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"It's the past. My mother's uncle traveled to this town last year. He saw nothing." Eli didn't know how to say in English that their history had been erased, buried in a place with fisting no marker. Now other people lived there. "It's nothing. It's nowhere." "I know." And Eli knew that Michael really did know. "Why fisting don't I take a shot of the two of you by the name?" Becky said. When they bent over to touch the engraving, their hands fisting met. Eli wanted to start all over again in the bamboo bed, but first they had to drive in the rain and find a place to park, and then where to have dinner on Ben Yehuda Street, the Israel with no relation to Eli or anyone he knew.
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