Sima

When Ziopy found a steady job, one that provided a nice salary,
pension fund and a notification of 45 days before possible firing, he decided
that it's about time to rent an apartment. After a short search he found
a nice little apartment in Ramat-Gan and one week later a room-mate was
found: Girit.
Everything seemed nice: every first of the month they paid the rent,
every 10th of the month his salary was paid and once every three
months mail brought Ziopy his pension fund's status.
Girit came from Dimona, a dusty little town in the southern part of
Israel. She, like Ziopy was in her mid-twenty's, but unlike Ziopy,
was light headed and full of energy.
This situation of "opposites getting along" suited them well.
Ziopy and Girit lived on the first floor of the building. in the apartment above them
lived Sima: a lonely old woman with heavy Iraqi accent. Sima, an
ex-kindergarten teacher, had no-one: no family, no friends and not even
a pet. She had only two things in her life: her apartment and some
conversations she imposed on the people that came up and down the stairs.
It was so irritating that Ziopy and Girit, when arriving home, parked
their cars as far as they could, sneaked-in the entrance door and went up
quickly in the dark, key ready in their hands.
They did everything to avoid her, but when they were caught, they knew that
it would be at least A half an hour chat. Half an hour about
her bad fortune and about the high payment to the house board.
One night Ziopy and Girit sat in the balcony and had the daily
small-talk. The conversation was about their shaky financial situation
and how they can improve it.
They came out with ideas that made them laugh: Ziopy will be Girit's
pimp and they'll divide the money between them, or maybe they'll rob a
bank or something.
Then Girit said: "why don't we make ourselves Sima's darlings, she will add us to
her will. Judging By the way she walks and breathes, it won't
be long until we have her apartment". Ziopy, after his smile faded away, said:
"So why can't we just kill her? get ourselves in her will and kill her?"
After an hour they were seriously busy in planning their tactic. Ziopy
suggested the slow poisoning: they will visit her daily and drip few
drops of diluted cyanide to her coffee. That way, no pathologist could
trace the poison.
Girit had no patience, she wanted something fast and easy that will
evaporate Sima as if the earth swallowed her. Something like a
blow in the head, folding Sima to a big bag and transfer her to her new place,
few feet deep in the sands near the sea.
At the end of the nightly marathon, a decision was made: a truncheon hit
on the old head of the woman.
In the meantime, Ziopy and Girit tried to become fond by Sima: the stairs
conversations moved to her door and from there, the way to her living
room was short.
In two weeks she loved the two so much and, like in the original plan,
told them one day: "You are nice young people, too much living like
beatniks, but nice. So I decided to leave you my apartment when I am be
gone, and maybe you'll marry each other and live in it, right?"
Ziopy and Girit looked at each other, swallowed their smile and moved
from plans to actions...
In Dimona there were no TV cables. There was one movie theater and, just
from time to time, some worthless kids-shows that wandered through the
country, rarely reaching the dusty town.
What's left for the kids in Dimona was just the base-ball game. A game
that they learnt after the visit of a volunteering American youth (while
visiting the town). The only contribution of this American group was
teaching the local kids the basic rules of the game and leaving their
bats there.
Girit, desperately fallen in love with Jerry, one of the young
Americans, decided that the base-ball bat Jerry gave her, with its
personal dedication, is the only thing she'll bring to the big city. The
only thing that was left is to wrap it with a thick cloth, for dimming
the sound of the blow.
In the following days Ziopy practiced on different types of swings
with the bat, he watched base-ball games on "NBC Sport" and borrowed
from the library the best-seller "The Anatomy of the Skull", which
includes instructive pictures about the skull's structure and its weak spots.
In the meanwhile, Girit studied the cloth market, in order to find the
optimal cloth: one that dims the blow sounds efficiently but not too
thick to reduce it's impact and which also have a high
absorption of blood and other brain juices.
The reasoning of Ziopy and the creativity of Girit seemed to them the
perfect formula for perfect crime.
In a hot summer night they felt ready. Girit, with trembling hands,
wrapped the cloth around the old bat, while Ziopy practicing in his room
the optimal swing, a swing that has become A second nature for him
in the last weeks.
Just after 2 AM they went up to Sima's apartment, opened the door with the
key she gave them ("you must have it, darlings, for emergency") and went
to her bed-room.
Ziopy held the bat above his head and Girit opened the garbage bag to
which Sima would be folded into.
They were surprised to see that the bed was empty. They looked at each
other, terrified, until the wash-room door opened and Sima came out:
bleary-eyed and with an empty bladder.
