"Pacific Centre for Violence Prevention" by Tatamata, April 2012

Disclaimer: All characters presented here are product of fiction. Any resemblances to real characters are of a pure coincidence. No intention was made to insult anyone for any reason.

AN: This story is an act of fiction. No one should attempt to act in the same manner as described.

AN2: None.

Summary: On May the 14th, 1948, twenty-four hours before Britain's mandate to rule in Palestine was scheduled to end, Israel's first Prime Minister, David Ben Gurion, proclaimed the independence of the state of Israel.

Pacific Centre for Violence Prevention

As Stephen P. Halbrook was watching many birds eat small stones to aid in digestion, Oliver Harvey, a potential Nazi party member, joined him.

"The stones help grind up food in the crop." Stephen spat aside, trying to imitate some tough guy. "Occasionally …", he glanced at Oliver and gulped dry, realizing that Oliver had some inborn power that made him always look … superior. "These stones make their way through the digestive system and, well ... ", Stephen exhaled, realizing that he could not always be the one to dominate, "… they come out the other end." In fact, he probably even hated the Nazis.

"Do you know that I have a varicocele, and have had an unsuccessful embolization procedure and am due for another in the near future, although I would prefer to progress to the surgical procedure to be done with it, as I am reasonably hairy so the prospect of a scar does not concern me?"

Stephen stared for good ten seconds at sudden emotional outburst from Oliver, trying to figure out what made him feel so inferior just minutes ago since this tiny soprano of Oliver's voice resembled more an eunuch than some masculine macho guy. He even giggled within himself, nodding at Oliver to continue.

"Go ahead … please …" Stephen's brain finally digested the whole meaning of what Oliver just said and it was truly hard not to laugh despite the seriousness of his condition.

"However …", they paced along, approaching a wide cave opening in the distance, "… I am much more concerned about my penis size." Stephen had to pinch himself in secret and prevent the disastrous laughter that would probably worsen their mutual trust. "Although it would appear that I fall into the smaller-medium end of the 'average size', I am still very unhappy." Stephen watched seagulls flying above them, sunshine making the surface of the Ocean glisten. Oliver continued in his modulated monotone. "This has greatly affected my self confidence, and I find it hard to …", he smiled at Stephen, "… even attempt to … form relationships with women with the worry that they will be disappointed with my endowment, or, rather … the lack of it!" While Oliver was deadly serious, Stephen had to pinch himself again, only this time even more so, since the absurdity of the statement was hilarious, to say at least.

They soon descended towards the entrance of the hidden cave.

"For this very reason I have researched … even through search engine …", Oliver lost his balance on the crude stone stairs and Stephen offered him help, "… enlargement on the www and have found many sites, with many claims of success and benefits, including healthier prostate, urinary function and potency." Oliver exhaled and Stephen remembered his first girlfriend suddenly. "Many of the sites use herbal remedies as well as exercises and nutritional changes. There also appear to be books available on this subject too!" Oliver had a worried expression of his face. "However …", he stopped and Stephen disliked the squinting due to the sun. "I am hesitant to pay money for such amateur sites, and was wondering whether you could recommend details of any exercises …"

"You mean … like kerdel?"

"That's right! You know …", they continued to approach the ominous cave entrance, some cold air announcing the temperature change, "... remedies or other which might help my … my penis fitness … health?"

Stephen stared at Oliver for five seconds not knowing whether he was being sincerely honest or the whole story was just some prank in order to hide some other kind of fear or similar. Oliver felt nervous and continued on his own.

"Also when my varicocele is effectively treated, will there be any noticeable effects on my penis size …"

"You mean like … increased blood flow?"

"Yes! That's what worries me. And …", he scratched himself behind the ear and Stephen crossed his arms, partially due to the rush of the cold air from the cave, "… could drug abuse, including nicotine and alcohol …", he waited for Stephen to answer the call over the radio, "… could it have affected the outcome of my initial embolization procedure somehow?" Stephen measured Oliver's eyes, letting him continue on his own again. "I would be forever grateful if you could answer any of these many queries that have been bouncing around my head for a considerable period of time." Oliver exhaled impatiently, obviously feeling a bit uneasy for opening himself so suddenly. "And … thanks." Ha placed an arm on Stephen's shoulder and then removed it immediately almost as if it was hot.

"Well … Oliver …", Stephen approached the entrance of the moist cave, finding the light switch and some flashlights, "… you have asked for a great deal of information … but …", he eyed Oliver again and then grinned at his shivering, "… let me reassure you on some important points."

They have started to descend into the cave, temperature changing drastically with each new step.

"Any surgery for a variocele … which do sometimes recur …", he checked on Oliver with a hidden sneer, "… will leave a very small scar." Oliver gazed at the vastness of the cave that spread in each direction, amazed by the unbelievable contrast wit what was on the surface above. "Any surgery performed for penile enlargement at the same time is extremely unlikely and most certainly would not be performed on the NHS."

They have reached the center of the cave, Stephen spreading his arms around, smiling benevolently.

"Before you start down the road of penile enhancement remember that men tend to compare themselves unfairly." He went in a professional way, examining some bat droppings. "Use a mirror sideways and not looking straight down. Don't look at men in urinals as they will always appear large for exactly this reason." He smiled in a friendly way at Oliver and Oliver was instantly relived, finding a new friend who he could trust.

"I've found one commercial organization from Israel …", Oliver started but was intercepted by Stephen's waving hand.

"Most claims from commercial organizations are either overblown or inaccurate." He paused, examining Oliver's dilated pupils due to the light intensity. "Most important is to reduce the adverse effects of being overweight, drinking excessively or smoking."

