The Zigzag Kid by David Grossman Page B

minutes for police to find it. This is why I arrange for us this Beetle car. There are so many in Israel, no one will notice. If we drive past police station, policemen will only tip their caps and say, ‘Good day, thank you, and shalom.’ ”
    I maintained my stern, professional silence. What Felix had said about the police began to sink in, and gradually, through the fog, an interesting thought occurred to me.
    â€œYou mean we’re running away from someone?”
    â€œFrom police, I believe, who may not care for what we did on train,” said Felix with a shrug, clicking his tongue three times like a witness to police impropriety. “Sometimes they are old-fashioned this way.” And he added with a chuckle, “Not your father, of course, oh no no no!. Your father is true champion, but the rest are not. You listen to me, your father is best detective in all of Israel!”
    And then two things happened:
    1. My young soul positively crackled with joy that someone else thought as much of Dad as I did.
    2. I suddenly understood the true meaning of Dad’s plan.
    That is, I almost dared to understand it.
    â€œYou mean, the two of us, you and I, are now …” I asked hesitantly, afraid of his answer, “fugi… fugitives from justice?”
    â€œAh, this is lovely way to put it.” Felix smiled. “Yes, yes, we are fugitives from justice.” And he murmured the words to himself again.
    â€œWhat about … tomorrow? Will we also be … fugitives from justice then?”
    â€œAnd also day before yesterday … I mean day after tomorrow. It is up to you until when. What you wish is my command, like Aladdin and his jinni, yes sir!”
    And he gave a salute.
    Just then, the ringmaster of my inner circus raised his whip and I heard a deafening crack in my ears. The band struck up a lively march while inside me, thirty-two acrobats, three fire-eaters, two magicians, a knife thrower, clowns, monkeys, lions, elephants, and five Bengal tigers all leaped into the spotlight and circled round and round … Yes, it was one of those incredible moments when an entire circus runs away with a child, and the euphoric voice of the ringmaster resounded in my shell-like ears: Ladies and gentlemen, beloved audience, let’s hear it for me!
    I sank back in my seat and closed my eyes, hoping these shenanigans would drown out the cool warning whisper that tried to tell me I was wrong and that I didn’t understand what was going on, but I didn’t want to hear any more: Shut up, quit spoiling everything. Felix drove unhurriedly, humming a comical tune syncopated with little clicks of the tongue like a one-man band. I rolled down the window and let the breeze wash over my face. Very refreshing. I sat up straight again. There. That’s better. Everything will be all right now. Everything will return to being clear and simple. At last, after so much confusion and resentment toward Dad and Gabi, the whole plan was coming into focus, the angle, the method, and the audacity of it all: so this was my bar mitzvah present! And this was the man Dad had chosen for the role! Again I gasped at Dad’s ingeniousness. You’d never guess from his outward appearance who and what he is, and how brilliant he is when he wants to be. Sure he keeps a low profile when he’s out on acase; so low, in fact, Gabi claimed it was becoming his second nature, but even I hadn’t guessed he could be so bold and reckless. How I wished I could have heard what Gabi said when he told her his idea.
    She would never leave him now, not after an idea like that.
    I looked at Felix in a new light, too: for Dad to have entrusted him with such a mission, he had to be someone pretty special. The honorable Mr. Special, meanwhile, had put on a pair of simple black sunglasses, without a trace of monocular elegance. He drove with self-assurance, his eyes narrowing behind the shades, though I could tell