And now. What’s going to happen now.
Must wait.
And be careful, wary. I’m not sure of what, but I must be careful. She might suddenly take fright.
And vanish again.
And what does she want. What does she really want?
I think she doesn’t really know.
And you, Yaron. What do you want?
5. Aya
“You’re so restless, so aroused… I’ve never seen you like this before,” Uri whispered to me last night. That’s right, my Uri, that’s right, it’s so good, everything is so good, you and me, my whole body tingling, aroused, feeling my heart trembling, feeling it beating. Such excitement, I’ll never want to calm down, never want it to cease, just let it go on forever, how can I ever live without this excitement spinning in each and every cell of my body. People plod on their entire lives in utter greyness, they haven’t the faintest idea, I can’t imagine living without this thing that suddenly landed on me. It’s two weeks since I saw Yaron, two weeks and I’m all body, yearning for Uri. There in Caesarea, the incredible elation when we met each other, I was sent spinning through the vortex of time like a girl of twenty, so excited, touching the sky. My pulse racing haywire, each limb suddenly throbbing with a pulse of its own, the pores of my skin gaping open, following his car in my mirror as it shrunk in the distance, then disappeared round the corner, stop, don’t breathe, savour the moment. The key turns, the engine starts, all of a sudden I’m home, don’t remember driving, or parking, falling into Uri’s expectant arms, “I saw him,” I must have said. It was an unforgettable night. And that night was not forgotten, the same the next day. And the next. My whole being is twenty, all blooming, that’s what I was in Yaron’s eyes, seeing me now. Did he like what he saw, it seems he did, maybe just a bit, borne aloft on happiness, happiness and delirium, I can’t seem to find myself, how could it be, where will it lead, why should it lead anywhere. Let it be, just let everything remain as is, let Yaron stay, let nothing shift.
***
It’s already six. The day is just slipping through my fingers, can’t seem to work. I haven’t spoken to the kids. I wanted to tell Iddo to make sure Liora sits down and studies, no television today, she has an exam tomorrow, there’s no point in telling them now. Uri tried to reach me a while ago, I told him let’s speak later, how could it have slipped my mind to ask him how the meeting with the foreign donors went – they so urgently need to raise some funds for their youth centre. And what about Shirli, two years in rehabilitation, completely clean by now, we were sure that it would be plain sailing. Yesterday Uri goes into her room, he sees a needle glinting under her bed. “It’s not mine,” she pleads with him, she has no idea how it got there. I still have another meeting today, we’re presenting the balance sheets for the branches. I have to do Europe and Eastern Asia, Latin America’s gone to Yair, Edward gave it to him. I just can’t seem to settle down to it, the figures keep moving, I don’t have an ounce of energy, how can I deal with these balance sheets? Everything is such a mess, it’s already my sixth draft, crossing out, correcting, revising. And why haven’t I heard from Yaron the whole day.
“I’m sorry, Yair. I wasn’t with you just now. What were you saying?”
“You wanted us to go over the calculations of the interest rates together, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, well, it’s not really working. Let’s set a time for tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I can’t talk to you. It’s not your day.”
“Sorry.”
“Yesterday wasn’t really your day either.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Do me a favour; I can’t cope with riddles right now.”
“You not only showed up late to the management meeting but you hadn’t even read the material. You were lucky Edward didn’t notice. Lately he’s been outdoing himself on the decibel scale.”
“I can’t stand the way he shouts. Can’t take it anymore. When he starts screaming it’s like a stream of lava, there’s no way of shutting him up.”
“I’ve heard it said that the sales department decided to stop scheduling meetings with clients here. They sent out an email that there should be no meetings with clients in the conference room on Floor 23. The whole floor’s heard him once too often.”
“Is that so? But as long as it’s not within earshot of clients that’s all right, isn’t it? He can shout at us as much as he likes.”
“Fine. Drop it. I just hope you’ve got those balance sheets ready for today’s meeting.”
“Not yet.”
“You’ve always had them ready a couple of days in advance.”
“I plan to work on them right now.”
“Get a move on, Aya. You won’t make it. And do yourself a favour – make sure you’re on time for the meeting today.”
“OK. Just close the door behind you.”
Don’t even glance at your emails; just concentrate on the documents for the balance sheets. That’s it, you are not going to do a single thing apart from that.
Hang on a sec, it’ll only take me a moment to check, that’s all.
18:07
No new emails
18:11
You checked a moment ago, what’s up with you?
Just a moment, it takes exactly a second to check.
No new emails
18:14
No new emails
Well, it looks like he has nothing more to say to you. Draw your own conclusions.
You met up, you saw one another, you caught up. And since then you’ve been lobbing some emails back and forth. Don’t overdo it, he’ll get fed up with you in the end.
