David Grossman - The Book of Intimate Grammar

She stood up with a sigh and dragged Grandma off to bed. A few minutes later she returned, with a hasty glimpse at Aron still sitting at the table all by himself; he didn’t even bother to hide the blue-and-purple stains on his knuckles from her. Mama cleared the table. She set about baking a cake to send Yochi. She worked in silence beside him. More wearily than usual. When the silence grew unbearable she turned on the transistor. The management of the Sport Toto wishes to announce that due to the recruitment of many players to military service, all upcoming lotteries and National League games are hereby postponed. Tickets will be refunded at their place of purchase — She switched it off angrily. Aron was shocked. What did they mean, postponing the games. He shook his head in anger: It’s not fair. They’re not fair.

Mama groaned as she cracked the first egg, and her face turned very pale. Aron watched her, not daring to move. She pressed a frightenedhand to her belly. Slowly she took off her kangaroo apron and hung it on the hook. Aron didn’t get up, and didn’t ask what happened. He saw her totter to her bedroom. He was left alone in the kitchen. He cupped his hand around his nose and mouth and smelled the stink, and he knew it came from inside him, from his putrefying brain; soon all the thoughts and words that went through it would come out sick, covered with white patches, stubbed like a cigarette butt. Nervously he switched on the transistor, heard that the Helena Rubinstein Corporation wishes to inform the women of Israel that we are doing everything possible to continue production in this emergency state, to help you look your loveliest for that special man in the army. Kibbutz Or Haner announces that the wedding scheduled for next Tuesday has been postponed until — He switched it off. Soon he would go to sleep. To muster strength for tomorrow. He looked for a clean glass to drink water from but didn’t find one. Drank from a dirty glass instead. In the sink was the egg with the big bloody spot. He felt exhausted again and sat down. He thought he could see Papa on his knees at Mama’s bedside, hugging her, his head buried in her body. Over and over he grumbled to himself, What do they mean, postponing the National League, what harm would there be in letting the players out of the army for a day, for a measly few hours, instead of shutting them in there with those stupid Helena Rubinstein people. Furiously he smacked his fist.

And what’s that stink coming out of you? said Mama in a new voice, loud and impervious, when she came to wake him the following morning, and rudely, gruffly, raised the blinds before turning back to him for a better look. You’ve had it for a couple of days already. Notice that she’s looking straight at you, she isn’t afraid of you anymore. And he curled up and hid his face in the pillow; what’s changed her, why is she acting strange? She leaned over him and began to sniff suspiciously, from his feet up to his head, the way she used to sniff Grandma from behind, and suddenly she squinted. Aron to Aron, run for your life, danger, danger, over; he’d seen that look in her eyes before, the flash of horror that time in the kitchen after the thorough cleaning when the shit came out. Roughly she turned him over on his back, pushed away the hands he held up to guard his face, sniffed hard, then zeroed in on his nose. You’re insane, what have you done to your nose, meshuggeneh; it was bad enough without adding this chendelach to your list; in case the blind can’t see what you are, at least they’ll be able tosmell you? And the doctor at the first-aid station said there was no need to worry, that’s the smell you give off when something gets caught in your nasal cavities. Did he by any chance remember accidentally sticking something small up there? Aron only shook his head. Aron to Aron, get out, get out, run for your life, over. All around the station there was tumult. They were getting the stretchers ready, packing bandages, taking an inventory of medicines. From the corner of his eye Aron saw two seventh-graders he knew strutting around in white coats. Everyone looked busy, as though they were hurrying to an important meeting, even the children wore that expression on their faces. It’s a matter of a day or two before the thing starts, breathed the doctor, sticking a fine pair of tweezers into Aron’s nose and poking around. Aha, got it, ho there, that’s in pretty deep, here it comes, we’ll force it out of you, don’t move, it might hurt for just a second, and slowly and carefully he removed the vile-smelling glob and waved it in the air, but his smile of triumph quickly vanished as he peered more closely at the glob, smudged with letters. A boy your age, putting something up your nose, shame on you. The doctor was aghast, tilting his head at Aron, tsss tsss tsss, that’s something you’d expect from a three-year-old, not a grown-up ten-year-old. Silence. Mama froze. Now let her tell him, let her tell the doctor everything and the doctor will tell us what has to be done. This was the last chance. And maybe there was a perfectly simple solution. An electric shock or something. A moment of pain and it’ll be over. Now, please, before the war starts, because afterward who’ll care? He’s twelve, mumbled Mama, shamefaced. Aron stared at her. She didn’t set him straight. And before his eyes, caught in the tweezers, waved the letter that would never arrive at its destination. Aron to Aron, what now, over. He winced at himself. He had no right to complain about her. Wasn’t he too standing here not daring to open his mouth, any more than he had when she bought him elevator shoes for his bar mitzvah. He had said nothing to her then, and hated himself for it, for having betrayed himself. Twelve and a half, she mumbled lamely, tucking her head between her shoulders, dark with disgrace.

And the next day was the last day. At four o‘clock Aron went down to the valley wearing a clean pair of pants and a crisply ironed shirt, his hair slicked down with water. He left the house without a goodbye, for fear that the sight of them would hold him back or set something off inside. He had all his equipment with him. He even remembered thebig can opener, which he hid in his pants. He arrived at the rock and climbed up it, and at the highest point, with the help of his little red mirror, he flashed the reflected sun at Gideon’s open window; three short flashes, then three long ones, and three short ones again. Three times over he did it, his hands trembling slightly but scrupulous with the rhythm, and then he sat down on the rock again, feeling weak, curling up on Gideon’s part of the rock shelf, trying to stop what he was feeling, the draining out, and he must have fallen asleep then, wishing someone would touch him on the shoulder and say, You rang? But at exactly five o’clock he awoke all alone, and stood up languidly and flashed the mirror again three times, aiming at the ceiling in Gideon’s room, because maybe the first time Gideon was sleeping and didn’t see, and right away his knees buckled and he slipped off the rock and lay beside it; he’d had this stunned and hollow feeling, right here, the time he broke his arm; he had been crazy with despair then, much more than now, now was nothing in comparison, now was almost over. Back then he had jumped up and down for over half an hour. Maybe an hour. Waiting for just the right moment when his ofzeluchi brain would stray. When it would neglect to order his arm to bend in time. Back then he’d gone over all his troubles: Giora trying to drown him to save himself, Giora’s hand-me-downs, the looks people gave him everywhere he went, the insults, sly or obvious; and nothing helped, until he imagined round little Uncle Loniu standing before him at the bar mitzvah, repeating “Body-building, body-building,” and suddenly it happened, he heard a crack, and felt the pain, the worst he’d ever experienced, shooting through him as he realized he’d done it, he’d actually done a thing like that, and now they would never send him to Tel Aviv, and that’s when he started to get scared.