He doesn’t even know.
And he won’t know either.
We never spoke about it since. Her name hasn’t come up here.
It’s best like that.
13. Aya
“Aya, wake up,” Uri whispered to me in the middle of the night.
“Wake up, Aychuk, something’s bothering you, you were dreaming.” And he tried to wake me, all of me completely drenched with sweat, terrified.
“Yes, just a sec,” I muttered, curling up into him, just to curl up into the warmth of his body, clinging to the shards of the dream.
We’re taking a hike, inside a labyrinth. We walk and walk and don’t get anywhere. Green bushes, dense, green bushes. Uri and I are together, inside the maze, walking, holding hands. Someone tall is walking fast ahead of me, he’s got some papers in his hand, what are all those papers, are they Uri’s building plans? No, they aren’t building plans, it’s a map, a map of paths, I don’t understand who it is, the glimpse of his heel just up ahead, I try to walk faster, to reach him, I can’t, I’m pulling Uri after me, Uri’s in sandals, his sandals are sinking into the earth, hardly moving, and again the map eludes me. I’m trying to run after him, my legs are heavy, not moving, Uri’s pulling me back, I’m trying to get hold of the map, only glimpsing the shoe and the edge of the map in his hand, it’s an old-fashioned lace-up ankle boot, like they used to have, the man and the map disappeared.
“Who was it?”
I didn’t answer.
“Do you know who it was in the dream?”
How could I say his name?
“It was Yaron, wasn’t it?”
“The map, it was in his hand, I stretched out for it, almost touched it, it was so close, such a nightmare. So glad you woke me up,” I said, and then fell back asleep.
But Uri, he got no sleep.
And in the morning, when his back was to me and his face to the wall, and I tried to touch his arm – I heard his words, “All I wanted was a bit of peace and quiet, have him out of our lives till the holidays. And now you’ve begun dreaming about him.”
14. Yaron
I can’t sleep, it’s nearly two a.m. Hagar is sleeping peacefully, she has no idea about anything. I’m dying to shake her – why did you do it? Why, what did she ever do to you? She hasn’t done anything to you. I have to get a grip, try to fall asleep, tomorrow’s Wednesday, endless meetings. I planned in advance to do it on a Tuesday, Tuesdays are easier. I marked the calendar Out of Office so they’d know not to stick in a meeting. I left the office before noon and arrived home, the street’s quiet, only those trophy wives about, tennis, psychologist, manicure. The husbands are out working while their wives fritter away their money, experts at doing nothing but complaining, going to all those awareness and self-fulfillment courses: “How to access the happiness within you.” Lucky that Hagar never got into all that, lucky she’s different. I got home, fortunately that neighbour of ours Saraleh Friedman wasn’t around, I was in no mood for her: “Hi Yaron – you look great today – my, that colour really suits you, looks great on you. Did Hagar pick out that shirt for you? Why are you home so early? I hope there haven’t been any job cuts at your place… Sorry, I didn’t mean that, you know how it is in high-tech these days… Oh, I’m sorry, of course you know, you’re in high-tech yourself. Don’t forget to remind Hagar to come over for a coffee, you won’t forget to tell her, will you?” Immediately I started searching in the attic, moving boxes from one place to another like an idiot, rummaging around, careful not to leave any traces. Dammit, why should I sneak about like a thief when it’s my own home, my own things? Then I went outside to the shed, praying that Saraleh wouldn’t suddenly show up. The time flew by, my clothes got covered in dust, by then I’d almost given up, where the hell did I put that box? I told myself to calm down, think methodically, think systematically, if I had to put that box away safely now, where would I put it? And then it came to me, straight away I ran back up to the bedroom. Once I could take the stairs two at a time without the slightest problem – I must, I simply must get back to the gym, beginning of the next quarter is my deadline. I don’t know how long I stood there on the ladder, in the bedroom like that, holding the empty box. There was nothing left in there, some old pictures of Aya that Hagar must have overlooked, reports from kindergarten. All the letters were gone, all of them. There had been piles of them, hundreds. God. All gone. Frantically rummaging, suddenly, as I was standing there on the ladder, inside an old primary school exercise book my mother kept, I found a small, folded envelope.
