Israel opened the door. He froze in the doorway, looking at the woman standing in front of him, at her slender face and tired eyes. She still wore her jeans, now covered with fine red dust.
“I wanted to leave on the afternoon plane,” she said, “but there was nobody here. And I couldn’t leave without apologizing to you. I just couldn’t.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Your house was dark all evening.”
“I’m not eager to show my face. Though I don’t really know why.” He took a step in her direction. “So how do you like your husband’s native land? Too bad you can’t write him and share your impressions. Unfortunately, there is no postal service between here and there.”
“I don’t know what came over me,” she said. “I can’t understand why I did what I did. I had been standing there, watching them beating you—”
He placed his hand over her mouth.
“Shhh. I don’t want Dov to find out what happened. You owe me that.”
She took his hand away from her mouth, but didn’t let go of it.
“Can you forgive me?” she said.
“I can do better; I can explain it all to you,” he said. “What good would my forgiveness do you? Nobody has every really forgiven anybody, and yet life goes on.”
“Please, forgive me,” she said.
“There isn’t all that much to forgive,” he said. “I understand why you behaved the way you did. It was because your husband was a Jew and you loved him. Your tender heart made you hit me because I wouldn’t defend myself. Love is by no means simple, but it’d be hard to live without it. Love justifies almost anything. It’s one of man’s greatest inventions.”
“Don’t speak that way,” she said. “I don’t want to understand why it happened. I want to ask your forgiveness. If I do something wrong, I want to make up for it.”
“Better don’t,” he said. “Too many people have been hurt by good deeds and good women. Better go back to Europe tomorrow. And try to remember only the good things.”
“That’s what I plan to do,” she said. “I’ll take the morning flight to Tel Aviv and from there I’ll fly to Athens. Then I’ll decide what to do next.” She reached into her pocket and took out some bills. “Here’s your money,” she said. “We both forgot about it. I owe you for the ride.”
He stood still for a few seconds, then reached out his hand for the money and stuck it in his pocket.
“Yes, I can accept it now,” he said. “You saw something, after all. My conscience is clean. And, as Dov said, we need the gelt.”
He could feel her body moving closer to his, yet he remained still. He felt her lips on his, and then he felt her hands pulling him after her. He took a step forward and began to follow her in the direction of the light coming from the open door of the neighboring house. He stopped in the doorway to look back at the lighted window and the silhouette of a man leaning on the sill. It seemed to him he could see Dov’s heavy shoulders, which were covered with sweat, even though the big man wiped them regularly with the towel that hung, gleaming whitely, over his arm. Israel stood there for a moment touching his bruised face and breathing hard. He looked at the dark mountains over the desert and at the sky over the bay; then he went in and closed the door.
HE WAS SITTING NEXT TO URSULA ON THE WARM SAND; it was noon. The beach was empty except for the two youngsters he saw descend from the plane the other day, now in their scuba gear, seeming not to mind the stifling heat.
“They look like visitors from Mars in those masks and with those air tanks on their backs,” he said. “I hope they know there are sharks around here. I don’t think either of them speaks Hebrew.”
“Look!” she said. “It’s unbelievable.”
“What?”
“That old couple from the airport,” she said.
He moved his head and saw the old woman leading her husband. The man was walking stiffly, playing with the microphone of his hearing aid. As before, they were both dressed in black. The only difference was that the man wore no hat today and his head had turned red from the sun; he was looking much worse than yesterday, and his eyes had sunk deeper into his skull. He said something to his wife — it seemed to them that he wanted to rest a minute — but the woman pulled him on in silence.
“Old people, when the notion gets them, there’s no telling what they’re gonna do,” Israel said. “They were supposed to leave yesterday on the afternoon plane.”
“Maybe they like it here,” she said.
“Do you believe that?”
“Why not?” she asked. “Eilat is the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited. And it looks different every half-hour. The mountains change as the sun climbs over them. And at night it gets so dark you can’t see anything three steps away.”
“There isn’t much to see here,” he said. “They should see Dov; then they can leave.”
“There’s your Dov,” she said.
She pointed to the jeep coming fast along the edge of the sea; three terrified passengers clung to their seats.
“Has he gone mad?” she asked. “Why is he going so fast? Those people will go crazy with fear.”
“Everybody enjoys driving fast here,” Israel said. “Don’t worry, no one’s gonna get hurt. The worst thing that can happen to them is a spill into the bay. I think that’s what Dov wants. I know him. His sense of humor is different from other people’s. But you can get used to it.”
“I don’t think he has any sense of humor,” she said, staring after the departing jeep. “It seems he doesn’t like anybody and is angry at everyone.”
“His wife left him,” Israel said. “That’s when he began acting odd. It happens to men when their women leave them. To some of them.”
“It also happens to women when men leave them.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot of stories. All very moving. But with Dov’s wife it’s different. She’s going to have another man’s kid. And the worst thing is almost everybody knows about it and keeps reminding Dov.”
“And you’re the only one helping him?”
“It’s he who’s helping me,” he said. “He’s always helped me find work; this jeep was his idea, too. He brought me here. I’m staying in his brother’s house.”
“Yes, I know that,” she said. “But that’s not the problem, your living in his brother’s house, is it?”
“What problem are you talking about?” he asked. “For the past few hours I thought I had no problems. Please, don’t disillusion me.”
“I don’t think you want to live in his brother’s house,” she said.
“No?”
“I think you want to live in Dov’s skin,” she said. “You wish you were like him.”
He looked at her and smiled, but his eyes didn’t move.
“That’s not funny,” she said.
“People are always funny,” Israel said. “Even if they say or do terrible things.”
“I hadn’t meant to offend you,” she said. “And I could be wrong. But I don’t think a man can change that much; I don’t believe you can become a Dov. And I don’t see any need for it.”
“So what do you think I should do?”
She didn’t answer him, only lifted her hand; he looked to where she was pointing and saw a plane coming in for a landing, its undercarriage out; then the plane flew over their heads and Israel lowered his gaze. Their eyes met.
“Why think about it?” he said.
“You don’t have to think about it,” she said. “Just go back to it, that’s all. Try studying; it’s still possible.”
“Over here they don’t like people who go back to Europe,” Israel said. “Actually, it’s more than just a question of liking. They say about them: these people are going down. And about those who come here, they say they are going up.”