Scocth Perrier

'Well, that's the town's heart.' Everon was drawing his attention as they reached at last, a round square of a fair size. 'This crossroads divides the town in its length and width, and is located as you may deduct right in its middle. As a matter of fact, this is the place where the only two stretches of asphalt in this country join into that lonely square. We've a left turn here.' He added, turning the car left and blowing the horn at the same time, scaring some of the pedestrians who blocked the car's way. 'We drove straight on at this junction yesterday, on our way to the ambassador's residence – remember?' 'Oh yes,' Shatz muttered indifferently nodding his head, turning right back his attention to the sights through the windshield and outside his door's window. 'Listen Reuven, the importance of these two stretches of asphalt, from our point of view is very critical. I wouldn't have bothered to mention that issue, if it wasn't that important and useful!' 'I see,' Shatz answered stifling a yawn, he was bored already. 'You'd better listen carefully!' Remarked Everon, throwing a quick glance at him. 'Suppose one of us, or any member in our delegation reached the end of his term here; did his job and is about to return home. He has to sell his car first, right? Now then, if it turns up that during his stay he had driven his car, just once upon the Piste...' 'Just a moment, what's that?' Wondered Shatz interrupting him. It’s the French term for a dirt road, the dirt roads outside town. It’s not the unpaved lanes that you see here in town, on which one has to drive in first gear. I mean the "Escalier" as the French nickname it; the rough cog-wise dirt roads out of town, on which one has to go at the speed of no less than fifty miles an hour, if he doesn't wish to get sea sick. So in short to sum the matter up, if one has through some reason to hit the Piste and do no more than a few miserable miles... - that same car of his even if it’s a brand new model, loses fifty percent of its value right afterwards! Got the message? ' 'Yeah got the message, but if someone did hit the Piste with his car sometime who could tell he did, who could prove it?' Shatz wondered. 'It isn't as simple as you think!' Answered Everon eagerly. 'Next week we'll have a few tours in the neighborhood, we'll use a Landrover for such rides of course, so you'll have your chance to see the “Escalier” with your own eyes; you won't need any further explanations, I can assure you! Yeah, these stairs as the French nickname those teeth, affectionately...' He chuckled, enjoying his own little wisecrack. 'These horrid teeths, will shake any car apart, damage the shock-absorbers – what am I saying, finish them off after one trip! What else, tear new tires into shreds, in just three months time, fill the engine with dust and dirt and leave behind such traces, such scars no one is able to efface...! That's not all! There are the locals, man, they're smart; they provide the relevant information such as whose car was it, on what date and where exactly that car was bound, to anyone for a handful of coins...' Slowing the car down and turning right, Everon stopped it and parked at the curb near quite a big liqueur and tobacco store. 'Do me a favor,' he asked Shatz and drawing his wallet out of his pocket; he pulled two notes of thousand francs each in local money and gave them to Shatz. 'Hop to that store right over there and get me three packages of American cigarettes; any brand will do, there's only one condition though – see that the lettering is impressive enough, bright red would be the right choice.’ Being the only customer at that hour, Shatz returned right away with the cigarettes and the change – and handed it over to Everon. 'Switched your taste lately, I thought you are smoking Gauloise, don’t you?'

