In Ilana’s room, a telephone, as well as two cell phones, are lying on the desk side-by–side.  Inside the telephone, incoming voice-messages accumulate one after the other:

“Ilan baby, how are you this morning, my daughter?  I shall never get used to the idea that you are going to have the Big Event on the beach.  I may be conservative.  As a matter of fact, I am.  But there’s a limit to everything!  Let me hear from you.”

“Ilanchuck, it was so good to see you this morning shining with happiness.  I am happy when you are.  And vice versa.  By the way, did I leave my cell at your place this morning? If so, do phone me and save me from frantic searches.  You know me.  And otherwise, is everything ok?  My married friends tell me of a pre-nuptial depression.  Is this true? If so, do tell me.  What are we girlfriends for? And don’t forget - if you find that cell call me immediately. I can’t survive without the damned thing.”

“Ilan baby, I met Moshe by chance in the mall.  He doesn’t look ok to me. He looks troubled.  This is no way for a handsome young guy to look on the eve of his wedding.  Has anything happened? Tell all to your mom.”

“Halo! Halo! This is Salon Helena.  Please not to forget.  In two days you have the last measurement.”

“Ilana honey, we must talk! Must! Before the last arrangements. We must talk. Seriously.  Phone Moshe who eagerly longs to hear your voice.”

“Ilanchuck, I still can’t find my cell. Nowhere.  I’m going mad. Did I leave it yesterday at your place?”

“Ilana Honey, what are you doing all day long when you are not at home? I’ve asked Sarah but she too is looking for you. You have simply vanished.  Vanished into thin air.  Is it something I said? If so, please- forgive me, though I have no idea what it was I said that hurt you.  Sarah has tried to contact you a number of times.  She has lost her cell.  You know her.  Feather-brained. She too waits for your call. And so do I.  Phone. Send an SMS. Write an email to Moshe.  The computer is on the whole time.”

“Ilanchuck, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Everywhere! I called your cell and you office number. I even went to your permanent chair on the beach. I phoned your mom. She too is desperately looking for you.  I too am desperate.  I can’t find my cell and am lost without it. Maybe I left it with you? And I miss you terribly.  And you must also help me find the right dress for the Big Day.  Nothing grandiose but nevertheless a special dress. After all, it’s not everyday that my best friend gets married.  Who would have believed that you would ever get hooked? I told Moshe, it is only because of your boundless handsomeness and your unique personality that she even dares thinking of marrying you.  Before she met you, she wouldn’t entertain the idea of getting married.  She always describes herself as an observer of life- not a participator. Am I not right, Ilana? Call me. Urgently. And please find my cell.”

“Ilan baby, all my friends tell me: if you don’t want to quarrel with your daughter in the middle of the wedding ceremony, don’t argue with her about the details of the ceremony.  Let her do what she wants. Never argue with the young. Let them have their own ways. Nevertheless, I’m asking you for the last time, in the last minute, just before I go to the printers; Do you sill insist on the wedding being held on the beach? Do you still think the invitation should ask the guests to come bare-footed? And what about the Rabbi, do you expect him too to be bare-footed? No, I don’t interfere. I’m just asking. And something else: why do I have the distinct feeling that your future husband is not so happy about this idea of a bare-footed ceremony on the sand? Sure, he dares not argue with you, but I know what he really feels about this idea. Don’t forget that he comes from a traditional home and that they are not exactly in love with your Tel-Avivian craze. And something else: I must, I must talk to you.  Urgently. Phone your anxious mother!”

“Hi Ilanchuck, what’s going on? Why have you vanished? Why don’t you call me? Is anything wrong? And where are you? Once again, on one of your meditation breaks? Or breathing in the air of the deep, blue sea? Now?  A few days before M-day? I’m beginning to get worried about you.  The cell phone has not been found. Damn it.”

“Baby, Moshe here. Please pick up the phone.  I know you are at home. I can feel it. I can see you sitting there staring at the telephone.  Have you decided not to answer my calls? To punish me? Or is it that famous cloud, which again, has descended on you? Whatever the reason, please pick up the phone. Make an effort. OK Don’t talk. Just pick it up. No. You don’t have to speak. Not a word. Just pick it up and then I’ll know that all is well…I’ve overstepped the message time, so I’m calling again. Don’t talk. Just listen to what I have to say. Perhaps my words will drive away the cloud. How many times did we discuss your tendency to dramatize everything? To over-dramatize? I’m begging you. Treat our bond, treat life, less emotionally, more pragmatically.  In any case, there’s no point to this phone silence. Why disconnect? Why not talk-talk? Please don’t leave me crying my heart out into the digital vacuum. Please let me hear your voice. Or the sound of your breathing. Ill talk and you’ll just listen. I’m waiting.”

“Ilan baby, before I leave for the printers I must finally know whether you insist on this bare-foot nonsense.  Phone mom immediately.”

“Halo.  Here speak Salon Helena. No. Not the lady. It’s the automat. Just to not forget. Last measurement tomorrow. And your dress?  Cool. Real cool. Salon Helena. Please not to forget.”

“Ilana honey, I haven’t heard one word from you for two whole days! Now I’m really worried.  Very worried. I came up to your room this morning.  I rang the bell. I banged on the front door. I knocked hard. The lady next door came out and shouted at me.  The old witch.  But you weren’t at home. Ilana, what’s going on? Is there any misunderstanding between us? If there is something I’m not aware of, lets talk it over. Have you hit the panic button again? I beg you, I’m on my knees, put an end to this silence. Please.”

“Ilan baby, you have literally disappeared with no word to mom. I saw the printers yesterday. I had to approve the text. They could not wait any longer. OK I gave up. The barefoot thing is included in the text. Happy? Give me a sign of life or your mother will go mad just before the happy day. And don’t go back to your pre-Moshe disappearance spells. Remember. Plenty to do before M-day.”

“This is the house of lady Ilana? Salon Helena speaking.  You are hearing me? No, it’s not the lady. It’s the automat. Yes, Salon Helena. We waited for you this morning. You forgot? Last measurement. Then O.K you can come tomorrow morning. Not to forget. The dress is a beauty. Really. Come and see.”

In one of the two cell phones laying near the telephone an outgoing message is stored:

“Moshe. Two things. First: Sarah’s cell is not lost. It’s right here beside me! Secondly, I’m saying goodbye.  Both of us were wrong. I was wrong when I let myself slide into steady relations with you and agreed to wed you, and you were wrong when you deluded a character like me. I am a dragonfly hopping from one place to the other. I keep hovering due to my long transparent, flimsy wings. Thanks to them I hold on and don’t fall into the abyss. You weren’t careful. You broke my wings. I cannot hover any more. Not again. Never again.”

And on the other cell, there is an SMS message:

“I’m at a board meeting, thinking only of you. No courage to talk to I. Bad luck we met only after the wedding was a done deal. What should we do? Loving you more and more.”

At the table sits Moshe. Holding onto his cellphone. The phone rattles when the SMS message appears on its screen:

“You have disconnected the phone? I, too, cannot recuperate from the funeral. When Ilana’s mother refused to shake hands with me and nearly spat at me, I felt that this is only part of the punishment which I deserve. I shall never get over the loss of my best friend. Never. Never shall I forgive myself for being so absent-minded. It’s because of this, that everything happened. And one more thing:  Never send me SMS’s. I forbid it. Damn the SMS’s.”