A Late Divorce

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A Late Divorce Page 22

by A. B. Yehoshua


  —You’ve forgotten. I’ll take you to see it. Then you’ll understand.

  —Right. That’s just it.

  —Believe me, I’ve been on the verge of tears for days. Even in the bank I feel a lump in my throat as soon as I’m alone in my office.... Whenever I think of it, all the desperation of it, all the joy of it, overwhelm me. That’s why I say I’m such a wreck. The bottom has dropped out of my life. It has no boundaries anymore. You take it all so easily. It’s natural for you but you don’t understand what you’ve done to me. Are you still listening?

  —No. I’m beginning to bore you. Your eyes are closing. I can see how tired you are. I’ll go now. I’m wide awake.

  —No. Never mind. And she has only the desperation, the poor thing. For her this whole business has been ... and I understand her so well ... I keep telling myself that if it were the other way around, I’d go out of my mind. But why did that play affect us like that? Maybe we were ready to be shaken up and it just happened to be Uncle Vanya that did it. Or maybe it was something else. When the lights came on at curtain time I saw that she was really crying. And it went on and on, she got more and more carried away. I couldn’t even bring myself to applaud. We just sat there staring at the floor, waiting for the people around us to get up and leave. And she went right on crying. Are you listening? She cried all the way to the car, and she cried in it too, quietly, as if once she’d started she wasn’t going to stop. There wasn’t a sign of a letup. And I knew that it was because of me, not the play. All because of me. The same woman who’s hardly spoken a word to me since ... What?

  —Since she found out.

  —About us ... that we...

  —What?

  —No.

  —Yes.

  —No.

  —Maybe. But she couldn’t stop crying. She was like in a whirlpool of tears. And I decided not to try to make her. I thought it might be good for her to get out what was choking her inside. She’s usually a very quiet woman. She has this inner pride.

  —It’s easy for you to talk. But to stand there and watch her cry ... and I couldn’t even let myself touch her, she’s been very sensitive to that since she found out. Not even to comfort her. To have to watch her cry like that ... But I didn’t say a thing. I didn’t want to quarrel, even though I knew it was all because of me. I’d sworn to myself never to fight with her—she’s suffering enough as it is. So I brought her home and turned on the TV, I thought it might get the misery out of her system. Right away, though, she walked out of the room. I said I’ll never bring home any more theater tickets, to add one extra drop of sorrow to your life is the last thing I want to do. She didn’t answer. By then she’d stopped crying but she’d stopped talking too. And the girls weren’t there to break the ice between us the way they do when they’re home. She hasn’t said a word about it to them because she doesn’t want them to be revolted by me. Those were her words.

  —Revolted by me ... she thinks I’ll revolt them...

  —What more can I do? I’ve already told her that I’ll never leave her. Do you hear me? I want you to know that too.

  —I’m glad of that.

  —I said, how can I be blamed for what happened to me? It’s my fate. Did I ask for it? If it had been a woman, you couldn’t be more right. You can even tell me that you’d rather it was one. That you’d have wanted it to be.

  —She didn’t say anything. Her father was the son of a famous rabbi in Jerusalem. Her fear goes back to that. But I’ll take the sin on myself, I told her. I’ll pay for it in hell, me and no one else. It’s my responsibility.

  —I know you don’t believe in all that. But I can’t take any chances at my age.

  —Don’t start up with me now, Tsvi. Anything is possible. I’m a wreck. What I wanted to say to her was, a minute with him is worth a thousand years in hell to me, but I didn’t. What I said was, it’s God who’s punishing me. I might have gotten sick. Would you have liked cancer better? It’s a deep thing. It came from way down within me, what could I do about it? So then she said to me in this quiet voice—are you listening?—she said, I wish to God it had been cancer. Did you hear that?

  —Exactly. That’s how desperate she feels.

  —I wish to God it had been cancer. That’s what she said.

  —What?

