Tamar said:
"You must understand, Fima. It's not up to me."
"Disentangle yourself," Fima said. "What is there to love in him anyway? Or maybe it's not he you're in love with but your own unrequited affection?"
"Philosophizing," said Tamar. "When you try to be clever, you're a real idiot, Fima."
"Yes, an idiot," Fima said, and a shy smile spread on his lips. "I know. And yet I think I've found the answer for you. Bug."
"I don't get it," said Tamar. "Why don't you just keep quiet for a while and let me finish this crossword?"
"Bug, sweetheart. The Eastern European river in three letters. Incidentally, historically speaking, the river Bug…"
"Stop it, Fima. Once in a blue moon I say two words about myself; why do you have to go changing the subject and speaking historically? Why can't you listen for a moment? I can never get a word in. With anyone."
Fima apologized. He hadn't meant any harm. He'd make her a glass of tea and get himself coffee, and then he'd shut up like a clam. He'd help her do her crossword and not philosophize at all.
But once they were sitting down together drinking, Fima could not restrain himself. He started outlining his peace plan to Tamar. This very night he would call a meeting of the cabinet and describe ruthlessly to the ministers the surgery they must apply at once to rescue the state. When he said "surgery," he suddenly had a vivid image of the expression of Prussian arrogance on Gad Eitan's face. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Dr. Eitan was not only an excellent gynecologist but also the clinic's anesthetist. As the need arose, he anesthetised his own patients and Wahrhaftig's.
Tamar said:
"My misfortune, Fima, is that I can't stop loving him. Even though I haven't got one chance in a million with him, even though I've known for a long time that he's a cruel man and that he loathes me. What can I do when all the time, for years now, I feel that underneath his cruelty there's a hurt little boy hiding, a lonely little boy who doesn't hate women, he's frightened of them, he's afraid that he just won't be able to stand another blow? It may be just cheap psychology. Or maybe he's still in love with his wife who left him? Maybe he's waiting for her to come back to him? Maybe the reason he's so poisonous is because inside he's full of tears. Or do you think I've just seen too many romantic films? Often, when he torments me, I feel he's really calling out to me like a little boy lost. Try arguing with your feelings. What's a country in Africa, eleven letters, third letter E, eighth letter also E?"
Fima's eyes explored the recovery room through die open door, the reception area, the desk, as though he was looking for an answer to her question. An air conditioner. Reproductions of a Degas and a Modigliani. Two unpretentious plants in hydroponic gravel. A white fluorescent tube. Pale green wall-to-wall carpet. A clock with Roman numerals. A telephone. A combined coat and umbrella stand. A basket full of magazines. A few magazines lying on the table. A blue leaflet: "Osteoporosis — Accelerated Deterioration of the Bones: A Guide for Women. Which women are especially vulnerable? High-risk groups: Underweight women. Women with fine bone structure. Women who have had their ovaries removed. Women who have undergone radiation therapy and ceased to produce estrogen. Women who have never been pregnant. Women with a family history of the condition. Women who have been on a low-calcium diet. Women who smoke. Women who do not take sufficient physical exercise, or whose consumption of alcohol is excessive, or who suffer from hyperthyroidism."
He peered at another explanatory leaflet, in purple this time, on the table in front of him. "My Little Secret the Menopause: Hormone-Replacement Therapy. What is menopause? What are female hormones and how are they produced? What are the characteristic signs of the onset of menopause? What are the changes resulting from decreased production of female hormones? Comparative graph of estrogen and progesterone. What are hot flashes and when can you expect them? What is the connection between estrogen, high blood-fat levels, and heart disease? Is it possible to improve your ability to cope emotionally with the changes in your body at this time of life?"
Fima contented himself with reading the main headings. Tears of compassion suddenly flooded his eyes, not for a specific woman, Nina, Yael, Annette, Tamar, but for womanhood in general. The separation of humankind into two sexes struck him as an act of cruelty and an irreparable injustice. He felt that he had a share in this injustice and was therefore partly to blame, because he had sometimes unintentionally benefited from its consequences. Then he thought for a while about the punctuation of the leaflet and how it could be improved. Whoever left these leaflets here foolishly forgot that men sometimes come to the clinic, including religious men: problems of infertility and so forth. Pamphlets like these might embarrass them. Women might even be embarrassed, waiting and watching a man reading this kind of literature. Then he recalled that it was he himself who put the pamphlets out: he had never looked at them before. Also, despite the risk of embarrassment or tactlessness, various pictures, ornaments, and souvenirs were displayed on the walls and shelves bearing messages of thanks from grateful patients. They signed their dedications only with their initials or with their first name and the first letter of the surname, like that brass dish from Carmela L., "in eternal gratitude to the dedicated and wonderful staff." Fima had not forgotten this Carmela, because one day he heard that she had killed herself. Even though she always struck him as somebody outstandingly courageous and cheerful. The mayor of Jerusalem ought to ban the use of the word "eternal," at least within the city limits.
He began to comb the map of Africa in his mind from north to south, from Egypt to Namibia, and then again from east to west, from Madagascar to Mauretania, looking for the country that was holding up Tamar's crossword puzzle. While he did so, he conjured up a vision of Gad Eitan, the arrogant catlike Viking, as a miserable unloved child wandering forlornly through the jungles and deserts of Africa. He could not find the answer. But he asked himself whether those who came after us, Yoezer and his contemporaries, living here in Jerusalem a hundred years from now, would also be solving crossword puzzles. Would they too suffer the humiliation of unrequited love? Would they button their shirts wrong? Would they be condemned to a lack of estrogen? Would abandoned children in a hundred years continue to roam forlornly around the Equator? Fima could feel sadness gripping him. In his sadness he was ready to lean over and hug Tamar. To press her wide face to his chest. To stroke her beautiful hair, which was gathered in a chaste bun at the back, like a pioneer's in the previous generation. If he were to suggest that she sleep with him here and now, on the sofa in the recovery room, she would no doubt turn red and white in alarm, but in the end she would not refuse him. After all, they would be alone till four o'clock at least. He could give her more pleasure than she had ever known in her life, and draw forth laughter, pleas, sobs, whispered requests, low groans of surprise, sounds that would produce in him too the sweetest pleasure he knew: the joy of altruism. So what if she was not pretty? Good-looking women only made him feel humble and submissive. Only the unwanted and rejected were capable of igniting in him that spark of generosity that always fueled his desire. But what if she wasn't protected? What if she got pregnant here, of all places, in this abortion inferno? Instead of love he offered her an orange, though he omitted to check first that there was another one left in the drawer under his counter. He startled her by adding that her light-blue skirt flattered her figure and she should wear it more often. And he thought her hair was lovely.
Tamar said:
"Stop it, Fima. It's not funny."
Fima said:
"I suppose it's like a fish: it's only when it's lifted out of the water for the first time that it realizes it needs to be in the water to live. Never mind. I just want to tell you I wasn't joking. I meant exactly what I said about the light blue and your hair."