18:17
One last time and that’s it.
***
?
Sender: Yaron Gal
My finger trembles a little, the screen fills up with Yaron:
Hi Aya, how are things today?
I wanted to write to you this morning – just to pick up what we were talking about yesterday. But I didn’t get round to it.
It’s quite hot here today, what’s it like over there?
He’s answering me about yesterday. I haven’t the faintest what we talked about yesterday. I thought he wouldn’t answer me. He did. He must know that I check my emails all the time. Nice of him not to keep me waiting.
I shouldn’t let him wait either.
I need to answer right now, that’s all; then I’ll go straight to the balance sheets. I have another six of them, and the meeting starts at 19:00.
Leave those emails right now and start working. If you don’t sit down and get those balance reports ready, and if they aren’t up to scratch then Edward’s going to blow his top and there’ll be hell to pay all over again.
There could be all hell to pay anyway. Even if your reports are impeccable.
Yes, it’s also really hot over here too.
Come on, something a little more normal.
Yes, it’s also really hot over here, almost time for summer clothes.
Better not to start with clothes. Doesn’t sound good. A straightforward email, nice, nothing fancy. Just so he’ll see that you haven’t disappeared on him.
Yes, it’s warming up here too. I have tons of work today and my boss is insufferable.
If you have tons of work why would you be piddling about with emails?
Find something else to write.
No, can’t say it’s that hot here yet.
Really, what do you think he’ll do with a response like that?
Well… what’s up with you, why are you making such heavy going of it. Just write something simple, a bit witty, and that’s it.
The door opens a bit, the crack fills up with Yair.
“Aya, are you coming? It’s ten to seven, he’s in a foul mood today. We just heard him all over the floor. Hope you’re ready.”
So, write something and that’s it, you can�
��t let him wait.
I didn’t get round to answering you, rushing to a meeting. Will write later.
Send
Get organized, gather the papers, close the email. A quick check that everything’s all right, that the email went out.
Just a minute, a new email.
The mouse clicks all by itself, a message opens on the screen—
Don’t worry, I’m waiting. You taught me about waiting long ago. What’s the meeting about?
The Middle of March
Uri says that ‘crisis’ is too mild a word for what’s happening to us. Whatever makes you say ‘crisis’, don’t say that, Uri, please don’t say it. It just can’t apply to us, not even in passing, I’m not going to let that word loom over our lives. And what’s going on suddenly, in these new days, five weeks now since I called Yaron, and saw him, that one single meeting, but nothing’s the same. The time crawling between one email and the next, between a snatched talk and an SMS; cancelling meetings with feeble excuses to gain a few moments to talk with Yaron. “What meetings do you have today?... I never thought you’d want to mess with interest rates and balance sheets, money never meant much to you… Yes, true, numbers and calculations did, you always loved them… it’s Purim[4] tomorrow, what are your kids going to dress up as?… It’s so strange that you’re a mother, just can’t imagine it, and your Iddo will be called up soon, you’ll be sending parcels to the army, have you thought of that?… Do you still make those chocolate biscuits that you used to make? You used to send me biscuits when I was in the army, don’t you remember? … No, I’m sorry, we can’t talk tonight, Hagar reminded me that we have a parents’ meeting at school.” What is it about these stolen moments, the idle chit-chat – why can’t I just let it go? I’m so restless, all the usual things seem insipid, it’s only in the evenings that I’m able to calm down, only with Uri. Since the day that I met up with Yaron my whole being has been tuned into Uri, “Even when we were twenty it wasn’t like this,” Uri whispered to me yesterday, and the previous day, and the night before, it’s true, Uri, it’s true, so how can you even think about a crisis. “You’re like this because of him,” said Uri, a catch in his voice. Well, maybe, just maybe, but these emails, and the text messages – there’s nothing to them, nothing, so what’s the problem?
Three days ago, on the way home from work, a snatched exchange with Yaron, just to say hello, how could I have said those words? “Yaron, I don’t understand what’s happening, suddenly it’s like something has come to life, I can’t understand it, and work’s become so boring, I don’t have the energy for a single thing.”
“If we go on being in touch, you’ll be taking a huge risk,” he replied.
“There’s no danger for me, maybe there is for you,” I retorted, convinced of every word.
“Well, in that case, I should be the one to decide if we go on being in touch.”
“Fair enough,” I replied.
“OK, so bye then.”
“Bye, Yaron.”
What could I have said?
Arriving home, all my energy drained. What’s going to happen? Will another twenty-eight years pass before I see him again? I held out for three days, barely. Till midday today, driving with my Liora to spend a weekend together, just the two of us, I’d promised her ages ago. And on the way, this unbearable anxiety, I’m about to wreck the whole weekend with Liora, ruin it with my own hands, if I don’t speak with him I’ll have no peace. In the end, couldn’t help myself, no shortage of reasons, I might as well just call, I have to speak to him, have to, so I can really be with her. Getting out of the car, dialling; just to make sure that he’s still there.