My Roni,
You were at the kibbutz for only six hours, and suddenly the skies radiated a different light, the air had this scent to it, a scent impossible to describe, the warmth of your body washed over me, so filled me up that I was unable to be still for a moment. You remember how you asked why I was so delirious? It was because I just couldn’t contain all that happiness, the excitement. And desire too. I didn’t dare to tell you that. But in a letter I can. I buried my head in your chest, nuzzling against the warmth of your skin. And later, do you remember what we did then? Remember how I held your head, as you slowly licked my face, and then my neck, I was trembling so much. You didn’t stop there, my Yaron. Your hair was caressing my neck, and when you lifted your eyes up to me, I was so embarrassed, I remember your face, I remember your smile, a smile of happiness. And that smile, that happiness of yours – came from me. Your smile, your scent, is what I’ll hold on to now, when you’re not here. Do you remember, Yaron, how at the beginning, when we’d only just started seeing one another, you told me how I was your life-force? I didn’t understand what you were saying. Now I understand it, my love. I’m so crazy about your smell, beneath your uniform. And your skin, your body, gently, like you love it. You’re my life-force too. I can’t wait to see you, can you come on Thursday? If you let me know, I might be able to get us a room. And then, then I want you again, Roni. Exactly, exactly like before. My whole body is so longing for you.
Yours forever,
Aya
Heavens, what else was there, what else did Hagar read? When? When did she stumble across it? She must have missed this letter, otherwise it also wouldn’t have been here. Why did she do this to me? I don’t get it, what got into her? Why would she suddenly go through this box, she never touches my stuff and I never touch hers. It took me ages to get her used to the fact that we each have our own private stuff, and that’s how it should be with couples. Until I managed to stem the questions: Where are you going? Who are you meeting? “I’m just showing an interest,” she used to say, immediately insulted, “I only want to know the sort of things you’re going through in your day.” Until I taught her that I’d tell her of my own accord, I’d tell her whatever I wanted to tell her. She also has her own girlfriends and I don’t ask her what they talk about. Even now we have the occasional issue with this, it bothers her that I have my own username and password on the computer. Thank God, thank God I insisted on setting up the configuration for the new computer, what would I have done had she seen Aya’s emails—completely by accident? Not that Aya wrote anything to me, she was so closed, I didn’t manage to get anything out of her, only those questions about me and about my life, though I did try to get something out of her about herself, for her to tell me something about those twenty-eight years that I can’t believe have gone by. There were so many things that I wanted to know, how she is at home, how she is as a mother, I can’t grasp it. We used to dream how it would be in a few more years, “Roni, you’ll be a father and I’ll be a mother, beyond belief, like in the next incarnation, I feel that we ourselves are a little like children.” “It’ll be wonderful,” I’d tell her. She would stop, smile, toy with her braid. It took me years to stop thinking of it. And how is she with Uri, how is it when they’re together, impossible not to think about it. How did she get close to him? Become friends? Who started with whom? I tried to get her to say how it was, when it started. “It started after we parted,” she said. “A
re you sure?” I asked. “He was on the kibbutz the whole time, even when we were together,” I added. “Yes, I’m positive, it was only after we separated,” she replied, but wouldn’t say any more than that. Can’t bear it that the letters are gone, such a shame, I never touched them all these years but now I’d like to dip into them. All through the army, for three years, I would write letters and post them, and then wait for hers, wait so I could relive everything again. Sometimes she’d blush, so bashful, “My bashful little one,” I’d call her, but she did know how to write. This whole thing suddenly throws you back, my whole body feels twenty again, and in my stomach, there’s real pain, a kind of shuddering that I’ve forgotten can exist. When did Hagar discover the letters? Was it a while ago, could it have been when we moved into this house, or was it just now, could it have been now when I told her about Aya? God, I’ll never be able to know, and why, why did she do it? How much did she read, what does she know? I’ll never be able to ask. How could I tell her that I know that she’s tossed them out, or ask her what she’s read – and when – straight away she’d want to know why I was even looking for them. How come you’re interested in her, why were you looking for them? You told me that you were no longer in touch with her. I’m really not, I’ll tell her, but it won’t help, I could tell her till I’m blue in the face, but it won’t help, there could be a stupendous quarrel over nothing. And Aya, if we do speak again, what am I going to tell her? She’ll ask for her letters again, what will I tell her, that I have no idea where her letters are, that I lost them, that I didn’t look after them, that Hagar tossed them out?
15. Aya
Emails
Who invented them? They get to rule your life. Like moles burrowing into your time. “He thinks he needs to send something out every minute so we won’t forget for an instant that he exists,” Yair once remarked about Edward.
And this email, this particular email. I’d give anything not to have got it. Waiting its turn in my computer like a time-bomb, so innocently. Poised for the click of my finger on the mouse, so it can blow up inside me.
6 August 14:12
Hi Aya,
I hope that you and all your family are well.