"But I don't smoke and …" Stephen smiled and continued as if he was all alone.

"Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but everyone agrees when something is totally cool." He exhaled and stared at the hanging bats. "I can only imagine the superlatives that issued forth from workmen at a quarry near Beit Shemesh when they accidentally blasted their way into the Soreq Cave in 1968." Oliver was puzzled at first and then remembered that it was him who mentioned Israel, after all. "Although only 30 minutes from my mother-in-law's home …", Stephen suddenly felt superior and liked the sensation, "… I had never been tempted to visit because …", he exhaled, feeling almost guilty in a way, "Frankly …", he eyed Oliver in some special way, remembering his sympathies for Adolph Hitler and that stuff, "… as a photographer, I shun places that have no light." He waved around. "But a winter storm and school vacation combined to motivate our family to make the short trip during Chanukah and …", he grinned at Oliver, "… we were not disappointed."

"Aren't you afraid of those Israeli civilians armed with automatic weapons?" Oliver paused, his heart beating a bit faster. "I mean … I've seen such praying in front of that … Wailing Wall, correct?"

"That's right. The Wailing Wall in Jerusalem." Stephen grinned, remembering their previous conversation. "But I am a photographer …", he paced some more towards the grim cave ending. "The photographs of the cave I had seen prior to my visit here …", he smiled at Oliver, noticing that he was wondering as well what may lie beyond that small tunnel at the end of the cave, "… much like the four I offer here, do not do justice to the experience of being inside the huge cave."

They approached the opening of that small tunnel, Stephen throwing reflections of his flashlight at its moist rim. The air smelt of seawater and some rotting algae. "The millennia-old stalactites and stalagmites, ever growing and changing, are lit with carefully positioned spotlights that enhance the stunning visuals." He pointed at the ceiling above them. "Using this available light with my f1.4 50mm lens and ISO cranked up to 800, I grabbed a few shots during the short walk through the cave and several more during the two-minute shooting time allotted at the end of the tour."

"You're talking of … Israel?"

"That's right!" Stephen continued to remove some oblong rocks that stood on his way to the tunnel entrance. "In addition to working in extremely limited light, I had to overcome lens fogging as a result of bringing my cold camera into the humid cave." He coughed, smelling some rotting methane smell suddenly, waving with his hand and checking on his hand held gas reader. "I wasn't prepared for this and was stymied for about 10 minutes until my camera warmed up enough to stop moisture forming on the glass. " He laughed a bit, Oliver trying to relax. Stephen opened his cell phone and showed Oliver some photographs.

"These four shots represent some of the diversity found in the cave." Oliver examined photographs, nodding in approval. "The lower right image features what is called a wall, where stalactites forming from above meet stalagmites growing up from the ground." Stephen packed his cell phone, moving towards the exit again. "For all of us …", he turned and looked sadly behind him, "… bearing witness to such phenomena in nature fulfilled any need to capture a perfect image for posterity. Truly a cave of wonders." Oliver tried to recall those images he just saw on Stephen's cell phone.

After they made an exit, Oliver was pleased to feel the warmth of the sun again, thawing like an ice-cream.

"Did you know that during the war years the Rifleman regularly included pleas for American sportsmen to 'send a gun to defend a British home'?" Oliver squinted, wondering what made Stephen change the topic suddenly. Then he saw a large dirigible in the air, Union Jack flag painted all over it. It looked as if it was unnaturally suspended in the air. As if there was no wind. Oliver was amazed at the picture. Stephen just glanced over it, continuing as they climbed back to the open area.

"Slogan was: 'British civilians, faced with the threat of invasion, desperately need arms for the defense of their homes'." He grinned sardonically noticing a high altitude passenger jet plane leaving white trail behind it. "Indeed …", he stepped on the rock, watching Oliver, "… the New York Times carried the same solicitations, in fact." Stephen stared at some walruses sun bathing at the rocks in the vicinity. "After two decades of gun control …", he exhaled, feeling suddenly tired, "… British citizens now desperately needed rifles and pistols in their homes, and they received the gifts with great appreciation." Stephen paused and Oliver could almost sense that there was some hidden pain underneath that professional veneer of self-assured business mode. "Organized into the Home Guard …", Oliver blinked from the sudden hateful note, Stephen's eyes snaking him in some ominous content, "… armed citizens were now ready to resist the expected Nazi onslaught."

They continued to pace along, sunshine offering false picture as if the water around the island was warm enough to swim in it.

"With so many men and guns sent abroad to fight the war, America still needed defending from expected invasions on the East and West coasts, domestic sabotage …", Stephen grinned at Oliver, "… and of course … the Fifth Column activity." Oliver suddenly remembered his application to become member of the British National Front political party. "Sportsmen and gun clubs responded by bringing their private arms and volunteering for the state protective forces." Stephen smirked in secret at Oliver's pants, shaking his head in disbelief, remembering their previous conversation.

After they watched seagulls for a while, Oliver smiled, feeling completely rejuvenated and inspired, filling his lungs with fresh Ocean air.

"Did you know that military orders now forbid the French to do things which the German people have not been allowed to do since Hitler came to power?"

"Really?" Stephen suddenly became aware that he never truly bothered about the French before.

"Yes!" Oliver was exhilarated that he could offer something that Stephen did not know. "To own radio senders or to listen to foreign broadcasts, to organize public meetings and distribute pamphlets, to disseminate anti-German news in any form, to retain possession of firearms …", he almost giggled in sudden explosion of ecstatic security and friendliness, "… all these things are prohibited for the subjugated people of France!"

"Such a pity …" Stephen answered imitating French accent and they both burst into laughter, their captain eyeing them from the dock, fishing boat gently rocking on the waves behind.