“Mum,” my Liora pleaded from the backseat, almost in tears, “we’re going for a weekend together, you promised me ages ago, why do you have to make a phone call now?” “I’m sorry, my sweet, I have to make this call, it’ll be real short, back in a minute.” “What’s up?” asked Liora, maybe she saw my face burning, “And why is it so urgent?” I could hear her grumble, “You never work on Fridays.” “I’ll be right back,” I said again and drew up at a bus-stop, careful to close the door from outside, and to make sure that the windows were closed, and even walk a few steps off for good measure. Dialling quickly, now’s the time, it’s already Friday noon, I know that he’s alone now, later will be too late, just answer, pick up, just pick up, now.
What a relief to hear his voice, so casual, telling me all these everyday details, how he went here, went there, came back. I couldn’t really listen, it wasn’t what was important, sitting at the empty bus stop, Liora waiting for me in the car.
“Yes,” he reassured me, after I asked, I couldn’t hold myself back from asking. “Yes, Aya. I’m happy that you called.”
“Mummy, why did you walk away?” she asked when I came back after a couple of minutes. Glancing back at her in the mirror, huddled into herself, withdrawn. Is the weekend going down the drain, I could see that on her face, why isn’t Mummy with me, why are grownups always hiding stuff?
“Everything’s fine, my love, everything’s fine,” I smiled at her in the mirror.
The Earth is still spinning.
6. Yaron
Aya says that there’s no danger for her. “Yaron, if there’s any danger, then it’s for you,” she declared, so certain, yet no longer the know-it-all she once was. So we agreed that I would call, “If I’m the one taking a risk then I should be the one to decide if we’re going to stay in contact,” I told her. She agreed, and said, ever so quietly, “All right then, Yaron, bye for now.” She didn’t hang up, she must have been waiting for me to hang up. That was Tuesday. It was strange for me, those three days. Not an SMS, not an email from her; I had got used to snatching those moments, and now suddenly – this sort of vacuum. Hard for her as well, I know that it’s hard for her without me. But she won’t admit it, seeing as that Uri of hers is so perfect. And then, around noon on Friday, she suddenly calls. She knows that it’s a time when Hagar is at home and I’m out on errands. Simply asked how things were, I told her a bit but she scarcely listened. What does she really want? I don’t get it, I’m not sure she knows. Let’s be friends, she said, renew the connection. “This break doesn’t make sense, not to this extent, it just doesn’t make sense. Look how time passes,” suddenly she sounded like she did back then, was she sad back then? I don’t remember. All I remember is her smile, her eyes, our hikes, our hugs, how she would press her whole body to me, her whole body tensed against me, I can almost feel her. Always, always the same picture floating up in my memory, for years the same picture, she’s smiling. And her plait, it was from her that I learned how to make a plait, “You divide it into three,” she’d say. I remember her on the kibbutz, in one of those old, worn out rooms allocated to the girl soldiers, her hair wet from the shower, her scent, that scent of hers drove me crazy, a kind of fresh, lemony scent that I can’t forget. Sometimes I run into that smell and my heart just stops, I try to gulp some deep breaths, to take in that scent but I can’t, it goes away too fast. She wouldn’t let me brush her hair, but she’d let me plait it. I remember how her long hair fell down her bare back, she’d straight away wrap herself up in that turquoise towel of hers, “My little bashful one,” I’d tease her. The first time I plaited Michali’s hair was when she was four, her hair was already long enough, I remember Hagar’s face sort of crumbling in front of my eyes, “How come you know how to plait hair, Yaron?” Hagar said, and bit back her words, as if Aya was standing there between us, transparent. Until Michal said, “Go on, Daddy, why did you stop? I like it when you do it.” After that I was careful, I never did it when Hagar was at home, only on Thursdays, when she left early for work and I’d take Michal to her kindergarten and Iddo to school.
Michal, it took me months to get used to her name. I so wanted Maya, “If we have a girl I want us to call her Maya,” I said to Hagar right at the start, when she was pregnant with Iddo, but she didn’t say anything. A few days later she said, “Yaron, I don’t
really like that name.” “Maybe you’ll get used to it,” I told her, “people get used to anything.” She said nothing, so I thought that the subject was closed. Then a few days later she suddenly said, “So maybe we’ll write it ‘Maia’,” and then I understood why she had been against it. And I realized that she’d never agree. Then Iddo was born, and by the time Hagar was pregnant with Michal I thought it would be better to give up, even though I still wanted Maya.
So We Said Goodbye: A Contemporary Fiction Novel Page 3