by Moshe Sakal
In the meantime, she would have to stall Taher. One Saturday when he walked past her on his way out of the house, his fingers stroked her thigh. Adela froze but did not say a word, only silently led him to the door. At night when she thought about him, she was filled with shame. She was afraid of the day he would ask to the see the diamond again.
Still holding Sabakh, her thoughts wandered to Laila. She was far away. Perhaps fast asleep. Adela took out a portrait of Laila from a drawer and looked at it. Through the cobwebs of sleep, Laila’s face seemed blurry. Adela closed her eyes and the portrait left her heart. The night was long and black. In her dream, Adela went into every hidden corner and shone light into it. When she awoke, she thought about the darkness here and elsewhere. Darkness was darkness.
The wind blew outside and shook the windows. For a moment Adela thought someone was knocking at the door. She grew tense and thought perhaps Taher was trying to get in. She quickly turned off the lamp and sat in the dark. Large raindrops struck the window, and the door rattled against the lock. Adela put the diamond back in the box and locked it in the alcove. She went back to bed and lay down next to Rafael with her hand resting on her sleeping baby’s head.
* * *
In the car on their way to Lebanon, Rafael scanned Adela without saying a word. She turned her head away from him, and the landscape traveled before her eyes. Shaking off her exhaustion, she asked, “Have they arrived yet?”
“Yes, this morning.”
“Is Laila waiting for us?”
“She might have gone for a walk.”
Adela sat quietly. Over and over again she thought back to the many nights since their last meeting. She felt angry at Rafael, at this calmness of his. Perhaps I’ll find myself someone in Lebanon, she thought. The idea comforted her for a moment. She would slip away from them both, from Rafael and Laila, and at least for a while she would not be dependent on them. She would be free. Free of them both. Adela sailed away on her fantasies and found comfort in them. What would he look like, this man she would find? One thing was sure: He would not be Taher. That man belonged to her life in Damascus. He was a fantasy never to be fulfilled. Besides, she was too fearful to be truly attracted to him. No, she would find a new man. He would be younger than Rafael. His skin would be dark and his hair black. His arms would be large, and he would have long fingers. He would have dark lips, almost purple, and black eyes. He wouldn’t be tall, quite short, even, but solid. He would have a deep voice. He would know how to touch her, and they would hardly speak. What would she tell him? She wouldn’t say a word. They would meet once, and when she went back to Rafael she would be carefree and peaceful. It would be her secret.
But the deeper she went in her imaginings, the more Adela withdrew into herself. She remembered Taher, and wondered what Rafael thought. Was there any chance he knew Taher came to their home on Saturdays, when everyone was in synagogue?
“When will we next meet Laila?” she asked.
“But we haven’t seen her today yet. Let’s wait for this meeting and then we’ll see.”
“I don’t know if I’ll even want to see her again.” Her words were measured.
“What do you mean?” Rafael gave her a surprised look, and she thought he narrowed his eyes angrily. She wondered if it was anger or panic.
“I mean…” Adela tried to speak thoughtfully, but exhaustion gripped her and she forced the words out. “I mean…maybe I just don’t want to anymore.”
“Why would you say that now?” Rafael sounded furious.
“Because that’s how I feel.”
“I cannot understand you.” Then he softened his voice, trying to stay calm.
“What is there to understand?” Now it was Adela’s turn to be angry. “She just walks into our room whenever she wants to, she gets to decide when she feels like being close, and a second later she wants to be far away from us! Well, I’m telling you, Rafael, I have my opinions, too.”
“No one said you didn’t, Adela. But you know she comes with her mother, it’s not up to her.”
“Are you trying to tell me how to feel?”
“I’m not telling you how to feel, and it angers me that you would say that. You’re very tired. I suggest we try to calm down before talking any further. When we arrive, we’ll rest.”
“I can’t rest.”
“I know.” He touched her shoulder. “You’ve been through a difficult time.”
“And you?”
“I have, too,” he admitted. “But not exactly for the same reasons.”
