SOME OLD MAN brought the radio set in a few days ago. Took him two minutes just to open the door. Benny went to help him out, carried the radio up to the counter. The old man slouched behind him, breathing heavily. Then he looked at Benny with his puffy eyes and said the radio had conked out.
“What make is it?” I yelled through the storage room window.
“Grundig 3059, wooden panel,” Benny replied.
“Yowza, an antique. Need me to take a look?”
“Nope, it’s a goner,” he said, and advised the man against repairing it. Said the spare parts alone would cost more than three new Sonys.
“No, out of the question,” the man said. “Nechama wouldn’t stand for a new one.”
I came out of the storage room and stood behind the counter.
Benny smiled, told him he could help convince her. That he’d give them a good price.
The man lowered his gaze.
“She passed away. Two years ago.”
Benny apologized and turned to face me.
“Ever fix one of these?”
“No, but I think I can.”
Benny hesitated for a moment, then told the old man we’d give it our best shot. The man nodded, rearranged his scarf and green cap and left the shop.
Benny shuffled into the storage room, placed the radio set on the table, and asked if I happened to catch last night’s game.
“There was a soccer match?”
“It’s like you’re living under a rock. The basketball game! Maccabi made it to the finals.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, it’s awesome.”
He smiled.
“We can watch the finals together,” I said.
“I’d love to, believe me,” he sighed. “But Yotam won’t let me. It’s his first finals.”
“Of course, you’re right. I wish I had a kid to watch it with.”
“What’s the rush to have kids? You have all the time in the world, you’re barely thirty.”
“I’m thirty-four.”
“Even better, trust me,” he said, and walked out of the room.
I stayed alone with the radio set. It was an early sixties model, old but in decent condition. It switched on but didn’t pick up any stations. I spent a few hours fiddling with it but couldn’t find the source of the malfunction. I changed the antenna and a few other parts, but nothing helped. It pissed me off because I hate wasting an entire shift on one device. Not that Benny would ever say anything. He really is a great boss. He knows talking to customers isn’t my thing, and he’s cool with me staying in the back room all day, fixing devices. He’s always telling me to feel free to set my own pace, that as far as he’s concerned, I can take all the time in the world, though, I’m not sure how sincere he’s being. After all, it’s not as if he has all that time to give me even if he wanted to. I know it sounds petty, but it bothers me when people say things they don’t actually mean. Personally, I prefer being as precise as possible. I use iPhone notes to keep a daily record of my expenses and how much time I spend in front of my computer. That’s how I know my daily repair average is eleven devices, and that it takes me fourteen minutes and seven seconds to get from my house to the old strip mall. If it wasn’t for Nurit, it would take me thirteen and a half minutes. She works at the drugstore next to Benny’s shop and stops me each morning at the entrance to the strip mall, always finding something to criticize. My slumped posture, for instance, or that I don’t have enough hair to justify buying shampoo. I have the feeling she’s like that with everyone, but I have no way of knowing. Maybe she just can’t stand me.
IT TOOK ME four days to fix the old man’s radio. I mean, I thought I had fixed it, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. It didn’t pick up Galei Tzahal or Reshet Bet, only stations I never listen to, like 93.1 and 108 FM. The quality wasn’t that great either; there was tons of static. I tinkered with it for two minutes and twenty seconds, until I finally stumbled on a station it picked up beautifully, 98.6 FM.
Four-hundred-and-thirty-plus-eighty-five-plus-six-hundred-and-fuck-wait-forgot-the-VAT-dammit-from-the-top-five-hundred-and-three-plus-one-hundred-no-no-it-makes-no-sense.
The volume kept going up even though I wasn’t touching anything.
Benny walked into the room, asking if I remembered how much the woman from yesterday had paid to fix her microwave.
“Ninety-nine shekels and forty-five agorot.” The broadcaster’s words descended into a blaring garble.
“I told you to charge her two hundred.”
“When?”
“Turn that off, turn it off a sec. Right before I went out for lunch. Don’t you remember I told you to charge her two hundred?”
I tried to remember but couldn’t.
