(Sorry about the Hebrew, please correct if it is incorrect! :D)
Hours Later: Safe House, Grayson, VA
Eli cursed—first in Hebrew and, then in English for good measure. 'Change the dressing when it is soiled', he said to his mirror-reflection with a mock British accent. 'Keep your left arm immobilized at the shoulder for at least 72 hours'. Does Dr. Mallard think I am Houdini?
He bit angrily into the medical tape dispenser and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as the thin plastic cracked under pressure. Ripping a piece of tape off with his right hand, he stuck it to the side of the bathroom sink. Then, taking a new bandage from his apparently useless left hand, he pressed it firmly against the oozing entry wound in his left shoulder. Brilliant! Now what? He paused, allowing himself a moment to ponder his next move—thinking: Maybe I am just tired. This is not such a big deal. I have gotten myself out of worse situations.
He looked up and chuckled as he made eye contact with himself in the mirror-noting the dark circles under his eyes, the growing population of wrinkles and scars, the unruly white hair, and the extra weight put on after too much time spent sitting at a desk exercising only his mouth. Of course, I was in much better shape then…figuratively and literally.
He tried bending his chin down to hold the bandage and free his right hand for the task of tape application which resulted, instead, in an agonizing neck cramp. "UGH!" he groaned kicking the vanity in frustration, "Ze haya ma' se m'tumtam b'met, Alter Kocker! (That was a really stupid move, Old Fart!)"
In the neighboring room, Jackie frowned. Judging by the sound of his footsteps heading towards the forayer, Malachi—who had volunteered for the first shift guarding their makeshift safe house—was no longer within ear-shot of his boss. She looked at the clock. It was late, well after 3 AM, but Eli David had waited patiently while she showered in the house's one bathroom; saying he would likely be awhile one-handed. And, though she was not fond of the man whose visits coincided with nothing but peril for her family, she felt somewhat guilty for spending so long trying to scrub away the stress of the night—the worry for the children she'd left behind. She had seen Eli try to hide his fatigue as he retreated to wait in what had been her father's room; but, thanks to her husband, she was well read in the subtle body language of men in his position. She turned towards where Liat lay in the bed next to hers—her grandmother's.
Liat groaned and got up, "He is like his daughter…dramatic."
Jackie listened as Liat rapped twice quickly on the bathroom door, "Ptakh et hadlet! (Open the door!)"
"Azov oti be-sheket!" (Leave me alone!), Eli hissed in reply.
"You need help! You cannot do this yourself, open up!" (In Hebrew)
"I am fine! Azov oti be-sheket! Go back to sleep!" Eli growled, exasperated with Liat's persistence.
At the sound of something clattering to the bathroom floor, Jackie could bear no more and got up. Liat turned to face her and shrugged, throwing her hands in the air. Jackie sighed at the young woman's lack of resolve. Liat may be afraid of Eli David, but fear was not one of the feelings Jackie harbored towards the man. She would deal with him just as she dealt with her husband—firmly. With one move, Jackie pushed past Liat, and barked, "Eli, it's Jackie. Open the damn door!"
There was a noticeable pause in activity on the other side of the door followed by a rustling of garments thrown hastily over their wearer. Jackie could sense Eli's embarrassment as the door opened slightly to reveal his haggard face. Liat gave an audible hiss of surprise—clearly unaccustomed to seeing her boss take orders.
"I…" Liat and Eli began simultaneously—the former obviously seeking to absolve herself of responsibility for Jackie's behavior; the latter noticeably red in the face.
Jackie took note of the broken tape dispenser in the sink and the unbuttoned shirt Eli was holding shut across his chest with his right hand. "You," she interrupted as she took a step towards Eli, "are not Houdini. But, thanks to your previous visit, I've had to learn a few tricks when it comes to dressing changes. Now, turn around and sit down."
Eli opened his mouth—a protest on his lips, but Jackie pressed on—extreme fatigue squashing any sense of respect. "This isn't about you, Eli. It's about me wanting to get some rest in this Hell Hole. Now, sit your ass down."
Himself sapped of energy, Eli complied—sinking slowly onto the toilet seat.
Liat, genuinely concerned at Eli's lack of tit for tat –at his subordination-asked, "Are you alright, Director?"
Eli looked down at his feet and chortled softly before responding, "I have been better."
You are lucky to be alive, Liat thought as Jackie removed the soiled bandage from the exit wound in Eli's back. It was red and oozing, located just between the ribs under his shoulder blade—dangerously close to his heart. She looked away, unable to stomach the reminder of how she lost her father long ago…
As she cleansed the wound, Jackie inhaled slowly, herself attempting to ignore unwanted memories of Leon's brush with death at Eli's last visit. Her efforts failed and she felt a surge of anger as she thought about how that visit had stripped her family of its innocence. A brief, "Tsss," escaped Eli and he flinched—drawing her attention to the excessive force with which she was applying the new pressure bandage. He looked up at her briefly—his brown eyes questioning where she imagined they would be displeased. "Sorry," she whispered, nearly inaudibly, as she gently replaced his shirt over his shoulder.
Fleetingly, Eli patted her hand. "Thank you, Jackie. I can manage from here."
His words, though genuine, were firm—authoritative. Liat jerked her head in the direction of their bedroom. Jackie put down the sling she had taken from the sink top. "Lilah tov, Director," Liat said as she led Jackie back to bed.
"Good night, Liat…Jackie," Eli said nodding after them. He waited for their footsteps to fade and their beds to creak under their weight before he called on every ounce of energy he had left to get himself on his feet and make his way to his own bed. As he shuffled slowly down the hall, using his right hand and the wall to steady himself, he let go of his pride—fully aware that Malachi stood vigil in the shadows behind him.