Chapter Twenty
“Because you have said: ‘We have made a covenant with death, and with the nether-world are we at agreement; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through,
it shall not come unto us; for we have made lies our refuge, and under falsehood have we hid ourselves.”
“Tell me about an interesting relationship you’ve had,” Ro’el said to Tammi, “I mean before Adam, of course.”
She thought for a while as he studied her.
“I once went out with a British guy, a Ph.D. in philosophy, who came here to research Israeli society’s attitude towards the Holocaust survivors.”
“And…?”
“It didn’t work out. He kept asking me when will we return the land we stole from the Arabs.”
“So you broke up with him?”
“Not at all, he broke up with me after I finally answered him one day that we would do that the moment the British Museum returns all the mummies they stole from the Arabs.”
“Okay… and who is Adam? That is, only if you want to share.”
She didn’t seem to mind the question. “We met in the army,” she replied, “he was a Major at the base where I arrived after basic training. When he first introduced himself to me, oozing with charm, I thought to myself that he possessed precisely the two things that I was looking for in a partner: a promising, secure future and a sense of humor that could dissipate all my fears. He was a handsome, intelligent and successful man.”
“So why did you break up?”
“Because at times it just didn’t seem to be enough… and what about you, Ro’el? Why did you and Tamara split up? That is, only if you want to share.”
“She had an affair with a young man she met at work.” Tammi didn’t expect such a direct answer, but she knew she had only herself to blame—she had asked and he had answered.
She listened to his story, surprised, wondering how Ro’el could have fallen in love with someone who could hurt him so deeply.
“You know how it is… Tamara is one of those people who will tell you what you want to hear, just so you’ll like them.
We met when we were at the university. I felt very flattered that such a ‘cool’ girl like her was interested in a boring guy like me. ”
“You were boring?”
“I don’t know if that’s the right word. It seemed to me that I was just another bloke.
I always felt that I belonged to the transparent, silent majority.
In high school, for instance, I was just one of a group of ‘regular’ boys.
You know, the kind of guys who are admitted to a party, but no one actually cares about them; the kind that fantasize to end the night in their car with the prettiest girl in the class, but always end up with their best buddy in an all-night diner; the kind who hold a glass of beer at a party and move their head to the rhythm of the music but don’t really ever dance; the kind that aren’t ‘cool,’ that don’t draw attention, not like the ‘jocks.’”
“And what was it like when you met Tamara?”
“At first, everything was fine and I was in seventh heaven, I was living a dream. After we married, I became a partner in the law firm. I’d leave for work early in the morning and return home late at night. That’s probably when she started the affair.”
“I’m sorry to hear that… I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. Tamara hurt me very much, and it will probably take me some time to work through it and continue on. Meanwhile, the fact that you are listening to my story eases the pain a bit and is making my day much more pleasant.”
“Great. In that case, let’s continue to ease your pain. Where were we?”
“The moment when Melody arrives for dinner.”
***
In the early morning hours, preparations for dinner were well under way.
Chava cleaned all the windows until they sparkled, Yiftach washed the tile floors thoroughly and Max cleared the dry leaves from the yard with a bellows that was mainly effective in producing a disturbing noise.
After Yiftach finished washing the floors throughout the house, he went out to the yard to help his father.
“What time is she arriving?” Max asked his son.
“Seven-thirty.”
“And when do you think she’ll want to eat?”
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”
“Didn’t you ask her?”
“No, people don’t do that anymore. I figure we’ll eat around eight o’clock. You’ll see, everything will be fine.”
“Leave no room for mistakes. This is the first time we’re having company since your mother died. If the two of you are planning to get married, tonight everything must be as precise as a Swiss watch.”
“Dad… who said anything about getting married?”
“No one,” Max said simply.
“Then why did you mention it?”
“Because,” he answered teasingly, “I think that one of us—either you or me—will eventually get married, and it seems to me the chances are greater that it will be you.”
The sun set behind the houses of the village of Udim and its light faded away from the yard of Max’s home. Yiftach pierced half an onion with a long metal fork and began rubbing it on the grid of the grill that was heating up. “What would you like to drink?” he asked Melody.
“What have you got?” she responded with a question.
“Beer, soda, and the wine you’re holding in your hand.”
“Beer!” she immediately answered and placed the wine bottle on the garden table where Max was sitting.
Yiftach placed juicy slices of meat on the grill and entered the house, leaving the back door ajar.
Melody sat down next to Max, who was busy cutting up fresh tomatoes for the salad. “Can I help?” she asked the old man.
“Thank you, my dear, but I’m nearly finished.”
“I want to ask you a rather stupid question.”
“There are no stupid questions, my child. There are only stupid actions that wouldn’t happen if supposedly stupid questions were asked.”
“In that case, how do you feel about the fact that your son has returned to live with you at his, let’s say, not particularly young age?”
He remained focused on cutting the tomatoes. “See how the wheels turn? In the beginning he lived with his parents, and now, towards the end, he’s back again, living here with me.”
“Don’t use the word ‘end.’ It always saddens me.”
“My dear, make no mistake—I am not afraid of death.”
“Your son also said that to me once, but somehow I believe it when you say it.”
“What’s the point of being afraid of what you will never encounter?”
“Do you mean eternal life?”
“No. When death comes—I won’t be here anymore,” he answered with somewhat chilling realism, “but, as long as I’m here—death isn’t. Simply put, Melody—it is either him or me, and never the twain shall meet.”
While in the kitchen, Yiftach observed Melody and his father from the window, and he suddenly realized that her presence in his family setting generated in him a pleasant feeling of security and peace.
The way she smiled at his father and the way she took his hand in hers while talking to him made Yiftach feel as if he had known her for many years.
Apparently, Dad was right, he thought to himself, I am ready to be with other women now.
“By the way,” Melody suddenly recalled and said to Max, “I tried the Buddhist monks’ method that you advised me to adopt.
Well, between us… it didn’t really help.
” He looked at her benevolently. “You know, Max, sometimes I think to myself that I wish I could simply forget all my past sufferings and begin all over again.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you. I believe that we can live well without the pleasures of the past but, as to the suffering we’ve experienced—we will never relinquish them.
” His words sounded perfectly logical, but she couldn’t quite understand why.
“The pain we experienced,” Max continued, “taught us very important lessons, and the adversities we had to contend with drove us to seek remedies. Who would want to give all that up?”
Yiftach returned carrying three chilled beers. He handed one bottle to Melody and one to his father and, while drinking from the third, he focused his attention on the meat on the grill.
“I’ll set the table!” Melody offered, happy she found a way to be useful and help the evening along.
“Good idea,” said the old man, “I just finished the salad, let’s go inside.
” Yiftach glanced at Melody and his father as they walked towards the house and what he saw pleased him very much.
Melody set the table in the small dining area.
She placed a glass next to each dish, then laid out the silverware.
She picked up her beer bottle, just to discover that there were just a few drops left.
After the successful dinner, Yiftach and Melody returned to her place. As soon as they entered the apartment, they quickly shed their clothing and clammy bodies came together as one.
“Let’s do it again!” she said after a brief lull.
“Don’t be impulsive.”
“Don’t be impotent.”
They clung to each other with desperate sensuality.
Melody’s apartment windows were well-hidden from view, which allowed them free rein to give in to their passion, feeling anchored and secure from the cacophony of the lurking outside world.
The glow of Melody’s sweaty body did not diminish her beauty in Yiftach’s eyes, and they made love again and again.
They fell asleep only at three a.m. Yiftach woke up for no apparent reason and had trouble going back to sleep.
He found himself in the most vexing state of wakefulness—too tired to do anything but not tired enough to fall asleep.