Benny looked at the radio. “You were wrapped up with that, huh? Never mind, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry, Benny, I can pay the difference if you …”
“It’s all good. Keep working on the radio, take all the time you need.”
I switched the radio back on. Picked up the same station. It was only after a few moments that I realized the voice was familiar.
Five-hundred-and-three-plus-one-hundred-idiot-three-hundred-and-sixty-five-shekels-fuck-what-on-god’s-green-earth-okay-let’s-see-that-comes-out-to-just-over-
I shot up in my chair, recoiling from the voice. I looked out the window into the shop. Benny was sitting at the cash register, counting receipts and scribbling in a notebook. He wasn’t talking. The radio kept broadcasting. I stared at him and imagined him speaking.
One-hundred-and-fifty-plus-two-hundred-and-seventy-five-comes-out-to-why-is-this-not-adding-up?
I leaped up so fast the chair fell backward. Benny turned to me and smiled.
God-I-can’t-take-him-anymore-what-does-that-pain-in-the-neck-want-now?
I turned down the radio and stepped out of the back room and into the shop.
“Haven’t fixed it yet? Why don’t you go out for a bite? You’ve been working all day.”
“No, thanks, just looking for a screwdriver.”
Benny yanked open the drawer and handed me one. I returned to the back room and closed the door.
Screwdriver-my-ass-he’s-just-fucking-bored-wants-to-nag-okay-again-how-much-is-two-hundred-and-seventy-five-plus-
I turned off the radio, keeping my finger on the switch for another forty-six seconds. I didn’t want to hear any more. I fixed ten other devices. At closing time, I told Benny good night and rushed out, avoiding his gaze. I went home and got straight into bed, feeling like my body was off-kilter. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t steady them. Eventually I fell asleep. I woke up at seven in the morning and wrote down what I remembered of my dream. Or rather, my nightmare. I have about one per month, on average. I washed my face and left for work. When I arrived at the shop I immediately began running tests on the radio again. At nine forty the old man called, asking if we’d fixed it yet. I told him that we were still waiting for a spare part from Germany and it would take at least another week. He thanked me and hung up. Whenever a customer walked in, I began fiddling with the frequency. I couldn’t catch the stations of the first seven customers, but at 10:53 a tall bearded man walked in. I started playing with the frequency until I heard a brittle voice coming out of the radio. I cranked up the volume.
And-shortbread-cookies-what-am-I-supposed-to-pick-up-now?-The-printer-and-Rachel’s-meds-the-prescription-is-in-my-pocket-what-else?-Get-back-to-Yossi-about-the-apartment-tickets-to-Italy-yes-what-time-is-it-gosh-already-eleven-the-morning-flew-by.
I looked at all the devices I’d fixed. There was only one printer, small and black. I picked it up and approached the counter.
“Yes, that’s the one,” he said, pointing at the printer. “You guys are the best.”
“He’s the best,” Benny said, slapping me on the back. I nodded and returned to the back room. I stared at the radio and decided it was enough. I wasn’t going to turn it on again.
At around five o’clock, Benny said he had a wedding to attend and left me alone in the shop until closing time. I stared at the customers coming and going, telling myself I wasn’t at all interested in what they thought. But at 6:23 an older woman walked in. She was looking for an iPhone case, standing there in a puffy down coat and red sunglasses, studying the case selection. I asked her if she needed any help. She lowered her sunglasses and gave me a once-over. It was clear she was looking at my receding hairline, probably thinking how ugly I was. I told her I was popping into the back room to fetch something. I walked in and tuned the radio to her station. I had to know.
The-black-case-isn’t-that-bad-fucking-Amos-going-and-breaking-up-a-family-after-twenty-years-throwing-it-all-away-and-for-what-actually-the-silver-case-is-nicer.
She walked up to the cash register as I came out of the back room. I gave her a twenty percent discount without even telling her.
“Everything okay?” I asked softly.
“Perfect, hon. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“Honey, why did you ask?” She looked at my hairline again. It pissed me off.
“Because of Amo—” I wavered, falling silent.
“You a friend of Amos’s?”
I didn’t reply.
“He already told everyone, huh?” She put her hand on her neck, fondling a colorful necklace. I bagged the silver case. She snatched it from my hand.
