I went and fetched my own key and tried to fit it in the lock, then I saw a key in the lock on the other side.
“Mommy?” I shouted. “Mommy?”
But there was no answer, not even a whisper, and suddenly, what a fool I am, I was sure something had happened to her, she’d been murdered, I don’t know why the idea of murder suddenly came into my head, perhaps it was all the movies I’d seen in the vacation, I couldn’t think of anything less than murder, and I started to wail, thumping the door fiercely — “Mommy! Mommy!”
And suddenly I heard her voice, clear and soft, not the voice of somebody who’s just woken up.
“Yes Dafi what is it?”
“Mommy? Is that you? What’s happened?”
“Nothing, I’m working.”
“Then open the door.”
“In a moment, I’m just finishing something, don’t bother me now.”
I still suspected nothing, I was so confused, all hot from the sun. I went to the kitchen for a drink of cold water, came back to the living room, waiting, I don’t know what for. After a few minutes the door opened, and Mommy came out, closing the door behind her, she was barefoot, wearing a thin dressing gown, her hair in a bit of a mess, she came and sat down beside me, there was something odd about her but I couldn’t think what, she was all attention.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just didn’t know if you were in the house …”
“Have you been down at the beach?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you come back so early?”
“I just got tired of it, I suddenly got bored with the sea.”
“Perhaps you should go and rest for a while, the vacation will be over soon and you haven’t had any rest at all, you’ve been rushing about everywhere … Are you going to the movies again today?”
“Maybe.”
“Come on then” — and she lifted me up — “go and rest, you look really worn out.”
She was gentle, inscrutable, her eyes darting about anxiously, and I still didn’t understand, I let her lead me to my room, watched her as she tidied up the bed that was still in a mess from the night before, straightening the sheets and the pillows, helping me to unfasten the buckle of my swimsuit, stripping me naked, gently brushing the sand from my shoulders.
“Should I take a shower?”
“Take a shower later … you’ll be all right … you’re really burning.”
And I didn’t understand, hell, I didn’t understand anything, letting her put me to bed, covering me up, pulling down the blinds, making the room dark for me, her movements brisk and agile.
She smiled at me, closing the door behind her, and I lay there under the blankets, at midday, shutting my eyes, as if really trying to sleep, as if she’d hypnotized me, and suddenly I jumped out of bed, put on my clothes in a hurry, and barefoot, without a sound, I went to the study, stood by the closed door. It was quiet in there, just the faint rustle of papers. Then I heard her say in a low voice, “I’ve put her to bed” — a soft chuckle — “she doesn’t suspect anything.” I shuddered, I thought I was going to faint, and just as I was I fled, going out again into the sunlight, running to Osnat’s house, I had to talk to somebody, but there was nobody at her house, I ran to Tali’s house, perhaps she’d come back. Her mom opened the door, in her dirty stained dressing gown, a cigarette in the corner of her mouth, a big knife in her hand.
“Tali’s not at home,” she said and she was about to close the door but I clutched the handle, pleading with her.
“Can I wait for her here?”
She looked at me with surprise, but she let me come in, I went to Tali’s room to wait there, but I was in such a state of nerves, pacing about the room, stumbling against the walls, in the end I went into the kitchen. Tali’s mom was busy cooking, all the burners of the stove were alight, she was slicing onions, meat, vegetables — great confusion.
“Could I sit here for a while … just to watch …” I asked, my voice shaking.
She was surprised, but she found a little stool and put it in the corner, I sat there huddled up, watching her, a big woman, sure in her movements, banging the saucepans about angrily, impatiently, impulsively, rushing about the kitchen with a wet cigarette in her mouth, among the piles of vegetables and headless fish streaming blood, the smell and the smoke made my head spin. Tears rose to my eyes, I started to cry a bit. If she’d asked me about Mommy and Daddy I’d have told her everything, but she said nothing. Finally she went out and changed her dressing gown for a broad embroidered skirt with a little white apron, hastily she set the table, looking at me again, a huge woman, her hair combed, a strange, beautiful goy, the knife still in her hand. She touched me gently, raised my head.
“What is it, Dafi?”
My eyes full of tears, I started to tell her but there was a ring at the door and people were arriving, local tradesmen, a tailor, a grocer, I didn’t know she was having a lunch party. Conversations began in Hungarian, in Polish, there was laughter. She sat them around the table, scolding them, ran out to bring in the first course, some of them followed her into the kitchen, full of high spirits, sniffing at the saucepans, winking at me. Some of them I knew and I never realized they could be so friendly and cheerful. Tali’s mom gave me a plate of meat and potatoes, and I sat there on the stool in the corner, the plate in my lap, my eyes dry now, eating among the crowd, the stampede, the clatter of knives and forks, leaving the empty plate in the sink and slipping away, without saying a word.
In the street I met Tali, walking slowly, she passed me by without seeing me, I went on home. There was nobody there, the study was empty, they’d gone. In the afternoon I went to the movies, and then home in the evening, Mommy and Daddy were there but Mommy didn’t look at me, nor I at her, instead a conversation about technical matters, you’d think we were in the garage. I take a shower, watch TV, go to bed with a book, the letters start to go dim, I doze off, and suddenly, with a shock, as if someone’s shaking me from inside, I wake up. I go on reading, taking nothing in. Daddy’s already asleep, Mommy’s pacing around the house, she stops at my door, not looking at me. “Shall I put the light out?” I nod my head. She puts it out. I close my eyes, sure that I’ll sleep but I don’t sleep. I get up, start to roam around the house, going from room to room, drinking water. The magic of a night at the end of the summer. The dark sea far away. Two more days and it’ll be back to school and for the first time I have no desire to study, nor any desire for the vacation to go on, I have no desire for anything. I go back to bed, try to sleep, get up again, the tension’s like electricity in my veins. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. I call softly to Daddy and Mommy but they don’t wake up. I go to the bathroom, wondering if I should take another shower. I sit on the edge of the bath, exhausted, I’ve never felt so lonely in my life. Through the window I see in the distance, on the slope across the wadi, an open lighted window. For years now they’ve been building a house there, and now at last the occupants have moved in. A man sitting in a room almost bare of furniture, in a T-shirt, his hair tousled, a pipe in his mouth, typing feverishly, every now and then he stands up, paces about the room and sits down again, attacking the typewriter with deep concentration. I watch him for a long time. I somehow feel relieved by watching him. I’m not as alone as I thought.