She gazed at them with wonder. Ziopy regained his senses, swinged
the bat and made a perfect to the right side of Sima's head.
The sound of the blow was a dim, yet decisive sound but Sima stood still
and looked at them with anger.
Ziopy and Girit felt as if they are dreaming, they were paralyzed and
couldn't even blink.
Sima opened her mouth and said: "You are stupid and mean. You will pay
for this"...

In her teenage years, Sima was quite a wild girl. She was the first
Jewish girl in Baghdad that had a motor-cycle. It was a black
combination motor-cycle from the British army's surplus that was sold to
her for a tiny amount of money and few nights of love with the seller: fast hands
and small posture this British sergeant had.
In one of her wild rides in the town's alleys, not far from the west bank of the
Pratt river, a rice cart appeared from nowhere. Sima, tried to maneuvered
away from this dangerous situation, but felt down, her head hitting
hard against the road.
Sima, a daughter of one the wealthiest Jews in Baghdad, got the best treatment:
A young British doctor luckily in town, was brought to her house
with due respect and after a long examination he determined: "There's
nothing much to do, most of the areas of the skull are ruined and Sima
will not survive the next days with a bare brain. But", he added, "there
is a new treatment I am willing to try: a restoration of the skull with platinum".
Nadchi, the worrying father of Sima, ordered his servants to dig
the valuable metal in the remote mountains near the Turkish border.
After 10 days, they were back with dozen pounds of pure platinum,
wrapped with a smooth silk.
The operation was scheduled for the end of the day. At sunset,
Sima's room was filled with oil lamps, bowls of hot water and clean flannels.
The doctor arrived, not minding his ancient etiquette, rolled-up his sleeves,
washed his hands, opened his bag and positioned the silver operation tools.
Along with the doctor came his trainee, holding a bigger bag containing
working tools that were borrowed from a near-by workshop: a hacksaw,
an abrasion tool, a steel scalpel, a little screwdriver and a clamp.
In addition to that, they brought tiny golden screws that would attach
the platinum form to the skull itself.
Those screws were built by a local goldsmith who received their
design by the telegraph from a well-known goldsmith in Damascus.
Even the town's blacksmith was drafted to the operation: few days before
he came to Sima's house and measured the missing areas of the skull,
those that were smashed in the accident. By those measurements he
infused and formed the platinum piece in order to cover exactly the
exposed area of the brain.
Everything was ready. The British doctor began the complicated operation
which he only knew about from an article in an American magazine.
With two bottles of Arrack, mixed with ether, Sima was made into
a deep unconsciousness.
The doctor cleaned, with tiny pincette, the skull's drops that were
still attached to the exposed brain. It was a gentle, slow work. In the while,
the young trainee was wiping the sweat drops from the doctor's forehead.
After that they started the abrasion of the skull's borders. In order to
perform this procedure, the most tiny abrasion tool was chosen, so
to minimize the contact with the brain. The trainee's task was to sniff
the bone's drops to his mouth with a straw and then empty them to the
waste bowl.
The platinum pattern was placed gently on Sima's brain. The pattern,
that suited like a matching pieces of puzzle, was attached with
the screws to the skull and was wrapped with skin, taken from Sima's hip.
Few minutes after that the first sun rays appeared in the morning of a new
day, the doctor was finishing wrapping Sima's head with white bandages,
and sat dawn to sip a dark, steamy tea.
Sima opened her eyes before noon and smiled, embarrassely, at her
parents who were bending worriedly over her bed.
The next days were dedicated to her slow recovery. At the end of the
week the most famous Iraqi musicians were brought to the recovery
celebration. The sounds of music attracted the crowds from the streets
to see the Jewish girl with the half metal head.
For many months after the operation, brave little street boys went after
Sima, asking to knock on her head with forks, ladleses, backles,
horse-shoes and other metal tools to hear the pleasant sound of the
platinum on her head.
Sima, enjoying the attention, accepted all the people's caprices.
In time, she had a nick name: "Ras el-Blatina" ("The head of platinum"),
a name that brought a smile on her acquaintances' face, but her father,
Nadchi, knew the bitter truth: not a single decent Jew will wed his sun
with "Ras el-Blatina".

... Ziopy and Girit felt as if they are dreaming, they were paralyzed
and couldn't even blink.
Sima opened her mouth and said: "You are stupid and mean. You will pay
for this. No one will kill Ras el-Blatina!"
