“I don’t know. I’ve been a wreck all day.”
“That’s obvious.”
“It was all just too much for me.”
And really I’m dead on my feet it can’t be just that damn check something scared me today the world itself. Those broken alleyways… that nude old woman in the yellow water… that feeling of straw in my hair…
I get up to look at the mail I turn on the TV I’m exhausted my eyes close I can’t make out the words Ya’el is cleaning the table the baby’s already asleep. I turn off the light and get into pajamas I put the check in my pajama pocket and look for a newspaper I can hardly move I get into bed and pull the big blanket over me.
It’s ten o’clock. The telephone rings it’s my mother yes says Ya’el to her as though I were a three-year-old yes he’s eaten and now he’s in bed. Her father returns from a walk with a pack of cigarettes he whispers something to her. My eyes shut the newspaper slips to the floor. The old man comes into the bedroom to ask if I bought the present for Gaddi.
“I’m sorry. I forgot.”
He takes thirty dollars from his pocket and puts the bills on the night table by the bed.
“You don’t have to,” I whisper.
But he lays an ashtray on them. He stands there morosely. Ya’el is washing dishes in the kitchen.
“What should I buy him?”
He doesn’t answer.
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll find some little electric train. He’s never even ridden in a train…” He stands silently by my bed tall a handsome man a mane of graying hair bohemian-style on his neck. Fitted into his American suit his fingers stained with nicotine what does he want from me of course to ask about her but he’s afraid to talk.
“You’re going to Jerusalem tomorrow. To Asa’s.”
He gives me a hard look deep in thought he wants to talk but something won’t let him he puffs greedily on his cigarette.
Suddenly he sits down on the bed. Something draws him to me. The fact that I was with her but what more can I tell him. Silence I’m fading out I curl up in the blanket and close my eyes from time to time to see what effect it has. But he goes on sitting there smoking his head in his hand. He’s a worried man. He needs the divorce he has a woman waiting for him there and if I let my intuition run free I’d guess that he’s made a little uncle for Gaddi. It’s quiet except for the dishes my body’s turning to lead.
“If you don’t mind turning off the light, we could sit in the dark for the same price…” I smile weakly hoping it’s my last joke of the day.
He draws back. “What?”
He’s gotten the hint though he straightens up looking down on me from above he turns off the light and leaves the room I bury myself underneath the blanket.
Once upon a time I used to feel desire at this hour but lately someone’s seen to it that I don’t. The baby’s begun to cry but I’m not getting up for her I’ve already put in a full day the title of my next best seller will be How to Subtly Get Your Marriage Partner to Take Care of the Crying Baby. I snuggle deeper into bed. They must be going over my agreement in the loony bin now assuming that the dog hasn’t eaten it why half asleep do I think of her again in the sharp light by the sea you’ve caught some of her madness Kedmi dear Kedmi poor Yisra’el Kedmi you aging hyperactive child who needs to sleep…
TUESDAY
Imagination protects sight
And taking art for act
Protects all life.
Wisdom’s pearls protect the tongue
A ring
The finger….
And so I think of wherewith to protect
Myself against the self’s own self-reversal.
Is this where he lives? On purpose in so drab a neighborhood or are such the meager rewards of a literary career? And does he really write his books facing that ugly peeling wall? He has three different mailboxes two broken and the third a giant new one its upraised slit hungry for mail. A man bounds quickly down the stairs he slows and stops in wonder pirouetting by the mailboxes fondling the air around me he steals a look at me and steps outside turning to look once more before he’s gone. The pain of your beauty wrote one of the boys in my high-school class who used to write to me and which of them didn’t try. Anonymous notes slipped into my schoolbag devious love poems intricately concocted from biblical verses and the sayings of our blessed rabbis with here and there a drop of plain hard filth when one of them beneath his knitted skullcap couldn’t stand it anymore. The Tartar cheeks the blue twinkle that smote their hearts. Because how could one not be in love with you tell me? I will tell you. You cannot be in love with me because you do not know the first thing about me but why shouldn’t you fall in love anyway and meanwhile can I look at your math homework I didn’t understand one single question.
Five minutes to ten. Wait. It’s gauche to come early even coming on time is bad form he’ll think how important I must be to her if she’s timed it so exactly I’m sure I’m not the first or last to pester him like this he’s too big a man for a novice like me but Asi had to prove what wonderful contacts he has. Perhaps he can help you make some contacts. A code word. From contact to contact we’ll all stay in contact until we’re a contact ourselves. My (even if I am being punished) love. My love verily my husband. What shall we do? If you fear my pain how shall I not fear it too?
So I’ll walk down the street a bit I’ll give him ten minutes more. A cloudy morning a chill breeze Jerusalem of cold. Frail cloud. So many young mothers out strolling with their babies all gone down in quick pain sweet perhaps too the whole world. It’s not the penetration that I know but the pain not the pain but the blood. Two years and running out of patience. Put me to sleep and then you can…
And then my mother:
I don’t want to interfere but sometimes a mother must and I can’t sleep at night because of it. You’ve been married for over two years you want your freedom I realize that but perhaps one has to think further ahead.
And my father:
It’s not so much the sin although that too but Asi believes in nothing and he’s managed to convert you you’ve given up the religious faith that we raised you in too easily still it isn’t that although…
And mother:
Don’t start with all that now it’s the medical side of it just the medical side of it that concerns me. You were once very sick I hope you haven’t forgotten and I read in the newspaper don’t laugh that sometimes women put it off because they think that they have all the time in the world but then when they want to they find out that they can’t the sooner the better it doesn’t happen by itself that’s only in novels and even there…
Father:
Why must you always make everything sound so complicated! Yes we want a grandchild. What’s wrong with that? Is it forbidden to want one? We deserve that much happiness God gave us an only child and He knows how hard we tried to have another but your mother couldn’t…
Mother:
Don’t start with all that now for God’s sake let me talk this over calmly it’s not for our sake it’s for yours. We’re in a position to help we’re not like his family which simply isn’t. We’ve actually thought of moving closer to you but it makes more sense for you to move closer to us we’ve even found you an apartment not far from here.
Father:
It’s not just evenings we’ll be able to help it’s days too business is so bad thank God that I can manage to lose money in the store by myself and spare mother for you her time will be yours.
Mother:
In terms of Asa’s getting ahead we’re thinking of his career if that’s the reason.