The House Guest: Some Light Relief

Young family friend, on her second trip to Israel alone, exits Ben Gurion Airport and sends a text to her middle-aged host saying “I’m on my way.”  She arrives at the house at midnight, and as arranged tiptoes inside, quiet as a mouse, making her way to the allocated bedroom so as not to wake the household. As soon as she gently closes the door behind her, her host, emerges from her own room, bleary-eyed, to go downstairs to wait for her young guest who—mysteriously—never seems to arrive.

Time passes. No guest. She texts guest. No answer. She calls guest. No answer.

Panic sets in.

Host calls guest’s parents in California. They never received a text saying guest had arrived. Multiple unanswered calls and texts to guest’s phone. “State-of-the-art” phone tracking begins – it says the phone is at 13 Bilu… that address does not exist. Host heads out into the street in the dead of night, scanning sidewalks and shadows near “13 Bilu”. Live location pings to see if host can hear a phone. Nothing. Could it be that the taxi driver murdered her… but in some twisted act of guilt, threw the phone nearby to delay discovery of the body?

Live location is checked again. 11c Bilu. That’s the house address.

Could it be that only the phone is in the house?

Determined to confirm, projecting total calm while on the phone with parents, host heads back inside and gently calls out:

“Guest? Guest, sweetheart, are you there?”

Sure enough, bleary-eyed guest — who, due to jet lag, had fallen into a deep sleep the moment she lay down — answers from upstairs.

“Hello?”

Mystery solved.

Hugs all around. Parents’ heart rates return to normal.

Now we only need to worry about the war.

Phew!