“Tell your friend he’s a fucking loser,” she said and walked out of the shop. The noise from the radio gradually died down.
I stood rooted to the spot for a while. Then I called the old man to let him know the shipment from Germany had been delayed and it would take at least another month. He said a month was a long time, and I asked if he wanted me to cancel the order. He hesitated for a moment, and said no. That Nechama wouldn’t have wanted that. He hung up. I’m not sure whether I was pleased or disappointed.
The following day I let Benny know about the delay as well. He didn’t say a word, just thought he ought to replace me with his nephew who’d be out of trade school soon and willing to work for minimum wage. I went back to fixing other devices, but now I was averaging eight a day. I listened to the radio while working, keeping it low so Benny wouldn’t hear. Apart from tuning in on the customers, I also liked following Albert, the building super, who mainly hummed Arik Lavie songs, and Nurit’s station, 101.3 FM, which had the best signal. She had this funny quirk of reciting useless trivia about different countries. For example, in Canada there were more lakes than in all other countries combined, and the name “Spain” originally meant “land of the rabbits.” And every day at noon on the dot, she thought of things she wanted to eat, like pasta with cream and sweet potatoes, or tuna salad with olive oil and feta. I also liked that while in person she was quick with the hurtful remarks, alone in her head she was much more hesitant—afraid that her boss thought she was too slow, or that her paycheck wouldn’t stretch to the end of the month. One morning I popped into the drugstore to pick up toothpaste. Nurit was at the cash register. She looked up and said, “Always buying off-brand, huh? Cheap-ass.” And I didn’t say a word, just went back into the shop and turned on the radio.
Two-soaps-for-ten-is-a-great-bargain-I’ll-buy-some-for-myself-too-bad-he’s-always-rushing-off-it’s-actually-nice-when-he-stops-by-oh-wait-last-month-it-was-three-for-ten.
My shoulders shot up. I made sure the door was closed and cranked up the radio. I listened to her station till the end of my shift; three more times she thought I was cute, and twice that it was a shame we didn’t know each other better.
The following day, we met at the entrance to the strip mall.
“You’re jumpy today,” she said.
“Maybe,” I replied, noticing the large beauty mark on her neck. I smiled. She smiled back. That day she had spent seven minutes and forty-six seconds thinking about me. Four times she had told herself that if I asked her out, she wouldn’t turn me down. I thought about it, and about how it had been exactly three years and four months since my last date.
I walked into the drugstore to buy a pack of gum. Nurit was sitting at the cash register; she looked at the gum and said it tasted vile. I asked her if she wanted to go out with me. She considered me for a moment, and said no.
I said okay, dropped my gaze to the floor, and went back to the shop. Shaking, I sat down on my chair in the back room. The radio was still playing her station.
I-always-have-to-go-ruin-everything-such-an-idiot-I-can’t-believe-it-fucking-moron-how-much-does-that-cost-twenty-six?-God-I-hope-he-comes-back.
I listened to her and smiled. After thinking about it for another hour, I decided to go back to the drugstore. I stood in front of the cash register. I said I forgot the receipt, to which she replied, “Nice to have you back.”
We agreed to go out to a movie that evening. Six times she hoped we’d go to the new Angelina Jolie flick, and that I’d buy us a large popcorn with lots of butter.
We met by the box office. She was wearing a beautiful black dress. Straight off, I told her we were going to see the Angelina Jolie movie, and then I went to buy us a large popcorn like she wanted. Nurit said there was no need, and got truly annoyed when I told her I was going to buy it anyway. I was starting to freak out that maybe she had changed her mind and I was ruining everything, but I think I got it right because she ended up holding my hand the entire movie. As we walked out of the theater she told me she had a really great time, and I told her I did as well. I considered kissing her, but preferred not to before I knew for certain she was into it.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING she thought it a shame I hadn’t put my arm around her during the movie. Then she thought it was strange that a guy like me had never been in a serious relationship, which actually made me happy, because I admit I was starting to worry about it too. Nine times she thought yesterday was truly perfect, twice that my shirt was kind of ugly, and four times that she couldn’t understand how she had gotten so lucky as to land someone like me. I found it slightly troubling that she had three negative thoughts, but mostly I was happy the date had been a success. Around noon she texted me to suggest meeting at a restaurant by her house, but I suggested we take a long lunch break and sit at the small café in the strip mall. I wanted to keep listening to the radio until the very last second. That way I was able to tell her “I get the feeling you just had a very annoying customer,” and she said it was incredible how well I read her. We order cappuccinos, and sixteen minutes later I told her I had just remembered Benny needed something from me at the shop, and darted back to the storage room to listen to her. She thought it was a little odd, me disappearing on her in the middle of our lunch date, but also that she was having so much fun talking to me that she didn’t really mind.
