Jonathan Foer - Here I Am

Or stumbled upon an artifact of old battle, which might have been safe to examine, explore, even value.

What if, instead of apologizing and turning, he’d asked her if the need to conceal herself was new, or old with a new justification?

When Robert E. Lee’s defensive line at Petersburg had been broken and the evacuation of Richmond was imminent, Jefferson Davis ordered the Confederate treasury be moved. It went by train, and then wagon, under many eyes and between many hands. The Union pressed forward, the Confederacy crumbled, and the whereabouts of the five tons of gold bars remain a mystery, although they are assumed buried.

What if, instead of apologizing and turning, he’d gone to her, touched her, shown her not only that he still wanted to make love to her, but that he was still capable of risking rejection?

On Jacob’s first visit to Israel, his cousin Shlomo took the family to the Dome of the Rock, which at the time could be entered by non-Muslims. Jacob was as deeply moved by the devotion of the men on the prayer rugs as he was by the Jews below. He was more moved, because the devotion was less self-conscious: at the Wailing Wall the men merely bobbed; here they wailed. Shlomo explained that they were standing atop a cave carved into the Foundation Stone. And in the floor of that cave was a slight depression, thought to be above another cave, often referred to as the Well of Souls. It was there that Abraham answered God’s call, and prepared to sacrifice his beloved son; there that Muhammad ascended to heaven; there that the Ark of the Covenant was buried, full of broken and whole tablets. According to the Talmud, the stone marks the center of the world, serving as a cover for the abyss in which the waters from the Flood still rage.

“We are standing atop the greatest archaeological site that will never be,” Shlomo said, “filled with the most valuable objects in the world, the place where history and religion meet. All underground, never to be touched.”

Irv was adamant that Israel should dig, come what may. It was a cultural, historical, and intellectual obligation. But to Jacob, until those things were unearthed — until they could be seen and touched — they would be unreal. So it was better to keep them out of sight.

What if, instead of apologizing and turning, Jacob had gone to Julia and lifted the towel, as he’d lifted her veil before the wedding, confirming that she was still the woman she said she was, the woman he still wanted?

Jacob tried to keep the conversations with Julia underground, but she needed the end of their family to be seen and touched. She expressed her continued respect for Jacob, her desire to be friends, best friends, and good co-parents, the best , and to use a mediator and not get lost in all that was not to be cared about, and to live around the corner from each other and go on vacations together, and to dance at each other’s second weddings — although she swore that she would never marry again. Jacob agreed, without believing that any of what she said was either happening or would happen. They’d experienced so many necessary passages — sleep-training the boys, teething, falls from small bicycles, Sam’s physical therapy. This, too, would probably pass.

They could navigate the house to avoid each other, and they could navigate conversations to maintain the illusion of safety, but there was no underground when a child was in the room or the conversation. Many times, Julia would catch sight of one of the boys — Benjy looking up in thought from a drawing of Odysseus facing the Cyclops, Max examining the hairs on his forearm, Sam carefully applying reinforcements as needed in his binder — and think, I can’t .

And Jacob would think, We won’t .

The day before the beginning of the destruction of Israel, Julia and Sam were scrambling to get their things together before the Uber driver, Mohammed, was moved to give them a one-star rating, thereby sealing their fate as haram passengers. Jacob was preparing Benjy, who was dressed like a pirate, for a day with his grandparents.

“You have everything?” Julia asked Sam.

“ Yes ,” he said, unable to muster the herculean effort to conceal his annoyance at nothing.

“Don’t yes Mom,” Jacob said, for Julia’s benefit and his own. Camaraderie had been hard to find in the past two weeks — not because there was cruelty, just the absence of direct interaction. There had been a few moments, usually triggered by a shared reflexive wonder at something one of the boys had said or done, when it felt like Jacob and Julia were once again wearing the same uniform. The day Oliver Sacks died, Jacob shared some of his hero’s life with the boys, explaining the range of his interests, his closeted homosexuality, his famous use of L-dopa with human produce, and how perhaps the most curious and engaged person of the last fifty years spent more than thirty of those years celibate.

“Celibate?” Max asked.

“Not having sex.”

“So?”

“So he was eager to take in everything the world had to offer, but he didn’t want to, or couldn’t, share himself.”

“Maybe he was impotent,” Julia suggested.

“No,” Jacob said, feeling the wound open, “he just—”

“Or maybe he was patient.”

“I’m celibate,” Benjy said.

“You?” Sam said. “You’re Wilt Chamberlain.”

“I’m not whoever that is, and I haven’t stuck my penis into another person’s vagina hole.”

The defense of his celibacy was kind of funny. Referring to “another person’s vagina hole” was kind of funny. But he said funnier, more precocious things every few minutes. It didn’t feel like a metaphor, or accidental wisdom. It didn’t scratch any exposed nerves. But for the first time since she discovered the phone, it forced Julia’s eyes to meet Jacob’s. And in that moment, he felt sure that they would find their way back.

But there wasn’t a lot of camaraderie now.

“What did I say?” Sam asked.

“It’s how you said it,” Jacob said.

“How did I say whatever I said?”

“Like this,” Jacob said, imitating Sam’s Yes .

“I can handle my half of a conversation with my son,” Julia told Jacob. Then she asked Sam, “Did you remember your toothbrush?”

“Of course he has his toothbrush,” Jacob said, making a small allegiance correction.

“ Shit ,” Sam said, turning and hustling upstairs.

“He wanted you to chaperone,” Julia said.

“No. I don’t think that’s true.”

She picked up Benjy and said, “I’m going to miss you, my little man.”

“Opi said I can say bad words at his house.”

“In his house, it’s his rules,” Jacob said.

“Well, no,” Julia corrected.

“ Shit , or penis …”

“ Penis isn’t a bad word,” Jacob said.

“I doubt Omi would like you talking like that.”

“Opi said it didn’t matter.”

“You misheard him.”

“He said, ‘Omi doesn’t matter.’”

“He was joking ,” Jacob said.

“ Asshole is a bad word.”

Sam came back down the stairs with his toothbrush.

“Dress shoes?” Julia asked.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

“ Fuck , too,” Benjy said.

Sam hustled back up the stairs.

“Maybe give him a bit more space?” Jacob suggested in the form of a question ostensibly addressed to the collective consciousness.

“I don’t think I was being annoying.”

“Of course you weren’t. I just meant that Mark can play the bad guy on the trip. If necessary.”

“Hopefully it won’t be.”