David Grossman - The Book of Intimate Grammar

Breathlessly he studied Gideon’s inscrutable face, alarmed that Gideon had allowed him to become so completely embroiled in his own lies, but he went on delving for new words to offer him, not that words were so important; only Gideon was sitting there, pursing his lips and waiting to see what would happen next. Why wasn’t he talking or lecturing anymore? Why this utter silence? Okay then, he would be silent too, silent like a man. And then, see, this Gideon kid, he’s a born flier, always building model planes, a member of the air force youth battalion, so when the squad commander asks for a volunteer to fly behind enemy lines and rescue the pilot who was shot down — and at this point Gideon might have hinted, indicated by a mere gesture that he was fed up with this pathetic, transparent lie, and Aron would have quit then and there, he would have laughed loudly and told him he was only joshing, goofing around to relieve the tension of the military alert; he had kept the option open the whole time, over the years he had learned pretty well how to maintain his dignity, how to hide the erosion inside, but Gideon didn’t speak, didn’t try to make it any easier for him, he forced him to take it further and further, to the point where it would be almost impossible to retreat with a laugh and a joke, so he sat there with his legs pressed together, watching him with cold, scientificeyes. And then there’s this scene in the movie when Gideon finds his brother in an oasis, and they both swim naked, sure, naked, how else are they supposed to swim? With their clothes on? God, you’re a baby. But you only see them from the back. Right. So what are you saying, the cameraman should close his eyes? Are you embarrassed to take your pants down for half a minute? The kids in our class? What about them? Look out, he thought, Gideon’s bluffing, pretending to be interested, but he isn’t. He’s a stranger already. He’s one of them. And Aron tried to appear calm and innocent, and not to twitch, though he knew he was falling deeper and deeper into Gideon’s trap, but what choice did he have, it was life or death like never before, and just in case, in case there was a minute particle of the real Gideon somewhere, willing to share this moment with him, he said, Who cares about the kids in our class, imagine how jealous of you they’ll be for starring in a movie. Gideon pretended to listen. You could see he was planning to tell everyone that Aron had lost his mind, as if a thing like that could happen in our family. All right, if you insist, we’ll restrict the movie to sixteen and over, but for your information, they won’t let us see the movie then either, or maybe they will, if we promise to close our eyes when that scene comes on, at the grand premiere with the Prime Minister and the President and the air force commander. What are you laughing at, why are you laughing like that? Of course they’ll be there. Now Gideon was laughing to tears. Wiping his eyes, groaning, slapping his thigh. Here was his chance to retreat. To say he was only goofing around. Putting him on. What a gas. But he didn’t have the strength to talk that way. He didn’t have the strength to retreat. He had to see it one more time, in broad daylight with his own eyes. To see what had happened to this body he knew almost as well as his own. And how could he have been fool enough to think Gideon was waiting for him all these years, that he was a friend through and through. What remained of Gideon in the boy here who moved and walked and talked as if he wasn’t afraid of anything; if they dropped him down in the middle of China he would know instinctively how to behave; he bowed his head: it was true. What was left of his Gideon? Even the loyal old Gideon inside him was almost gone by now. A whole bar of chocolate he had to devour, twenty-four squares of friendship-sugar a day to preserve the memory. And from close up it was obvious that Gideon had stoppedtaking the pills: you could see he had made incredible progress: those muscles in his arms, the big strong veins sticking out on his hands, and his voice, it was so deep, and his Adam’s apple bulged, as though the five milligrams of Valium twice a week really had been holding him back all this time. And here you are, making such a big fuss about showing your tuchis on the screen when I’m talking about a grand premiere and Academy Awards and your picture all over the papers; you make me laugh, Gideon, you actually believe I’d pick an actor without making sure he’s right for the part? Suddenly Gideon’s ears pricked up. Not a good sign. Gideon’s sincere, responsible family ears. Sure I’ve seen you, why are you laughing, but that was ages ago, go on, laugh! What are you laughing at? I’m not speaking as a friend now. Forget we’re friends: I’m speaking as a professional. You know what? Don’t show me, okay? Don’t do me any favors. Skip it. Let’s go home. Actually, you go on by yourself. I want to stay here awhile longer. To plan the filming. Who cares about your tuchis.

But Gideon didn’t budge. He sat on the rock watching Aron with heightened curiosity, like someone waiting for the next performance to begin, though he looked a little surprised, a little cruel too. Aron was appalled to recognize the malice of Gideon’s father’s face in his expression: Gideon was using everything he had. He was unbelievably cool. He was mature. Aron gave up in silence. From the street above they heard a raucous horn. The Lambretta was coming. Zacky Smitanka, thought Aron resentfully, Zacky Smitanka. Once we were friends. Whole chunks of my life have turned white with mildew. So what were you saying? Didn’t you just say something? So will you or won’t you? So are you or aren’t you? Yes or no? Just let me have a quick look, to see if you’re right for the part. Sure I’m serious. Do I look like I’m joking, or what?

And just then Gideon came round. Or pretended to. Who could tell. Nobody thought, nobody planned it that way. It just sort of happened. Thank God, said Aron, it’s about time. Get behind the rock and strip, and I’ll only peek for a second. As if anyone ever walks down this way. It’s almost dark. For pity’s sake, Gideon, you’re such a baby.

Slowly Gideon slid off the rock and stood beside him with a sidelong glance. He considered for a minute, straightened up, turned away unhurriedly, and went behind the rock. Please, please, begged Aron inwardly.Never mind the shame and humiliation. The important thing is to see whether it’s yes or no … After that they can all drop dead as far as I’m concerned, they can all drop dead.

Gideon emerged from behind the rock. He looked at Aron with an unfamiliar expression: goading, disdainful. Then, quite simply, he turned to leave. He was dressed. He hadn’t taken his pants off. He’d been mocking him all along. Aron froze, then flew at him. Gideon started running, running lightly, effortlessly. The distance between them remained the same, no matter how hard Aron ran.

He pursued him through the valley, amazed to see Gideon so far in the lead, seeming to enjoy the chase, to be merely trying to wear him out and show him how quickly his little legs would tire. They ran in silence for a moment or two, the distance between them never diminishing, around the soccer field, and past the cave, and across the junkyard, circling widely back to the rock, where suddenly Gideon stopped running and veered around, and Aron too came to a standstill, panting and red and goggle-eyed. Gideon’s face wore a puzzling expression: neither masculine nor quite feminine either. As though taking his time about deciding, savoring his right to choose, leisurely and calm even as it crystallized. Then, with a strange lingering movement, he began to pull his pants down, offering Aron a glimpse of that heartrending weft of gloom. Twice, in broad daylight, thought Aron. Gideon’s eyes glinted with the vicious relief of the survivor, it was almost as if he had been eagerly anticipating this performance all along, that he had an impure urge to mingle with the secretion of Aron’s brain. Again he turned to leave, only this time he didn’t bother running, and Aron pounced on him with a bitter scream.