(He’s got this new way of laughing. Almost reedy. What’s come over him?)
“Well, someday they’ll be gone, and you’ll be left with a wife who ten years from now will be a notorious beauty. I’ve noticed how people stare at her… right now she’s still half-baked, but give her a few years’ time. She’ll open a lot of doors for you… your father has some knowledge of these things…”
(Did he really wink at me? How revolting!)
“Of course, we talked about you too. They’re very fond of you. Maybe fond isn’t the word, but they do respect you, perhaps even fear you a bit. And her they absolutely adore. If you treat her like a little girl, they still treat her like a baby, waiting on her hand and foot, thrilled with every step and bite of food that she takes. I’m glad you don’t live any nearer to them — if you did they’d crawl into bed with you at night from sheer concern and devotion…. Perhaps if you gave them a grandchild they might bother you less. Take my advice, think it over. I know how you value your time, but it’s still worth considering. She doesn’t really have a steady job anyway… so why not let her raise a child and write her poems? They alluded to it a few times themselves, trying to get me on their side. I suppose you must hear it all the time from them. Perhaps their rabbi is after them, heh heh… and yet they’re good, simple people. We must seem like freaks to them. I saw how they kept looking at me, and I couldn’t help wondering whether they knew the whole story about mother or whether you had spared them the gory details…. Don’t think they’re not in awe of you, though. You can consider yourself lucky that they didn’t come to hear you lecture about that young Miss Zasulevich whom you described so vividly, as though she were a friend of yours…
“Zasulich, right, excuse me. Zasulich? What really could she have been like? Most likely simply another one of your disturbed young persons — after all, you yourself said that that general was a friend of her parents. To go and shoot him just because of something she had read… oh no, you can’t convince me that it was a matter of ideology. What I look for in such cases is always the personal angle, and I wish my historian friends would get off their high horses and look for it too. Connie has taught me to pay more attention to the psychological fine points, and believe me, it’s as though a curtain had gone up on my world. But to do that you’d have to read in the original… in Russian…”
“I’m studying it now.”
“Are you! I’m glad to hear that. I’m sorry I don’t live close enough to help with it…. What was that?”
“What?”
“Those metal things sticking up back there.”
“It’s an air force memorial.”
“A new one?’
“No. It was there in your time too.”
“I’ve never noticed it before.”
“How often were you ever in Jerusalem?”
“That’s so. Those last years I was hardly there. I was imprisoned with her in the house. Every time I went out was a production. But you’ve forgotten all that, and now you blame me for trying to salvage what’s still left of my life…. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I know. I heard you tossing in bed. Why don’t you close your eyes? I promise you I’ll shut up…”
“You don’t have to. I’ll never sleep on this bus.”
“You’re driving yourself too hard… deliberately… I could see it in your class. You’re so intense, like a bowstring… you’ll burn out quickly, old man. And where did you get all that pathos from? Is it really from me? Certainly not the power of it, though… and you’ve chosen such gloomy subjects. Although you do have a talent for making things seem important. Even when you were a tot you’d come home from school and have the whole family breathless with some account of a cat or a fly that you’d seen on your way…. Where are we now? What happened to the Trappist monastery that used to be here? Or am I completely confused?”
“We’re on a new bypass now.”
“Ah, yes, the famous new road. I read about it. There was even some picture in the paper of the ceremony when the Prime Minister or the President cut the ribbon. Zionism isn’t dead yet if we still hold such pageants for a few kilometers of paved road.”
“You were on it yesterday too.”
“I didn’t notice. I’ve no head for landscape, old fellow. I hardly know where I am yet, though I’ve been here four days. Ail right, the first day I slept right through, I was simply dead on my feet. Day Two I waited for Kedmi, who insisted on going alone to the hospital and came back empty-handed. Yesterday I spent with you, and today I’m going back again. God only knows what she’s cooked up for us. I don’t trust anyone anymore. And I was so sure that it would only be a matter of a day or two, the signatures, the divorce ceremony, everything, and that I’d be free to spend some time with you afterwards, to see old friends, to look for books. Everything was supposed to be settled. All those letters back and forth, the long-distance phone calls… Kedmi drove me crazy with the tiniest details, he’d call me about them in the middle of the night — collect, of course. He enjoyed torturing me…. What’s that over there?”
“I don’t know. What? That forest?”
“No, over there.”
“It’s just some little army camp.”
“Do you think you could close your window a bit? It’s terribly windy outside. Don’t tell me it’s raining again!”
“I can’t tell ”
“Ya’el told me that there hasn’t been a winter like this here for years. I know you’re angry at me for dragging you up there today. You’ve always made people feel that your time is a valuable commodity. Never mind, though: you can lose a day of your life for your father’s sake — and for your mother’s too. Believe me, it’s also for her. So you’ll get your professorship one day later….I simply couldn’t bear the thought of having to face her all by myself. And Ya’el is immobilized whenever the two of us start to quarrel. If only Tsvi had been willing to come. But he wasn’t…. Well, it doesn’t matter. You haven’t seen her for so long that you owe her a visit anyway. Kedmi claims that he’s seen more of her these past few years than you and Tsvi put together. And even if he’s exaggerating as usual, we can’t let ourselves be talked about like that. People will say that we’ve thrown her to the dogs. After all, Tsvi was always close to her, and you should visit her too now and then even if it is far away. Where are we turning off to now?”
“To the airport. From there we take the Petah Tiqva road.”
“Ah, I see. And this four-lane highway continues to Tel Aviv?”
“Yes.”
“Tel Aviv is the place I miss most, and in four days this is the closest that I’ve gotten to it. The humidity… the sea smells… the broad sidewalks with the café tables already set out on them in early afternoon… Jews who visit this country always talk up Jerusalem and run down Tel Aviv — and I let them. Just try telling them that Zionism began with men who left Jerusalem for the coastal swamps. Who can appreciate that today? Jerusalem, Jerusalem, it’s a regular cult….I want you to do the talking for me there. Explain to her that it’s all finished- Talk about freedom, human values. Your moral judgments always counted a great deal with her. Be gentle but firm in that imposing way that you have…. After all, you’re on my side, we see eye to eye. Ya’el gets too emotional, that’s why it’s best for her not to talk. I won’t say any more than I have to either. Because once I start, everything will flare up… I’ll keep my mouth shut, you’ll see…’’