'Oh come-on! What do you take me for?' Turned to him Everon with his sly smile. Raising his eyes to the mirror to check the traffic behind them, he engaged the first gear – and off they rode with screeching brakes to the home office, their next destination. 'No I haven't switched to American cigarettes, if that's what bothers you! Don't be absurd; these packages are a token, just a gesture of good will... The bare truth is that my presence is more than enough, all I have to do, is be there, and any matter is settled on the spot! But we had better bring along a thing or two, to warm their hearts with joy. Oh don't you worry... ' He added noticing the marked change in Shatz's features. 'I don't pay it with my own money, there's a special budget for such matters.' The government offices were located at the town's outskirts, at the end of the Independence Avenue, some distance away from the rest of the street's buildings. A group of one-story long structures, covered with rusty corrugated iron sheets. The whole site served not too long ago, as a French military barracks, to keep the town's garrison within its limits. Though the whole compound, after having been turned over to the locals’ hands, was reconstructed and repainted, the impression it left its visitors was of decline and negligence. Having parked his car Everon got out without hiding his disgust. To pay a visit to such a miserable site, must have forced him no doubt to exhort to all the will power he could summon. The warm reception, in which they were received, must have compensated Everon for his earlier efforts. An unofficial ceremony it seemed to be to Shatz, as they were led in a cheerful parade by a group of chattering and laughing clerks up to their superior's door, the home office's director general in person and no less. At this polite official's desk, they were served with assorted pastry and coffee; Everon had a very enthusiastic parley with his Excellency, while Shatz listened attentively. An awe stricken clerk entered after a short while and tiptoed with a bowed head to the desk. He was carrying with him stamps, forms and whatever needed to furnish Shatz with a permit. With much tact he approached them, then stepped to Shatz's side and asked for his passport; filled with care the right entries, and having asked his superior's confirmation and signature, left as humbly as he entered. After a few more moments of a pleasant and very polite conversation, thanking effusively to his excellency Everon left the cigarettes packages on the desk, while Shatz collected his stay permit – and they took their leave. 'Well that's enough, we've done our share today!' Said Everon while pulling his car out of the compound's parking lot – amid the ministers and other high functionaries rows of splendid limousines. Before turning back to the Independence avenue, he stopped the car and turned to Shatz: 'About some sixty five kilometers from here, lies Dialo, the second biggest town in this country – which is in fact just a mere miserable hole. Our farm, is situated five kilometers westward to it, and thank god these five extra kilometers are paved! Let's get the hell out of that depressimg spot.’ He added and set the car on the move again. 'Have you noticed,' he went on talking and driving fast as usual; they were heading back to the crossroads, Everon did not stop his chatter just for a few short breaks; while he scrutinized the several oncoming cars, waving to their owners who were his acquaintances every one of them. ’...From the crossroads to the President's square, where the President Avenue and the Independence Avenue cross each other, you won't find even a solitary tree – funny isn't it?' He remarked laughing aloud. 'Anyhow, that square leads anywhere in this country. If for instance at the end we have just came from, you'll reach the government's offices and the road to Dialo; at the opposite end you'll reach the

seashore and the town's harbor. As for the President's Avenue, on one end the new quarter is situated, while on the other end you'll find the hotel and the road to the airport. Well everything is at the fringes in this retarded hole of a state.' Shatz was getting tired. He was listening to Everon's monologue, and turning the ambassador's advice in his mind at the same time – while he had to bear the climate's hardships, that stifling heat with an average of some ninety percent humidity. The little incident with Everon at the hotel that morning demonstrated very effectively how easily one could lose his temper, as a direct outcome of that lousy climate. He must be more careful, he warned himself. But Everon's continuous chatter, the exciting meeting, and his own troubled thoughts, exhausted him – he nearly fell asleep. 'What's now?' He asked yawning. 'Are we on our way back to the hotel? Is that all?' 'Just don't get into a fit, keep cool, will you?' Glanced at him Everon amused. 'I'm taking you around a bit, a tour of the town I'd say, that's in itself is some extra work, overtime – don't you think? Anyway, you must feel much better now, that's how you look – I can read it on your face, believe me!' 'Thank you, yes, I feel all right.' Shatz answered, stretching his weary limbs. 'God, am I thirsty!' 'Is that so...' Exclaimed Everon. 'That's no problem at all! We're on our way to the Astro, it’s no more than two minutes drive, we'll get us some drinks over there. It’s the biggest whole sale store in town.' He explained to Shatz. 