For our sixth date, I was the one who suggested we meet at the restaurant by her house, because I knew she wanted me to come up to her apartment afterward. It all happened just as she had hoped, including wine and dessert. And when we got into bed, I already knew what she liked. I gently nibbled her ear and pressed up against her once it was over. The following day she thought sex with me was probably the best she had ever had. Which was really nice to hear because I had always suspected I wasn’t very good at it, but I admit the probably bummed me out. Not that I had time to obsess about it, because not a moment later she thought she loved me, like, for real. And I smiled, because it was the first time since the eighth grade that someone had said that to me. I was excited, but at the same time I had this niggling thought that maybe she was about to take it back. That she was overreacting and it wasn’t actually love. But I told myself that as long as I had the radio, that would never happen. I’d make sure to do everything exactly as she wanted, and she’d never leave. Then I listened closely to every thought she had about me. Ninety-three percent were positive, and only seven percent were negative. It made me happy. Even Benny was happy for me, said he always thought we’d hit it off. That we’d probably have good-looking children. Which was another thing that made me happy, because it was something I enjoyed thinking about. But a few hours later, I picked up his station.
Fucking-slouch-doesn’t-even-do-the-bare-minimum-anymore-takes-a-two-hour-lunch-break-every-day-and-for-someone-like-that-not-that-he-had-other-options-such-an-ugly-ass-couple-God-help-them.
Around noon that day, I told Nurit I could only take a thirty-minute lunch break. She said she had the feeling something was bothering me, and I told her about Benny. That I heard him talking about us with a customer. Nurit smiled, said she couldn’t care less what people thought about us, and hugged me tightly. I felt like she was my anchor in this world, and really wanted to tell her about the radio. So I told her I read an article about some scientist in South Korea who was working on a device that could read minds. She was quiet for a while, then said it sounded a bit sad, everyone knowing what’s going on in your head, not having a moment to yourself.
When I returned to the storage room, I didn’t feel comfortable listening to Nurit’s thoughts. I even tried going without for two and a half hours, but I couldn’t take it. I had to know what she thought about the whole Benny thing. So I told myself I’d turn the radio on just for a moment. I heard her yelling to herself that it was a fucking catastrophe. That everyone was probably thinking the same thing. That we truly were an ugly couple. That she wished I wasn’t so indifferent. That she really loved me, but the sex wasn’t as great as she had first thought. And that she didn’t understand why I always had to pop into the shop whenever we sat together. That maybe if she knew what I was doing in there, she’d understand me a bit better. I tried comforting myself that it was okay, that everyone had bad thoughts sometimes. But when I went over the data, I saw there was a 23 percent spike in her negative thoughts about me. It wasn’t that there weren’t any good ones. They were even the majority, 70 percent, but I couldn’t focus on them considering all the bad stuff I heard. Among all her thoughts, one really stuck out—that if by the age of thirty-four I still hadn’t been in a serious relationship, maybe there really was something wrong with me. And out of sheer frustration, I started thinking not-too-great things about her too. That she really was kind of ugly, and not that smart, and that sometimes I got the feeling that all the amazing facts she recounted in her mind about countries were less than accurate. And that very day, I found myself directing all these nasty remarks at her, like the ones she used to hurl at me. For instance, that her jokes weren’t that funny, or that she looked older than her age. And these weren’t just petty, frivolous comments, but verbal jabs aimed directly at her sore spots. I didn’t even need the radio to know I was hurting her feelings. Eleven times she wondered why I was doing it to her, and the problem was I wasn’t too sure myself.
