“I hope you weren’t frightened.”
I manage an ironic smile by now the whole family has me surrounded half a dozen short swarthy gangsters invite me to sit down but I still can’t get a word out I’m dazed from fatigue and excitement I raise one hand in a crazy salute and whisper thank you. I’m in a hurry all I need now’s to have to sit down and eat eggplant I turn to go opening a small door they rush to my side but already I’m in a tiny bathroom facing an old witch sitting naked in yellow water lit by the lurid glare of a heater Lord have mercy she whispers in terror already gentle hands are pulling me out she takes my arm lightly and steers me to the exit leading me down the stairs she’s worked a year for me now and I never knew she had such straight lithe legs they make me feel for her how was I to know when she’s always bundled up behind the desk we’re standing in the dark street now.
“I can see you were really frightened.” She does her best not to laugh. “You really were.”
I stand shaken in the desolate darkness.
“What a pity it didn’t occur to you that I know how to read. You might have left me a note.”
“You’re right. I didn’t think of it.”
I pat her head careful not to choke her.
IQ. That’s what it all boils down to. Their IQ evaporated in the Islamic sun. And that’s something you can’t give them along with their social security. Again I’m running through the alleyways looking for my car I’ve already got a title for my fifth book The Secret Life of the Underprivileged in the end I’ll write a book with nothing but the titles of the books I never wrote I’m lost in the sands of this ruined wadi at last I find my car I turn on the light I take out the check to make sure that it still has all the zeros I start the motor and depart from this vale of tears.
Gaddi opens the door for me now I remember what I’ve forgotten it’s his present. The lights are all on in the house the baby’s in her high chair in the living room surrounded by toys facing the TV watching Begin on the Arabic news the dining table is full of dirty dishes scattered papers a tube of paint grandpa is sitting drinking coffee Gaddi runs to bring me a big picture Ya’el comes out of the kitchen in an apron.
“What happened? We were so worried. I didn’t understand a thing. What hundred thousand pounds went down the drain?”
“It didn’t. It came back up again.”
“Did you see my mother?”
“Of course.”
“Did something go wrong?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
I head for the bathroom with her on my heels and Gaddi on hers.
“We didn’t know when you’d come, so we ate without you.”
“That’s okay. I just hope you left something for me.”
“Of course we did. Did something go wrong, Kedmi?”
“If you’d allow me to take a leak there might be some prospect of your serving me supper.”
I shut the door in Gaddi’s face to keep him from gate-crashing with his picture. I pee I wash my hands and face at the sink I go around the house turning off unneeded lights finally I sit down at the table. Grandpa moves his chair closer to me his face pale and serious.
“So tell us…”
“In a minute. Just let me first put something in my stomach to draw the blood down there so that it doesn’t explode in my brain. If Kedmi gets a stroke, the Kaminkas will pay dearly.”
I settle into my chair take the check from my pocket place it on the table read it like the morning paper it’s certainly better news. He gets up stricken and walks about the room Ya’el sends Gaddi to the bathroom the baby quiets down so does Begin there’s just background music now. Ya’el looks pitifully gray and tired.
“Didn’t you eat all day long? Your mother called a few times to say she was waiting for you for lunch. Where did you disappear to? Did something happen?…Why don’t you say something?…She was terribly worried.”
“Then call her and tell her that I’m here with my mouth full of food. You can spare me the pleasure and her the worry…”
All at once he stops pacing the room and bursts out:
“What happened? Did you see her?”
“Of course I did. Could I have some more egg, please?”
“How is she?”
“She’s fine. She was watering the trees.”
“But what did she say? How did she receive you?”
“Very hospitably. By the way, you have regards from the dog. He thanks you for the powder, Ya’el.”
I take a last look at the check I fold it and replace it in my pocket. “Did she sign?”
“Almost. She wants to think about it some more.”
“To think?”
“Such things happen.”
Why am I doing this to them? Is it just my lousy character?
At last Ya’el exclaims almost in tears:
“Can’t you talk like a human being? You insisted on going by yourself and now it’s like pulling teeth to get a word out of you.”
“All right, all right. I only wanted to eat in peace. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you were so impatient.” (Kissinger presents his report to the Israeli government.) “I arrived there at three-thirty. I spoke with a young doctor whom I had to wake up. He said she was in good shape. A few of her friends in the hospital knew what I had come for too. I found her tanned and spry-looking, watering the trees. I don’t know if that’s some new sort of therapy but in any case it definitely works. There’s no comparing the way she is now with her condition several years ago. Do you remember that time I was with you, Ya’el?”
Her father leans toward me his legs spread menacingly Ya’el looks at me with loathing.
“I told her you had arrived and that you looked well. She asked if you still had a cramp in your neck and I said that I hadn’t noticed any cramp there. Then she asked if you were bothering the children.
I said on the contrary, the children are happy that you’re here. I did tell her that you were finding it difficult to adjust to Israeli time. I gave her the agreement and recommended it. She asked if she had to read it. I said yes because that’s our professional duty, not to let people sign any contract or document that they haven’t read. They won’t understand it anyway, but it’s better for them to feel that they’ve read it without understanding it than that they haven’t understood it without reading it, ha ha…” (No one laughs.) “She tried to read it but she couldn’t because her glasses are broken. Or maybe the dog ate them. You really should take care of it, Ya’el. So I read it to her. She listened quietly while I explained all the fine points to her, how her rights are all guaranteed. I really did talk carefully and gently but she hardly seemed to respond. She just asked once about you, Ya’el…’’
“Why I hadn’t come…”
“Precisely. But I explained why and she understood. I told her you’d come tomorrow or the day after and meanwhile we agreed that she’d think it over and sign and give the agreement to you. Of course we’re pressed for time. I tried telling her that as gently as I could….Could I have another cup of tea? I’m totally bushed. I’ve been running all evening after this check…”
“She won’t agree,’’ blurts the old man hopelessly. He leaves the room. Deep down I know that he’s right.
“Why won’t she?” I object. “That’s not my impression. Can I have some more tea or do I have to request it in writing?”
Ya’el brings me tea her hands shaking she takes the baby from her chair and puts her into her crib Gaddi shows me his picture some tall women standing in the rain.
“It’s a terrific picture.” I kiss him and send him off to bed.
Ya’el’s father has disappeared. She looks at me hostilely.
“What’s gotten into you?”