That suggestion of friendship. You wanted us to be friends. That would be simplest, you said, no hiding. What’s the problem with it, why not?
I’ve thought about it, Aya. More than just thought about it.
You were always a little naïve. Which might be, among other things, what I loved about you.
I think it would be impossible.
I don’t see how there can be any contact between us.
I hope that things go well for you,
Yaron
***
There can’t be any contact between us.
I hope that things go well for you.
Repulsive. You’re a leper.
That’s what you are, Aya . That’s the word.
And as naïve as a newborn.
What did you expect?
What do you do when you’re stabbed in the back, and you’ve got to hide the knife?
Loving each another at night. Me and Uri. So loving to one another. And then, Uri’s whispered words in my ear, “So good there’s this break.”
The words have just been said, the last syllables tossed into the void of the room, and they immediately create new facts. I have to tell him about the email; not to tell would be lying, that’s how it has always been.
To tell, and stay on top of things. You see, Uri, life goes on, I’m all right.
And Uri, his lips are at the nape of my neck, “Believe me it’s for the best; he has his life, we have ours.”
Great waves of love engulf me, flowing from Uri to me. I embrace him, taking him into me, breathing him in. “I so love our life,” his words whispered into my ear.
What more could anyone want?
If only it were possible to stop here. Just here. Like the sun stood still for Joshua.[5]
Yet the sun does not stand still. Dawn is already breaking.
There can be no contact between us.
I hope that things go well for you.
The words reverberate in my mind.
You’re naïve, Aya, how naïve you are. God.
It’s Hagar.
Of course. It can’t be him who doesn’t want to, it’s her. She must have found out.
Or maybe he told her.
And she doesn’t like it one bit.
And in a flash, any sympathy for Hagar is gone.
I’ll meet with him, of course I will. She can’t dictate that we’ll never see one another again, never again, for the rest of our lives.
A new morality is suddenly born in me.
Just before Rosh Hashana, a New Year
Autumn is in the air. It’s been over a week since I had any peace. I don’t budge from my mobile. Checking that it’s working. That I didn’t put it on silent, that there’s a signal.
It’s almost three o’clock.
Well, she must have kept him busy the whole day, what with last minute shopping, and preparations. Those endless family gatherings. He can’t phone.
But yesterday, and the day before…. The whole week…. People do phone. They wish one another Happy New Year.
“There can be no contact between us.” His words haunt me; all right, Yaron, I remember that you said that, so what, can’t you just wish me Happy New Year? What’s your problem?
“Aya.”
“Aya.”
“What Uri?”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”
“Turn round, Aychuk.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me what’s up, come here,” he’s already turning me round to him, his arms around me, my head on his shoulder. “Something’s bothering you.”
“It’s this New Year thing …”
“What of it?”
“A kind of unquiet, these holidays.”
And after a moment of silence, “Because of Yaron?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You’ve been waiting for him to call you,” half-asking half saying. Nothing escapes him.
“Uri, I can’t go on like this,” my face buried in his neck, embracing all of him.
“What can’t you go on with?”
“Having you know everything. How come you always know everything that’s going through my head? I didn’t even mention Yaron.”
“But you want him to phone.”
“Yes, I do.”
“It’s best this way, believe me.”
“Why.”
“He has his life, his family, we’ve got ours.”
“I hoped that he’d phone, just say hello.”
“He told you it was impossible.”
“So what, just to say Happy New Year.”
“What for?”
“Just… just, it’s impossible like this, this ridiculous separation.” Does he think about me? Does he even remember that I exist?
“And I hoped Yaron wouldn’t call.”
“Did you think about it?”
“A bit.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I tried not to think about him.”
“It doesn’t make any sense, what’s this stupid separation good for?”
“It really does make sense. Believe me, it’s best like this.”
And a few moments later, with his eyes staring up at the ceiling, I heard him say, “I just don’t get what it is that you want from him.”
16. Hagar
Why can’t I just leave those old letters alone, simply put them back in Yaron’s box? I put the box itself back in its place, but those letters and photos of hers – I stuffed the whole lot of them into a green recycling bag and shoved it into the boot of the car. I was going to get rid of them.
I didn’t. I brought the bag back into the house. For now they’re
hidden high up in the laundry room; Yaron would never dream of looking for the letters there.
What pulls me there? Why is it like a drug, why do I need to go on hurting myself, over and over again? Going into the laundry room when no one’s at home, climbing on the stool, taking down the bag, sitting down on the floor, rifling through the letters.
So We Said Goodbye: A Contemporary Fiction Novel Page 7