'I've met its manager yesterday at the hotel's lobby, while I was waiting for you, remember? He received this very morning a fresh consignment straight from Japan as a matter of fact. The thing is I need a new watch badly, and I've been pestering him for almost two weeks about it – the poor fellow! Well he gave me his word not to release anything for sale, before I'll have a look at it. The trouble is he imports a dozen or so watches each time, so he asked me to pay him a visit at eleven this morning. If I'll miss that meeting, oh man! We'll be left with the empty packages! By the way what what kind of a watch do you have?' ‘A Swiss made Doxa.' Shatz answered huskily clearing his throat. 'You'd better get youself one of these, a Japanese made Seico, and the reason is very simple, the Swiss watches are no good in this climate. Just look here something of this kind, see?' He said extending his left hand towards Shatz's face while holding the steering wheel with his right – sending his wrist across his chest as far as he could. 'I've got this one for nearly a year already, but in the circles where I'm used to roam I'd rather dump it; I can't wear it one more day after a new consignment arrives to the Astro.' 'But that's a brand new watch, why dump it?' Asked Shatz, trying hard to hide his astonishment. 'Oh no I won't, I've sold it to Priel yesterday at the air-port, while we were waiting for your arrival.' Answered cheerfully Everon. He slowed down and parked the car with ease, got out, and waited for Shatz to join him on the pavement. '…For half its price! He needs it for his boy, it’s going to be their boy's farewell present. Apropo, that boy of theirs passes over to you with the lease on the farm house, when they'll evacuate the place.' He paused for a moment and gave Shatz a searching look, and then brought his wrist up to his own face this time – thirteen minutes to eleven o’clock, that's what it showed. ‘There’s plenty of time yet we'd better wait outside...Concluded Everon a bit excited already. The Astro was just a few yards away.

'The Priels are the second Israeli family he’s working for; he is reliable, diligent, nearly as good as the boy I've I would say!' Everon went on explaining that peculiar problem. Shatz's long periods of silence did not bother him much, as long as he didn't object to his plans. 'They had employed two boys last year, one of them took care of the children, the other one cooked and looked after the house. Well then, the one that was the babysitter became a real nuisance, and they got rid of him. Raising the cook's pay with a couple of thousand francs solved their problem. That one of course is the one you'll get. Now taking him on would be the right thing to do, cause you already know with whom you're dealing – and you won't have to hire someone, neither you nor we know or have ever heard of. In any case we'll pay them a visit soon enough, and I don’t have to tell you why. Anyway, apart from that urgent reason, I've got to be there and see what's goes on there. That by the way would be your chance to see the farm, the house – and that boy of theirs; and consult the Priels’ about his pay, and get other useful details that might interest you there.' Shatz nodded absent mindedly, watching the passers-by. 'Didn't you say you were thirsty, so am I, let’s go!' Everon added decisively, and leaving the car he led the way to the Astro's wide entrance. Just a few customers were present at that huge store at that hour of day, about two dozens of them no more. A handful of them roamed in the long passages between the loaded shelves, and a few more queued at one of the cash registers, busying a dark skinned cashier; which was the only open post out of eight, the other were closed and abandoned yet. Everon did not stop even for a quick glance at the loaded shelves. He was leading Shatz through the nearest passage, whose shelves on both sides were loaded with kitchen utensils, up to the low ceiling that covered the whole store. 'That's not exactly the right place to renew one's wardrobe, but for certain articles, such as various electronic devices, jewelry and you know, it’s the only place in town. You'll see it with your own eyes right away!' A wide transparent wall separated the far quarter of the store from wall to wall, with the rest of the store’s interior. It must have been made of Perspex or some other hard plastic, and was supported with aluminum framing. That transparent wall divided the store's smaller part, from its rest, hermetically. The rows of expensive and prestigious products could be seen, through the transparent partition – and an office was seen at its far end, with its occupant at a desk, bent over his papers. With his hand on the door's knob that separated the air-conditioned haven from the rest of the store, Everon turned to Shatz excitedly: 'The Astro's first class! Apres vous.' He added as he opened that door to let Shatz in. Having shut the door behind him, he overtook Shatz, and led him straight to the open office. The Astro's manager, rose to his feet smiling and leaving his desk, went over to his open door to welcome his guests. ‘Monsieur Arnaut! Cher ami! Right on time aren’t we?’ Exclaimed Everon shaking his friend's hand warmly. 'Agronome Shatz!' He introduced Shatz to the Frenchman, with much pride. 'He’s just arrived yesterday to stay with us for the next two years.' Everron added adapting Shatz's title as his new visit card. 'Oh welcome, do come in and be seated please.' Arnaut saie, as he led them to his desk. 'You must be well treated, and very lucky to be under the commandant's care.' He remarked but did not seem to expect Shatz's answer. 'He's at the Etoile I understand?'