  —Right. I said to her, you’re talking like a child now. This is something I may get over, but cancer I never would. I may get over it, I said, it can go away just like it came. So she said, are you crazy? It never will go away. All right, I said, suppose that I’m crazy? You can see that I kept my calm. Suppose I’ve gone a little crazy, I said, nowadays even crazy people get some consideration. Give me time. Maybe I’ll get over it. I feel that I will. That’s what I told her, although it isn’t what I feel at all—if anything, it keeps getting stronger. Only that I’m telling you, not her. And then she told me that she’s following us. What do you say about that?

  —Not by herself. She doesn’t have the nerve for that. She hired a detective. Just imagine a shy, refined woman like her walking into a private investigator’s office and hiring a detective to tail us and take pictures. Have you noticed anything?

  —Neither have I. But he followed us all the way to your mother. Just imagine. You didn’t notice anything?

  —You’re laughing. Everything is a joke to you. But I was in shock. Mostly at her. That’s what sheer misery will do to a person. Do you know that he photographed you in the street?

  —What can I do? She’s like a little girl. She tells me she knows everything. And she really does know all sorts of things that even I don’t. About your father and your mother, and the names of your sister and her husband in Haifa, and your brother and his wife and her parents in Jerusalem, and all their addresses and telephone numbers. She sat reading it all out to me from a piece of paper to prove God only knows what. But I kept my temper. I said to her, you see, you know everything. If you had asked me I would have told you myself, because there’s nothing I’m hiding from you. It’s all out in the open. If it were a woman, I said, I might have tried to cheat on you, to do it behind your back. You don’t know what some men are capable of. But since it isn’t, I can be honest. Because it’s not against you, and so it needn’t affect you or the tie between us. I don’t feel that I’m betraying you or what you are to me. It’s not adultery, it’s something else. You see the line I took with her. Very special, very logical, but also very true. What do you think of it?

  —Exactly.

  —Exactly.

  —Right. That’s just what I thought.

  —Yes.

  —And without a fuss. That’s what I said to her. I’m being honest with you, why must you drag us all through the mud with detectives? It’s your good name too. And it’s a shame to waste all that money. Not that it concerns me, but you’d do better to buy yourself some new jewelry or a dress with it, and let me tell you whatever you want to know. Are you listening?

  —No. Never mind. I have to tell you. So she said she wanted to know what you and I did and how we did it. Did you hear me? That’s how desperate she is. I said what do you want to know for, the less you know, the less bad you’ll feel. It’s thinking about it that’s hardest for you ... you see, she thought I put it into you ... but the reality is very human, like most things. Because whenever a person gives anything all his pain and emotion, it becomes very human. Do you get the line I took with her? You’re tired...

  —I’ll be through in a minute.

  —No. In a minute. I have to finish the story. The most famous people, I said to her, all kinds of celebrities, have been through this. I even mentioned a few names I had prepared for her.

  —Do you think I remember? Aristotle, for example.

  —What?

  —Aristotle wasn’t?

  —Socrates? I never heard of him. I’m weak on names. I looked them up in the encyclopedia. I was sure it said Aristotle. Are you certain?

  —Never mind. I just wanted to give her a few examples to ch
eer her up. You don’t understand what this means to her. I might as well be a murderer. Her whole world has caved in. So has mine. But she’s simply being destroyed while with me something new is being born.

  —Fifty? She’ll never see fifty again.

  —No. The rest doesn’t matter. She started to swear at me terribly. That’s something she never dared do before. She’s always been a quiet, refined woman, she’s always borne herself with dignity even though she has no education—her parents never gave her any. She swore a blue streak and started to cry again.

  —I didn’t answer back, of course. She said she’d tell her brothers. She has two of them. One is in some high legal position.

  —The name doesn’t matter.

  —What do you need to know it for?

  —Some other time. You already know too much.

  —No, some other time. Don’t make an issue of it now. Please, do me that favor.

  —I know, but not now.

