“Now,” he said. “Don’t wait, do it now. Everything came out beautifully, it’ll be just perfect.”
“No, not today,” I said. “Tomorrow.”
He kissed my hand; I could feel his lips trembling. “You were wonderful, magnificent! But don’t wait, do it now. Tomorrow won’t be the same.”
“Okay.”
We went into the room. Robert took out the pistol from our suitcase and started loading it. His hands were shaking. I walked up to the window and gazed at the sea. Robert kept talking, but I wasn’t listening. I was watching our dog run around on the beach; some kids were chasing it, and it was barking loudly.
“Ready,” Robert announced.
I turned around and took the pistol from him.
“Just don’t hit me too hard,” he said.
“Did I ever hit you too hard?”
“No. You were fantastic, fantastic. Let’s go.”
“I want to look at the sea again.”
“There’s no time.”
We started going down the stairs. At the bottom landing I broke into a run; Robert followed me with great strides.
“It’s madness!” he screamed. “Stop him!”
I was supposed to hit him, but I only pushed him away. I crossed the dining room and ran out to the beach. There was a strong wind blowing, so the beach was practically deserted. I whistled, and Spot began running toward me in huge leaps; I pulled the trigger, firing several times in rapid succession, but I didn’t manage to empty the gun. The dog lay sprawled at my feet. It must have been dead after the second or third shot. I threw the gun next to the body and went back to my room.
Three vials of Nembutal were waiting for me on the table. I took the glass of water Robert had prepared for me and started swallowing the pills. Robert was scribbling something; drops of perspiration fell onto the sheet of paper.
“What are you writing?” I asked.
“‘Pray for my soul,’” he said.
“Better write: ‘Forgive me my sins and pray for my miserable soul.’ And maybe add: ‘None of you ever truly liked me, nor did I ever truly like any of you.’”
“No. Only this: ‘Pray for my soul.’ It’s more forceful.”
I stretched out on the bed and said, “Leave me now.”
“Do you feel anything?”
“Not yet. But I will soon. Go away.”
He stood hesitating.
“Go away,” I said again.
“Okay. So long, son. In two days’ time it’ll be all over. Don’t worry.”
He left. I knew I would feel a rocking for a while, and I did. I was being carried by some dark and gentle wave, but I didn’t fall asleep yet. I knew the next moment would be the worst; I always dreaded it.
I was no longer in a cheap and ugly hotel room. I was no longer carried by a gentle wave. I was walking along a country road and I could see in the distance, in the middle of an empty field, a girl with her back to me; I could see her long hair, her beautiful slender legs and her tanned shoulders. She was bending over something hidden from my sight, which I knew I would never see. Then I suddenly found myself back in my bed in the tastelessly decorated hotel room, but in the next moment I was looking at the girl’s graceful figure again. I knew I would see her face now.
“Don’t be shy,” I said aloud. “I’m coming to you.”
She turned to me, and I saw her face, old and ugly, then she smiled, exposing her rotten teeth. I could even smell her awful, stinking breath. I knew I was already on the other side of the hill.
9
ON THE THIRD DAY IT WAS ALL OVER. I WAS LYING ON THE terrace of a small, elegant hotel, pretending to be asleep. It was very quiet because everybody was resting after dinner, so I had no trouble hearing what Robert was telling her. I knew his text almost by rote, but I enjoyed listening to him all the same.
“At least he’ll have enough sleep,” Robert said. “He often suffers from insomnia.”
“What do you think? Should I leave now?” she asked. “I’m afraid he may feel embarrassed when he wakes up.”
“He should,” Robert said, and I knew there was a stern look on his face, just as if he were playing the part of an Indian chief sending somebody to his death. “It’s no joke. Whatever one does, one has to try to do it right.”
“Don’t be so cruel.”
“Poor, stupid loser. He even failed to take his own life.”
“He would have died if you hadn’t gone back to the room,” she said.
“Yes, that was sheer luck. I’d forgotten to take my passport and I needed it the next day. I didn’t want to wake the two of you in the morning.”
They both fell silent for a moment.
“That poor dog was all he had,” Robert said. “I don’t know why he shot it. Maybe he had to get his anger out after your husband hit him. So he shot the dog.”
“He shouldn’t have done it.”
“Thank God he did!”
“Why?”
“Because he fired all the bullets he had, so he couldn’t shoot himself. All that remained were those stupid sleeping pills.”
“To kill himself because of that worthless drunk!”
“No. It was because your son was present. The kid saved his father. Jacob didn’t want to hit him because of the kid.”
“I know. Someday Johnny’ll understand.”
“Write to him,” Robert said. “He’ll be happy to hear from you.”
“Write?”
“Yes. Send the letter to me and I’ll forward it to him.”
“But he’s coming with me!”
“I’m afraid you don’t know him,” Robert said.
“Listen, there’s something wrong here. Something I don’t understand. Why does he have to go to Australia to work? Why can’t he come to America with me and try to find a job there? I don’t get it, Bobby.”
“It’s simple. He’s scared.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you.”
“Bobby, you’re the only friend he has. If you won’t help me, who will? Bobby, please!”
“His isn’t a romantic story, it’s a sad one,” Robert said. “Have you seen the picture of an old lady in his room?”
“You mean his mother?”
“Yes,” Robert said, and I remembered the snapshot of the bouncer’s mom. “She was very ill and he had to go into debt to send her money for the hospital and the operation. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much good. She died.”
“Oh, the poor man,” she whispered, and the image of my real mother, who is in perfect health and swills vodka like a hussar flashed through my mind.
“He can’t leave Israel without his passport, and it’s held by the lawyer representing the people he borrowed money from. When he told the lawyer he found employment in Australia and showed him his contract, the lawyer agreed to return the passport. But the arrangement is that Jacob’s Australian employer will regularly deduct part of his pay and send it directly to the creditors. Do you see it all now?”
“Why can’t he send them money from the States?”
“Because he’s a Pole, dear,” Robert said, “and he’d have to wait six to eight years for an immigration visa. He can go to the States as a tourist only. And to go as a tourist you need money.”
“How much does he owe those people?”
“Two thousand three hundred eighty dollars.”
“Do you mean to tell me he wanted to kill himself for two thousand dollars?”
“I didn’t say that was the reason. I can only guess what went on in his mind. He finally managed to find a job and then he met you. He didn’t want to go to Australia anymore, only to the States with you. But that goddamn lawyer wouldn’t let him have his passport. Next your husband showed up and hit him in the face, and he couldn’t hit him back because of your kid. So he shot the dog and his mind went crazy. I don’t know what really happened. You’re the one who should know.” His voice was stern and hard.