“Don’t you wonder what’s going to happen?”
“We have no control over it, Adela.”
“I think we do. We have to make decisions, but I’m tired the whole time. I don’t have the strength for anything. You don’t know that feeling, Rafael. You always know how to do what needs to be done, how to say what needs to be said, and how not to do what should not be done. Sometimes I think you never make mistakes.”
“If only that were true.” He smiled.
“Well, it doesn’t show on you when you’re wrong. You always know what must be done.”
“I certainly have no idea what must be done now.”
“Then I’ll tell you, Rafael. You know as well as I do that we’ll have to leave Damascus soon. You must start thinking about what we can take with us and what we’ll have to leave. Then sell what we must, and talk to whoever must be talked to. I don’t want to be taken by surprise.”
Rafael considered. “I see you’ve already thought of everything.”
“Not everything. For example, I find it very difficult to imagine what it would be like to live near Laila.”
“In Yafa?”
“Not Yafa, Tel Aviv. But that’s very close to Yafa.”
“We don’t know what’s going to happen. Doesn’t it make more sense to move to Beirut? What will we do in Tel Aviv? What language will we speak there? Are you saying we’ll have to learn Hebrew? And where will I work?”
Adela scanned his face without saying a word.
“On the other hand, maybe we really will live near Laila.” His eyes were dreamy now, as he stroked the stubble under his chin.
“I think about that a lot,” Adela said, “and I’m not sure I want it to happen.”
“You’re back to that again?” He leaned back and glared at her with his green eyes.
“I’m saying this because it’s important for me to say, and also so that you’re not surprised later. Don’t think it’s easy for me, but I don’t know if I can take it, living near her.” Adela’s voice cracked and tears came to her eyes. “I’m trying to explain to you that I don’t have the strength. I won’t be able to do it. I’m worried.”
“Listen, Adela.” He took her hand and cupped it in his. “There is a lovely young girl here, a rare pearl, who loves us and whom we love in return. You know that at first I constantly asked myself what people would say…”
“I know.” She looked at him with red eyes.
“But now I don’t care anymore. I don’t think about it. I only think about us — the two of us, and the three of us — and about our happiness. Everything else matters less. But what is most painful to me—”
“Is to lose her?”
“No. What hurts me most is that you are willing to let her lose you. That you think you can be lost just like that, so easily. That you are willing to let her pay that price because of your fears. That’s what pains me most.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and her body shook. “I’m just trying to protect myself.” Her choked-up voice was muffled by her damp hair. “This takes a lot of courage, and sometimes I think I’m not courageous enough. I worry…”
“I know. And that’s why I think we should leave it for now, until we get to Aley and meet Laila. We don’t know what the future will bring, Adela. There’s no point guessing or making plans. Nothing is clear yet, anything could happen. We just have to live our lives and that’s that.”
“It’s not tha
t simple.” She sat up straight. Her face was damp and red.
“I know.”
They traveled on in silence.
* * *
The door to Suad and Laila’s room was shut. Rafael was impatient, but after debating, he decided to go back to his own room. “They must be resting,” he told Adela. They lay down in the bed they had not slept in for months and fell asleep immediately. The curtains were drawn, and the room was thick with an early, unnatural darkness.
There was a knock at the door, then another slightly louder one. Adela woke up with a start, glanced at the curtains, and dropped her head back on the pillow. Rafael also woke and jumped out of bed. He put on his robe and went to open the door.
Laila. He let her in and shut the door behind her. She gave him a short, fervent kiss on the lips, then pulled away. “Where is Adela?”
“She’s in the other room. We just woke up.” After looking at her again, he asked, “Is everything all right?”
She nodded. Rafael led her to the bedroom, where Adela had fallen back asleep.
“She hasn’t slept for weeks,” Rafael said.
“Because of the baby?”
“That, too. She just can’t sleep. She’s troubled by all sorts of ideas. She thinks…” He wondered whether to bring it up now.