Then, a sweet smile spread across her face and she said: "Why don't we
sit in the living room? we'll sit and talk. I will make some tea".
Ziopy and Girit went after her as if they were hypnotized, and sat one
near the other on the sofa. After a while Sima joined them, holding a
tray with little hot cups of tea.
They couldn't believe their ears. Sima, tenderly and gracefully, had an
ultimatum for them: she can call the police or, they can sign a contract
which says that Ziopy and Girit will be her loyal slaves for the rest of
her life.
Just before 3 AM the contract was ready and singed by all parties.
Ziopy and Girit, feeling as if they gained their freedom, couldn't
imagine how their life will turn into a living hell...
In the following days they were ordered to do hard, yet simple, tasks:
do the shopping for Sima, cleaning her apartment, or reading her
the newspaper, while she is resting in her bed, closing her eyes with
joy. Sima wanted that Ziopy's role will be reading the serious news
section, and Girit will read life-style section ("Like the nice guy on
TV and his cute blond partner").
In time, the tasks became more and more bizarre. Every time Sima wanted
to leave her apartment and take a walk, she called Ziopy and ordered him
to come-over and carry her on his back down the stairs.
Girit was forced to come few times a day in order to do Sima's make-up
("yes honey, this is how I looked when I was young and all the guys in Baghdad
wanted me").
Sometimes she switched the roles: Girit rushed home to carry her on her
back, while Ziopy did the make-up task.
When the situation became unbearable, Ziopy and Girit had to quit their
jobs and dedicate all their time to Sima. Their financial situation
became impossible and they had to leave their apartment and move into
Sima's moldy living room.
In the rare visits of Sima's friend, Noga, the two old ladies had a
royal treatment: Ziopy and Girit carried the two on their back from the
living room to the wash-room, and from there again to the living room
for another rummy game, and from there to the bed-room for a nap.
The rumor was spread and Sima became popular in the elderly community of
the city, due to her two loyal slaves. Sima's apartment was filled with
smiling old people who came to play rummy, while riding the back of the
two slaves.
After a while, their role was limited only to carry Sima and her old
friends: long conversations were held on the back of Ziopy and Girit,
and sometimes even some rides in the neighborhood when the weather was
nice and little children were running around them, giggling.
One evening, hanging on Girit's back, Sima announced decisively: "Once I
was a kindergarten teacher and it was nice. I had many nice kids there.
Now I want to be a kindergarten teacher again and you two will help me
cause I am old and this might be difficult".
The next morning the three of them went out in order to find a place for
the new kindergarten: "Sima's kindergarten".
At noon they found a nice place and Sima said that now they have to find
some facilities that will make the kids smile. "I want some old cars wracks,
that way the kids will sit in those cars and imitate real driving. This is good
for their intelligence".
Ziopy remembered that his cousin, Colmanika, is working as a secretary
in a car lot. The kind of lot where they crump and squeeze old deserted cars.
When they reached the lot, Sima saw the dozens cars that were led to be
squeezed and joyfully she said: "Yes, we'll take three or four cars from
here to Sima's kindergarten".
She insisted of riding on Girit's back, while Girit herself had to ride
Ziopy's back ("yes, we will be just like the tower of Babel").
This weird human tower came into the lot. There were piles of deserted
old cars, and in the center rised a high crane with a huge magnet in it's
end, for carrying the cars from pile to pile. The crane moved very fast
from right to left: it was the end of the busy day.
While hanging around between the piles of cars, the crane with the
magnet moved over the gang. The next few seconds were horrible: the
huge magnet sensed Sima's platinum head and stopped immediately above
the triplet. In a split second Sima felt how she's sucked up, towards
the magnet. The fear caused her to tighten her legs to Girit, and Girit
clutched her legs around Ziopy's hips.
There they were, panicing, hanging in midair, attached to each other.
The heavy weight caused the ancient golden screws in Sima's head to
loosen-up with a creaking sound. A Crack appeared in the connection points
of the platinum to the skull.
After less then a minute Sima was torn-off, with Ziopy and Girit, from
the huge magnet to the soft sand.
In the second time in her life, Sima found herself open-headed, with a
bare brain, but this time there was no avail. Ziopy and Girit lifted
themselves from the ground and gazed, dreadfully, at Sima's open head.
They took each other hand and started to run away. They ran for many
hours, with tears of joy in their eyes. They were free again.
And only a bulk of orphaned platinum stayed embracing the magnet,
shining on the sunset rays.

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