!” he said.

“Ima let me,” I said, already defending myself.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Thank you, and good night, Dudi.”

“It’s true!” Dudi called after him as we walked away. “We spoke with your wife, Gedalya. Don’t worry, I didn’t kidnap Tovi without permission.”

It was so cold. Abba was so cold too. Dudi tried for a joke. “Hey, Gedalya, you know what? I saw a cat the other day with more legs than the average…”

But Abba was already shepherding me inside, and I didn’t get to hear the rest of the joke.