“That you should leave Damascus?”
“Perhaps.”
They watched Adela. She must have been sleeping lightly, because she felt their gazes and half opened her eyes.
“Good morning.” Laila smiled softly.
Adela closed her eyes without answering. Laila looked questioningly at Rafael, who raised his eyebrows. Laila sat down on the bed next to Adela. “How are you?” she whispered. Adela seemed to be trying to answer, but no sound came from her lips. With her eyes closed, she reached out and hugged Laila. It was a long, desperate embrace. Laila, still in Adela’s arms, looked at her worriedly. “Are you happy to see me or sad?” she asked.
Adela didn’t answer. Her eyelids trembled, and two large tears rolled down her cheeks. Laila kissed Adela’s face. Rafael sat down beside them. “I suggest we rest together, we’re all too upset now.” He took off his robe and lay down. Adela lay on her back on the other side of the bed.
Laila undressed and without saying a word slipped into the gap between them. She lay her head on Rafael’s chest. She was always amazed to hear his rapid heartbeat, so contrary to his tranquil temperament. Laila took Adela’s hand and placed her fingers on her own lips. She blew softly on Adela’s fingers. Adela was appeased, but a moment later she pulled away, turned her back to Laila, and lay facing the wall beneath the large window.
They finally fell asleep.
In the morning, when Laila opened her eyes, she found Adela sitting by the window staring out at the view. Her face was impassive but peaceful. She turned to look at Laila and came over to her. Was she happy or sad? Perhaps both? She put her face close to Laila’s, looked straight at her, and said, “I’m very closed, Laila. It will take me time to open up. But I love you very much.”
“I do, too,” Laila said with a smile. She kissed her. There was still sleep in her eyes.
Adela left the room, arranging her hair on the way out. A moment later Laila heard water running in the bathroom.
In the late morning, the three emerged from the room and went for a walk. Adela was quiet at first, but after they sat down for a cup of strong coffee, she felt revived. She told stories about Damascus, the bombings, the food shortage, the animals her brothers slaughtered while she insisted on eating only rice and vegetables, and the baby who cried for nights on end. It was a welcome respite to have left the baby in a nanny’s care.
As she sat talking, she looked back and forth from Laila to Rafael. Laila wondered where Adela had left the blue diamond, but she did not want to ask. Adela put her hand out and held Laila’s, and Laila silently leaned her head on Rafael’s shoulder. They sat quietly, retreating into their own thoughts, exhausted from the anticipation. Or perhaps they had nothing to say to each other.
At the edge of the garden sat a young man, watching them. He wore an elegant suit and there was a bowler hat on the table next to him. A thin curled mustache stretched out above either side of his mouth. He had deep green eyes and a very delicate scar down his forehead, accentuated by the sunlight. In his right hand he held a monocle, and every so often he put the lens up to his eye, which became — Rafael noticed from his seat — extremely large and gave his handsome face a slightly distorted look. He spoke French with the waiter, and Rafael tried to identify his accent. Greek, perhaps? Or Italian?
When the three got up to leave, Rafael turned back and his eyes met those of the young man, who kept watching as they left the garden and walked down the street, arm in arm. A church bell rang nearby, and Rafael took out his gold watch. “Are you hungry?” he asked the two ladies.
“Very!” Laila answered.
Adela said nothing. She pursed her lips, and a slight tremor went down Rafael’s back upon seeing her altered expression, now suddenly gloomy.
Laila went up to her room to change for lunch.
“Is everything all right?” Rafael asked Adela. He spoke to her in French.
“Absolutely fine,” she answered in their language, and looked away.
“How do you feel so far with Laila?”
“I don’t know. How do you?”
“Excellent,” Rafael declared. “I think our reunion with her is very moving. Don’t you?”
“I don’t know, Rafael.” Adela looked at him. “Imagine: We may never see her again.”
“Is that really what you want?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then I must tell you,” he said, trying to remain composed, “that she is very dear to me and I do not want to lose her.”