  —No. Nothing. There’s nothing they can do. But I don’t want them to know, because from them it will get to the whole family, and worst of all, to the girls. We’ll destroy them. Give me time, I said to her, give us both enough time to catch our breaths. Then we’ll see. But you must be exhausted. Get back into bed, I’ll sit by your side.... What?

  —It really interests you?

  —It must seem like a joke to you. What can I do? Have a good laugh at my expense, my dear.

  —No. Go ahead and laugh. Why shouldn’t you. We deserve to be laughed at. We’re another generation, a world you never knew. How old is your father?

  —Going on sixty-five? Well, I’m not far from him then. And where did we ourselves come from? If my own father were alive now, he would want to bury himself. You’ll be the death of us all.

  —No, don’t be angry. I didn’t mean you personally. It’s just that ... even if it’s true that ... that I had it in me all the time ... if I hadn’t met you it would never have gone beyond a vague longing for something that I didn’t even know I was longing for. But that there could be such a passion for ... that there could be this way of doing it too ... that it was even possible and not just something in dirty jokes ... and then all of a sudden ... all of a sudden ... What?

  —No ... all of a sudden ... all of a sudden ... do you hear me?...all of a sudden she wanted me to make love to her, not because she wanted it but to test me ... What?

  —Exactly. A provocation.

  —Exactly. What?

  —No. How could I? You must be joking. I said to her, I promise you tomorrow. I didn’t want to insult her, because it’s a terrible blow to the pride. And I haven’t ... done it with her ... for several months now ... and even then it was torture too. I began to be afraid that I might think that ... even ... oh ... that her breasts ... it really frightened me. So I said, I’ll be glad to tomorrow, but tonight I’m not up to it, the theater and all your crying and our quarreling have just knocked me out. Tomorrow I’ll do my best. I tried to be gentle, because I’m sure she didn’t want to either, I just didn’t want her to feel rejected. And suddenly she believed me and didn’t say another word. I helped her into bed and hugged her. It was like she had used up all her strength and had none left, the way she fell right asleep. And then I looked in her drawer and found a photograph ... one taken by the detective...

  —Just a minute ... Here it is...

  —You didn’t notice anything? What disgusting professions there are in this world!

  —I think it must be Allenby Street. Here’s that store near the branch of Bank Ha-Poalim ... Do you see it?

  —Yes. Absolutely. But whose arm are you holding there? Who is that man? Do I know him?

  —Who?

  —It’s the first I’ve heard of him. Who is he? Look how he’s clinging to you!

  —No. Not especially. It just seems strange to me, to see him holding on to you like that in the middle of the street.

  —No. I mean in the street. It’s just that ... how long have you known him? Does he have a family?

  —No. I meant a wife ... children ... you never mentioned him to me. I was wondering who he was. Do you see much of him? Where does he work?

  —Not especially. But it makes me clutch a bit. I don’t know why. Just some damn silliness. Suddenly to see a new face with you in a picture. I must be awfully on edge.

  —I don’t want anything from you. It’s just that suddenly I ... you know ... I feel jealous ... I just do. Please forgive me, Tsvi ... my dearest ... my love ... I know it’s ridiculous ... but I couldn’t fall asleep ... suddenly I felt afraid of you...

  —No ... yes ... afraid ... don’t laugh...

  —No. But to do nothing but think about you all day long goes against all my beliefs ... and yet I can’t help it ... you have a kind of power ... sometimes it’s diabolic...

  —No ... I beg your pardon ... no ... please try to understand ... I beg your pardon. And then there’s the money that I’m giving you. It frightens me too...

  —I didn’t even mention it until now, did I?

  —No, but did I? Tell me.

  —On the contrary. What frightens me is how much I wanted to let you have it.

  —What kind of a loan? Tsvi, my dear, you know you’ll never return it.

  —No. Deep down I know you won’t.

  —Fine, so you will. It doesn’t matter...