'That's right, but he suffers from the "adjustment syndrome"... It’s not a serious matter though...' Everon explained tactfully the issue to their host. Shatz fidgeted on his seat restlessly, these two were discussing him as if he were Everon's next wristwatch. 'Scotch Perrier.' Said the manager thoughtfully, supporting his chin with his right hand's thumb. 'Scotch Perrier!' Agreed Everon repeating him as an echo. GOD ALMIGHTY!!! Shatz groaned deeply within his tormented brain, his all being craved for a drop of water. But when the drinks were served at last, and the greetings were exchanged – he felt much better having poured that certain drink down his throat. With the second drink, which he himself asked out of his own initiative, he was almost relieved. A few more polite sentences were exchanged, and the manager turned his face to his own door, and summoned one of his employees, who was waiting there ready for his instructions. 'Fetch me the samples if you please!' He ordered him. The latter entered the office, and went to a low chest of drawers next to the wall, in front of the manager's desk. He pulled open the upper most one. Everon held his breath crashing the cigarette he had just lighted up in the ashtray. He was watching every movement that man did. 'We have got five different samples this time.' Noted Arnaut, a hint of a smile was sneaking to his lips. Shatz, who noticed it could not decide clearly, whether the exhibition of the precious stock or Everon's excitement were behind Arnaut's obvious satisfaction. The five watches were brought to the desk on a broad platter, in their original elongated boxes. Their covers were put beneath exposing the transparent plastic sleeves that shielded each one, but did not diminish the charms of modern design, and the power of allurement that such articles were endowed with. 'The price ranges from eight to twelve thousand in local money, and these are not the prices, which the rest of the clientele would have to pay – I can assure you my friend!' Remarked Arnaut. Everon, who was too busy checking the samples from every possible angle, didn’t pay attention to that last remark. 'Reouven! Say something for God's sake, how can you keep silent?' Asked him Everon sticking to the French language in a strange cheerful air, mingled with a hint of confusion – he couldn’t make up his mind yet. ‘I'm fearfully sorry to interfere, but if Monsieur Shatz wishes to purchase a watch too – a fact that renders me much pleasure in itself, he shall have to wait for the next consignment!' 'I see', answered him Everon holding one of the samples, close to his eyes. 'Reouven, I asked you something didn't I?' Each of these five samples was a marvel; one sample had a golden face, two had a white one and the other two had a black face. As each couple consisted of round and square samples. The round ones seemed more sophisticated, and did include a time stopper. 'Take the round golden one.' Suggested Shatz. 'My dear friend,' Everon turned to the manager, pointing out to the round black watch. 'This is my choice.' 'That would be twelve thousand francs mon commandant.' 'Well you haven't said anything yet, ha ha...!' Turned Everon to Shatz, with unhidden delight and pulled out his wallet.

'It’s a real beauty!' Greeted him Shatz at last. 'An excellent choice, my compliments,' added Arnaut his voice to the greetings. 'Why, it deserves a toast, don't you think gentlemen?'