Reuven is suffering. This is not how he imagined the conversation. She's eluding me. I talk to her, and she dances circles round me. What is she thinking? You can never tell what they're thinking. They dance. You talk and they dance. They're both the same. Outwardly they look calm, but inside, a raving demon. But not her. I won't let her. She's mine.
Affectionately, half-jokingly, Reuven asked:
"To come to the point, Stella, what demon's got into you?"
Affectionately, half-jokingly, Noga answered:
"A wonderful demon, Daddy. A sad, wise demon, full of love. Sometimes he's frightening, but he's a gentle demon. A tired demon."
"Now I'll tell you something," Reuven said. "Something about your mother."
"No," said Noga. "Not that. I won't listen."
"Yes. You will listen. You must listen," said Reuven Harish, pressing home to the full his unexpected advantage.
"No. I don't have to. I won't listen. I won't listen to anything."
"When that wretch Hamburger came, your mother loathed him. I'm not exaggerating: she loathed him, but she behaved politely. He was a close relative; they had grown up in the same house together, but apparently the war corrupted him. That was what your mother thought. She said that he wasn't himself. He wasn't the little boy who had been betrothed to her when she was a little girl. He was someone else. A clown imitating the speech and manners of that dead boy. Well, then. Actually he spent the war in Switzerland, making money by speculating. I'll tell you about that, too, some time. Your mother said she hoped he'd leave soon. Tomorrow. At once. I was the one who urged her to behave politely toward him. After all, he'd had a hard life. He'd suffered a lot. But your mother hated him. He was clever. He used to say things like 'tame partridge' and laugh a slimy laugh. Your mother asked him to shut up, for heaven's sake. He would wink and say, for instance, 'Cold und Silber' or 'Rous, raus, Dichter.' These remarks hurt your mother terribly. He talked a great deal about women, by the way."
"I'm not listening."
"I looked after him most of the time because your mother didn't like to be near him. I took the wretched creature to Jerusalem, Sodom, Elat. Every place, every sight, every name reminded him of some obscenity or dirty joke. He made a point of spending a lot of money on me. Tried to be friendly with his great toothy horse smiles. He had enormous teeth. He talked about women. And he winked."
"I'm not listening."
"Once we were coming out of the dining hall, he and your mother and I, and he asked with a wink if it was true that we practiced free love here. The smile showed all those teeth of his. Your mother was so disgusted she ran off. When she came back, he sang some German nursery rhyme about Franzi the gardener peeping into the cellar and watching the prince's children praying. Make him go away tomorrow, your mother said that night, make him go at once. Tomorrow. He didn't stay with us long. Perhaps a fortnight. Then suddenly…"
"I'm not listening to a word you're saying. You're talking to thin air."
"Then one day I went to Tel Aviv, Stella dear, one awful day, and the next day I came home and there was nothing left. Some madness had taken hold of your mother. She went off with that swine. But in her heart, Noga my darling, in her heart I know she regrets it all. Her infatuation ruined her. Me. Us. She wrote me a long letter from Europe a month later, pouring her heart out. Her Isaac was a little angel once; they used to play duets together on the piano when they were little, read poetry, write, draw, but suffering had corrupted him, and she felt it was up to her, and her alone, to purify him. That was how we lost your mother. You were just a little toddler then."
"Daddy, don't say any more. Be nice. Please, please stop, Daddy."
"Her infatuation ruined everything. I'm not beating about the bush now. I'm telling you straight out, Noga."
"You did the same to someone else."
"No, I didn't. How can you compare it? Bronka and I…"
"You and Bronka. Me and Ezra. That's life. It's not made of words. It's ugly. I want you to stop now. Stop talking."
***
Then, for no reason, the girl dragged her father over to the shadow of a nearby tree and kissed his face, uttering as she did so a sob that sounded like a smothered laugh or a puppy's crying. Reuven stifled his words and gently stroked his daughter's hair and murmered, "Stella, Stella," and whispered to her to be careful, and Noga — in the soft low voice of another woman — told Reuven that she loved him now and always, while the hamsin raged relentlessly, unmoved even by powerful emotions.
Noga went to the abandoned stable to wait for Ezra's return. The darkness and the ancient smells of decay frightened her for once, and so she waited at the entrance to the stable. She sat down on a dark, rotting board and thought. Suffering corrupted him, and she felt it was up to her, and her alone, to purify him. This is where we found the rope. It wasn't very long ago. It's a long time since there were horses here. Horses aren't used any more. They've had their day. A horse is a splendid animal. A horse is a powerful animal. There's a contradiction in a horse. He can be wild, and rush over the plains. A horse has a wild smell when he sweats. I feel dizzy when I think of a horse's smell. He had enormous teeth, like a horse, Daddy said. A galloping horse is the most beautiful animal in the world. He spent the war in Switzerland, making money by speculating. Speculation is wrong. Franzi the gardener, what did Franzi the gardener see, what were the prince's children doing in a dark cellar? And what did he mean by "tame partridge"? How clumsy he looked when he poured the water I brought him down his throat without putting the mug to his lips, and the water splashed onto his chin and trickled down his neck and vanished into the hair on his chest. How strong. When he's driving, he thinks about the Bible, about Rachel, and Leah, for instance, and their children. "Leah" can mean "tired" in Hebrew. That's pretty, but sad. He didn't even know what turquoise was, but I taught him because I'm responsible for him. What does Raus, raus, Dichter mean? I wish I knew. Outside it's hot in the stable it's nice and cool I'm frightened to go inside don't be frightened Franzi the gardener is a good man he won't tell on the little princess. Mummy was prettier than me. Her light blue dressing gown I wore once and he met me on the path and said Cold und Silber and looked at me not at my face then he turned his head and looked away. Daddy's sure she regrets it all in her heart. You don't regret in your heart. Only in literary language. He asked if we practiced free love here. Mummy wanted him to go away. But I'm Daddy's daughter, too. Green eyes. It's true. Now listen carefully, Ezra, there's one thing you've got to remember. I love a horse because he's wild and I have to purify because I'm responsible. It's almost midnight. Not long now. Soon you'll. Old Franzi, the gardener, shame on his peeping eyes. And, you know, there's a contradiction in the color turquoise: it's blue and it's green, like a horse, which can be mild or wild.
Ezra spent a long time tonight with his friends the fishermen in Tiberias. He got home to the kibbutz at one o'clock in the morning. Noga had leaped up onto the running board before the truck stopped. She put her head into the cab and smiled, and her teeth chattered. She must be ill, Hushed with fever. Go to bed, little girl, you're trembling all over, are you crazy. Yes, Ezra, yes, yes. You're not well, little one, get moving, Turquoise, forward march — to bed, do you hear, little baby, don't argue now. No, I can't hear, Ezra, I can't hear a word. You're ill, silly, you've got a temperature. Little bear is feeling ill, stayed up late and caught a chill. Don't talk, Ezra, I don't want you to talk, I want you to put your arms round me and explain to me what "tame partridge" means and two more words I've forgotten. No, you're confused, Turquoise, you don't know what you're doing. I do know. I know what I want. I want you to put your arms round me and not talk and not talk in proverbs. And not talk.
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