“More dear to you than I am?”
“You know that’s not true,” Rafael answered drily. “God, why must you be so difficult?” He was trying not to shout.
“Maybe I’m not the one who’s difficult,” Adela said reproachfully, though it amused her to see his renowned coolheadedness finally crack. “Maybe it’s you who are the difficult one in this whole story, Rafael, despite all your quiet tenderness? Did you ever consider that?”
“Adela, you’re very tired. You’re not making any sense. There is a lovely girl here who loves us…”
“She really does love us, there’s no arguing that. But she is only faithful to one thing in the world: whatever makes her feel good.”
“I’m not willing to continue this conversation,” he said angrily. “You’re behaving destructively, both to yourself and to the three of us. I ask that you compose yourself.”
Adela let out a snort of contempt and fell silent. When Laila reappeared, she found them standing with their backs to each other. Rafael glared at a tree while Adela kicked at some gravel on the sidewalk. They walked silently to the restaurant.
After lunch they happened to pass a photography studio, and Rafael suggested they go in and get their picture taken together. Laila happily agreed, Adela conceded grudgingly, and next thing they knew they were seated on three chairs in front of a window, while the photographer hid behind his large camera.
After the photograph they went back to their room. Rafael undressed and put on his robe. Adela lay down on the bed fully clothed, staring at the ceiling with her hands crossed behind her neck. Laila took off her dress. She felt heavy after their meal, and suddenly ashamed. She squirmed this way and that, and finally covered herself with a thin blanket. Under the covers, Rafael touched her body on one side, and Adela’s on the other.
Laila acquiesced. Rafael gently kissed her body, then Adela’s. The two women looked into each other’s eyes. Rafael took off his robe, and his heavy, warm body covered Adela’s stomach. His shoulders hunched up slightly on his way to Laila and he stretched his neck out, but when Laila moved her face closer and kissed him, his head suddenly fell forward in defeat.
They were flooded with longings fr
om head to toe. It seemed to Adela that she had never felt such tension. She ran her fingers through Rafael’s hair, touched Laila’s eyelids, stroked her own body as though acquainting herself with it for the first time. Rafael turned his head to one side, then to the other, and Adela felt even more keenly than before that this situation was beyond her strength. She forced herself to think about different places, far away and barren. But the tide rushed in again, and with terror she envisioned her own limbs floating high above the bed and then slamming back down to the ground.
Rafael threw the entire weight of his body onto hers, as though he wanted to punish her for the way she had treated him. But even if he wanted to hurt her, his moves were quiet, focused, and wondrously gentle. She surrendered to his tenderness and to the slowness with which he melted the tension in her limbs and pushed his way into her. She looked to her side and saw Laila watching them, caressing her stomach with wide circles. She held her hand out to Laila with what seemed like a desperate reach, but Laila caught her fingers, kissed them quickly, and moved them away from her body. Adela was overcome by nausea. She gripped Rafael, who kept boring into her with rhythmical blows, and tried to crush his heavy, foreign body. When she could not do it, she pushed him off with a grunt, and from her throat came low, deep sounds. He finally let her be, but there was something violent in the way his body disconnected and abandoned her there, pent up and breathless.
But then he came to her again. Adela closed her eyes and thought about Taher, about his large hands, his eyes, the smell that came from his shirt. She stomped her feet, a shudder ran through her body, and again a deep growl emerged, and she suddenly wanted Rafael again and grabbed the back of his neck and dug her trembling fingers in. It had been a long time since their movements had been so coordinated. But just as she opened up, she suddenly felt him shift his weight aside and fall away from her. She opened her eyes a slit and saw his fingers stroking Laila’s outstretched arm. In a turmoil of emotions, she opened her eyes wide and saw him kiss the chest and neck of the woman lying next to her, climb up to her lips and cheeks and cover her face with kisses. She tried to pull him back to her, but his body was now completely directed at Laila, and he lifted off Adela’s body with a painful thrust. She moaned and felt the cold air on her body.