NA’IM
And since then I had my eye on him all the time. Even without looking I could tell when he was in the garage and when he wasn’t. Like a dog almost I could sniff him out. I could tell the sound of his American car apart from all the other cars. Even though now I spent most of the time on the floor under a car tightening the brake cables and I saw the world mostly between the legs moving about beside my head. I carried the key to his house around with me all the time, passing it from pocket to pocket, at night putting it under the pillow. I was very aware of this key, it was like carrying a gun without a licence. I watched him a long way off standing in a crowd of people and I was underneath a car thinking about his house, the dark rooms and the blue sea through the big window. The clean and tidy kitchen and the chocolate in the fridge, the door opening suddenly and the pretty girl coming in from the sunlight, throwing down her school bag and smiling at me.
I smile back, to myself, feeling the key in my shirt pocket. Whenever I want I can get in there again, I go there in the mornings for reasons of my own, quietly opening the door and wandering about the rooms, eating chocolate or taking something as a souvenir, money even, and if she comes back from school and opens the door again she’ll stand there and stare at me and I’ll say quietly, “Your father sent me to take you to the garage, he needs you.” And she’s surprised at first. “To the garage? What’s up? Maybe I ought to phone him first.” “No,” I’ll say, “the phone there’s out of order, that’s why he sent me here.” And then she’ll obey me and follow me going down the stairs with me and I lead her to the bus station, pay for her ticket, sit her down beside me and proud and serious I talk to her, asking her what she’s studying in school, and she’s impressed seeing I’m not just a thick labourer but a guy with a bit of education, I can even recite her a whole poem by heart. She takes a real fancy to me. And then we get off the bus and walk side by side through the street to the garage. Going in through the gate and straight to her father, who’s standing there with a bunch of people, he’s surprised to see me bringing him his daughter in the middle of the day. And before he has time to think I take out the duplicate key and give it to him, saying softly, “You see I could’ve raped her but I took pity on you.” And before he can catch me I flee the garage forever, leaving the city and going back to the village, become a shepherd, let them send the cops after me, we’ll show them.
And I’ll weep in front of Father and say, “I can’t stand it any more. Send me back to school or I’ll bring you even greater shame.”
I was so busy dreaming that instead of sealing the brake cable I let go of it and it flew out of my hand, springing back and cutting my face and hand open. I felt a burning pain and blood started to flow. Slowly I dragged myself out from under the car and the fat Jew who owned the car and was standing there waiting for me to finish the job got quite a shock seeing me crawling out all black with oil and grease and my face covered in blood.
Seems like I was pretty well cut and the blood was pouring all over the place. Adam was talking to somebody but he stopped and came running to me in such a panic you’d think he’d never seen anyone bleeding before. He took me into the office, sat me down on the chair and shouted at the old man to bandage me. I didn’t know the old man was the garage medic as well. He opened a little first-aid box and took out all kinds of dirty little bottles and started pouring stinging stuff all over my cuts. He took out absorbent cotton and bandages as well and started to bandage me with his hard dry fingers. It hurt like hell. And Adam didn’t move from there. His face was pale. They finished patching me up and left me to rest for a while in the office, but the bandages began to go red and blood was dripping on the bills on the table. And then they decided maybe they’d better take me to the Red Cross after all. A car that was just going out on a test drive was called in to take me there. And Adam led me to the car himself. And again he took out that famous wallet of his, stuffed full of notes, and gave me twenty pounds so I could come back by taxi. The man’s just loaded with money. They took me to the Red Cross and sent me in to the nurse. And she unwrapped the bandages lightly and laughed. “Who put these bandages on you?” and then she started to clean the cuts and put on ointments and all kinds of stuff that didn’t sting at all. And they gave me an injection too and put my arm in a sling. They weren’t at all stingy with their materials. Then they sent me away.
It was eleven o’clock in the morning. And I was alone in the big city wandering about with twenty pounds in my pocket. I didn’t feel like going back to the garage right away. I wouldn’t be able to work anyway. So I looked around the shops a bit, bought some chocolate. Then I got on a bus heading for Carmel, not knowing why, maybe I wanted to look at the sea again. But of course I went to his house, maybe I wanted to check if he was still living there. I went in and up the stairs, just to look at the door and then go away. In the end I knocked on the door softly and rang the bell too, though I knew there wasn’t anybody there. Silence. I took the key out of my shoe and put it in the lock. The door creaked a bit but it opened smoothly. And there I was in the apartment again, like in my dream, trembling a bit, suddenly seeing myself in the mirror beside the door, covered in bandages, bloodstains on my face and shirt like some war hero in the movies.
This time it might be dangerous but I couldn’t stop myself. The apartment was still dark and tidy, like it hadn’t been used in the weeks since I’d been there. I didn’t go into the living room but headed straight to the bedrooms to see the places I hadn’t seen before. First his and his wife’s room, very tidy. Again I saw that picture of the little boy. Their son? No sign of him anywhere, maybe he’s dead or he disappeared. I left the room in a hurry, meaning to go away, but I couldn’t stop myself and I went into the other room. I knew right away it was the girl’s bedroom. No doubt about it. I really trembled, I was that curious. Because this was the only room that wasn’t tidy, like it didn’t belong with the other rooms. A room full of light, blinds open and all kinds of posters on the walls. Lots of bright colours. And books and papers scattered around on the table. And the bed, the bed all messed up, a pillow here and a pillow there and some thin pyjamas lying there in the middle. I felt all weak and I sat down on the bed for a moment, lying back and leaning my head on the dip in the middle, kissing the sheet.
I must be crazy.
It’s like I’m really in love with her –
God, got to get out of here before they really call the cops. But I’m not going till I’ve taken something. A book maybe. Nobody ever reckons on thieves if a book is missing. I started looking through her books. I opened one — Bialik. Bialik again, the same textbook we had in school. I opened another book — arithmetic. The next one was by some guy called Nathan Alterman. Never heard of him, let’s give him a try. I put the book inside the big sling on my arm and left the apartment in a hurry, feeling faint and very weak. The key was still in the lock on the outside. I’d make a lousy burglar. Quietly I started down the stairs but on the first floor a door opened and an old woman with a face like a witch was standing there like she was waiting for me.
“Who are you looking for, boy?”
“Er … the Alterman family …”
“Alterman? There’s no Alterman here … who sent you here?”
I didn’t say anything. She stood in my way, if I pushed past her she’d scream. I know these witches. We’ve got a few in the village.
“Who sent you, boy?”
I still didn’t say anything. I had no idea what to say.