  —You will, never mind ... it’s not that. I’m just asking you to be careful with me. I’ve fallen into such a bottomless pit ... and I don’t know if it isn’t too much for me. This whole country is too much for me. Just don’t destroy me ... No ... Don’t make me want you too much ... it’s too dangerous. Let me go at my own pace. I can’t afford to be enslaved to you. I have a home ... children ... responsibility ... and you’re an old hand at all this...

  —No. Of course it’s not your fault. But I feel you’re an old hand ... you may be young, but you’re very experienced...

  —No. Forgive me ... it’s just that, I’m telling you ... that the boundaries ... and I’m a child next to your experience ... the boundaries are all gone ... it’s like a wall has fallen inside me ... there aren’t any rules anymore. And I’m afraid to ask too much, because the more I’ll know, the more frightened I’ll become. Who would have thought a few months ago that I could be jealous of you? I thought it was just some sexual adventure ... a little bit of action ... but it’s already gone far beyond that. If it hadn’t, everything would be all right now ... but I fell for you ... and now I want you locked up in a room...

  —I swear I don’t know. I’m attracted to your whole family by now. I was very pleased that you took me to see your mother in the hospital. It touched me that you weren’t ashamed to let me see her or the two of you together. Your whole story ... you know, your father intrigues me too ... what’s happening to me? Have I fallen in love with you? Can that be? Tell me, you know better than I do. I know I’m not your first ... maybe you even have a few other Refa’el Calderons in a few other banks ... can that be? You’re killing me. What do you want from me? Is it just the money? Tell me. You can’t just say nothing now. And don’t smile...

  —No. Inside you. I feel that you’re laughing at me all the time there.

  —It’s crazy for me to be talking like this. And it’s almost morning.

  —Right.

  —But how did you spot me? Flow did you know? You only saw me once or twice in the bank, and you already knew that I had it in me. And then when we went out for lunch you put your hand on my pants with such assurance. How did you know? I’ve already asked you that, but you’ve never really given me an answer.

  —No, no, I won’t bring that up again.

  —Yes. I beg your pardon. I’ve gone too far.

  —Fine.

  —All right. All right.

  —I won’t say another word.

  —No.

  —Right.

  —Maybe.

  —No.

  —Yes. You see, what I’ve told you about the bank verges o
n a criminal offense. If they found out about it they’d bust me right away to some small branch—and they’d be right. Bleicher is always warning us about leaks ... what counts most in all these transactions is the element of surprise ... because as soon as the word gets out, you’ve lost your whole edge. That’s why he’s lucky to be surrounded by us Sephardim. He knows we can be trusted to keep our mouths shut.

  —No. No, I’m not prejudiced ... wait a minute ... you misunderstood me...

  —No. He said that himself. That ... that...

  —No. But it’s an attitude. He’s right. If he knew that I had relations with you ... that I could be blackmailed...

  —No, try to understand...

  —No, please try to understand...

  —No. I didn’t mean that. Forgive me.

  —No. Forgive me, my dearest ... my darling...

  —You keep telling me that and I hear every word and I believe you. I want to believe you. But you have to understand. Even if I don’t say anything, I’m watching you just like my wife is.

  —One minute ... one minute ... listen to me, my dear ... it’s not as though you had a real job...

  —No ... one minute ... oh God ... what really is that investment company of yours? It’s nothing. I’ve looked into it...

  —One minute ... I’m begging you to listen to me. I’m falling off my feet. Go ahead and reassure me if you can. Go right ahead...

  —That doesn’t matter. But you have no capital. And who is this Gilat character that you work for? A bank joke. A man who juggles a few stocks here and there to create an optical illusion. Not that I mind, but...

  —Hold on a minute. Listen to me.

  —I know all that. I know. But believe me, I’m a specialist in these things. I know all about them. And I’ve seen more than one of these little investment companies come and go like flies. There’s no future in them.

  —I didn’t say criminal. I said no future, which comes close to criminality. Not that it’s any of my business. It’s just that I keep asking myself ... it worries me sick that maybe you took up with me ... that it’s all ... because otherwise why should you ... with an old, worn-out man like me ... I even have wrinkles...

 

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