A few days later we met during our lunch break, but didn’t say a word to each other. We remained silent for seventeen minutes and forty-six seconds, until she asked, “What’s going on?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why are you being like this?”
I saw her body stiffen in pain in front of me. I’m not sure why, but it only pissed me off more.
“Because you’re lying to me,” I said. “You think there’s something wrong with me.”
“I never said anything of the sort.”
“But you thought it, didn’t you?”
She remained silent, frozen in her chair. I considered her for a few moments, then stood up, telling her I forgot something back in the shop and starting to walk away.
“Where are you going?” she yelled.
I didn’t answer.
She started running after me, saying she didn’t understand what was going on with me, and that I couldn’t just drop a bomb on her and run away. I entered the shop without looking at her. I was sure she wouldn’t dare make a scene in front of Benny, but before I noticed she ran right past me and into the storage room, locking the door behind her. The radio was turned on to her station. I started pounding on the door, but she wouldn’t open. I peeked through the window. She was standing next to the radio, which broke into blaring static. She covered her ears.
“Turn off the radio,” I yelled at her.
She reached out to the device, but instead of turning it off, she started fiddling with the stations. I felt as if she had stuck her hand inside my head. I shouted at her to stop. To quit it, now. But she carried on. Benny said we both had to get our acts together, but I just kept staring at her while she played with the stations.
She whipped her head up in my direction, but didn’t look at me as much as through me. I felt entirely exposed. I tried listening to my own thoughts, to understand what she was picking up, but it was no use. I put my hands on my head like a shield, but knew it wouldn’t help. I turned around and walked out of the shop. Soon enough, I broke into a run. Benny was yelling at me to come back, but I didn’t care; all I wanted was to get out of her signal range. To get her out of me.
I made it home, took a quick shower, and got into bed. Benny called four times, texted too, but I didn’t answer. I pulled the blanket over my head and tried my hardest to fall asleep.
I woke up late, arriving at the strip mall at 9:41. At the exact moment that I opened the door to the shop, the old man walked out with the radio.
“Wait, it’s not ready,” I said. “I’m not done fixing it.”
“Liar,” he replied, turning his back to me. I tried snatching the thing, explaining that the part from Germany hadn’t arrived yet, but he wouldn’t listen.
“Enough!” Benny yelled. I held onto the radio for another moment, before finally letting go. The old man let out a peeved sigh and shuffled off, eventually disappearing into the parking lot. Benny barked at me that I was crazy, that I couldn’t treat a customer like that. I apologized, said I didn’t know what had gotten into me.
I managed to avoid her the entire day, but the following morning at nine on the dot, there she was, standing at the shop entrance. I kept my eyes on the floor, trying to sidestep her, but she was blocking the door. Wouldn’t let me avoid her. We stood there for a few minutes, until I lifted my gaze and looked at her. I had tons of feelings toward her, but I didn’t know how to deal with not knowing what was going on in her head. There were so many things I wanted to tell her but I didn’t know where to begin. I thought of giving her a peck on her left cheek, which I knew she liked, but I didn’t know if it was still appropriate.
“You kind of suck at this, huh?” she said and smiled.
I smiled back.
NOW I FIX an average of 15.6 devices per day. I’m still waiting for Benny to replace me with his nephew, but frankly his thoughts are a mystery to me. Nurit and I still meet every day, usually in the evening. Sometimes she comes over and I make us pasta with cream and sweet potatoes. She says it’s delicious. I can’t tell if that’s what she honestly thinks, but I tend to believe her. She tells me Istanbul is the only capital in the world that stretches across two different continents, and I quietly think how lucky I am that she didn’t dump me. And sometimes we don’t talk at all, just sit silently side by side until we fall asleep. She won’t tell me what she heard on the radio that day, and I decided it was best not to insist. Since that whole incident in the shop, she hasn’t told me she loves me. I admit it worries me sometimes, but I try not to think about it. I’m not totally sure what we have between us, but maybe some things don’t have to be spelled out.