Amos Oz - Elsewhere, Perhaps

"No, Noga, I shouldn't drink coffee at a time like this. This is no time for drinking coffee."

"Yes, you are going to have coffee. It's all ready. Don't argue."

After a nicely calculated interval Herbert Segal returned to his room. He found the two young people deep in an argument about the planets. Rami argued that Venus was the planet closest to Earth. Noga insisted that Mars was much closer, because there were intelligent creatures on it, who dug canals. They both produced decisive arguments based on things they remembered well from school. Each accused the other of remembering badly and confusing the facts. Rami accidentally touched Noga's stomach with his elbow, and his face turned scarlet. Their argument was not a bitter one. A certain friendliness animated it. If it weren't for the time and the place, Herbert Segal said to himself, you would think it was brotherly love. Herbert did not forget for an instant their respective conditions. At that moment he was suddenly conscious of the weight of his own loneliness. He wanted music. He longed for a tune as an alcoholic longs for wine. He controlled himself. Now that things were taking a turn for the better he should be feeling satisfied. No. He stared in front of him in silent dismay. He seemed to see Fruma, and he said to her: Fruma. He bit his lips and tightened them to a narrow line. He ordered himself to be clear-headed. He obeyed the order. He mustered the image and dismissed it.

Rami said:

"This little girl behaves as if she knew everything."

Noga said:

"Don't be ashamed to admit you were wrong. It's nothing to be ashamed of. To err is human."

Herbert explained gently that Venus is usually closer to Earth, but that in certain rare conditions Mars is nearer. On the other hand, Mars is closer to Earth in its outward appearance. Both Noga and Rami accepted Herbert's verdict. Neither had really wanted to win the argument. Herbert told them what he knew about the nearer planets and gave an account of the unsolved mysteries surrounding them. He went on to explain the differences between astronomy and astrology, a difference that symbolizes the contrast between the two great streams of human intellectual life, Myth and Logos.

The conversation continued. Herbert thrilled and amazed his guests. Early in the evening Nina Goldring arrived with a tray of food. Noga and Rami were so absorbed that they did not give her a glance. Nina left in a state of stunned amazement. She needed to share her amazement with one of her friends. She happened to meet Hasia or Esther. And a little bird did the rest.

As for Herbert and his guests, an almost palpable bond of sympathy was forged between them.

Rami Rominov stayed with Herbert Segal for the seven days of mourning. Herbert went back to his work in the cow shed, but he spent his free time sitting with Rami and talking to him about music. If it had not been for the rules of mourning he would have played him some examples. His descriptions were so vivid that Rami could almost hear the music.

Even when Herbert was working, Rami was not abandoned to solitude. Noga kept him company. On the third day she offered to read him some of her favorite poems. Rami supposed that that would be inappropriate. Noga replied that grief was a matter of feeling, not of rules and customs. Rami agreed.

By the end of the third day they had reached the point where Rami asked Noga when the baby was due. Noga stared out of the window toward the mountain, softly touched her belly and answered dreamily that it was due at the end of the winter. She was longing for winter to come. Summer was flat and empty, winter was dark and deep and alive.

Rami went on to ask gently what she intended to do, that was to say, what… what were her plans. Noga admitted that if it were not for her father she would have decided long ago to go to her mother, to have the baby far away, to live there for a few years, and get a taste of a different life. But it was difficult for her to decide what was better for her father, for her to go or to stay. It was madness. But she did not explain which of the two alternatives seemed to her to be mad.

Rami said:

"At first, my mother hoped that we'd get married. So did I. Then she hated you, and so did I. Specially that Friday — remember? — when I came home on leave for the first time, and there was that air battle and you were rude to me. I nearly… I nearly did something terrible that night. I'll tell you all about it some time. Down by the fish ponds, in Grisha's hut, I stood there and… I was very upset. Because of you, Noga. It was your fault. But now I don't… I mean, I want, I wanted to tell you that… now I respect what you've done. Maybe respect isn't quite the right word, but I really do. Terribly. That you've decided to have the baby. I really do."

Noga seemed pleased by Rami's speech. She reached out and touched his cheek. She withdrew her finger at once. She was not smiling.

Rami told her about the course he was going to go on, for which there was a complicated preparatory training. Once I thought I'd be a great soldier. Now I think I dreamed too much of being another Yoash. Now I think people aren't the same. Not all exactly alike. I mean there are different kinds of people. People have different kinds of character. Don't laugh. You won't believe me, Noga, I… for instance recently I've been reading some books about art. Don't laugh at me. Yes, you did smile."

Noga, naturally, had not laughed at Rami.

It seemed that Rami was making a quick recovery. Even Nina Goldring noticed. And of course Herbert Segal kept a watchful eye open. Herbert was full of quiet pride. Needless to say he controlled it and did not reveal it to anybody.

On one occasion Gai Harish came into the room carrying a basket full of strawberries sent by Reuven from his garden. Who was tending the garden now? Gai himself. Gai did not give in when his sister begged him to stay and talk to her and Rami. He had to go back to Daddy. He had promised to paint the table on the veranda blue. And he was in the habit of keeping his promises.

Noga kissed him on his pointed chin.

On the fifth day renewed gloom settled on Rami. He wanted to go to the cemetery. Noga joined him without asking. Beside the mound of earth with its flimsy wooden marker, the boy stood for a few minutes, his mouth tightened by sadness. His face bore a surprised expression, as if he had forgotten why he had come.

On their way back they crossed the wood by the swimming pool. The dead pine needles that whispered beneath their feet awoke memories in them. Rami said:

"It seems like years ago."

Noga agreed.

When the week of mourning was over, Rami rejoined his unit. Two days later Noga had a long letter from him, couched in emotional language. Next day Herbert Segal, too, had a letter from his protege, giving a detailed account of his life, except for those details that are not allowed to be told to civilians. From now on Rami wrote to Noga almost every day. To Herbert Segal he wrote regularly twice a week. At Rami's specific request, Herbert took out a subscription to a literary and artistic magazine for him. He asked Rami to write and share his impressions of the magazine. Rami did so.

Needless to say, the course of events did not escape our watchful eye. Opinions were divided. Some said:

"It's in bad taste, to say the least. Fruma must be turning in her grave. How could he, even before the week of mourning was up… And who with? With a girl in that condition…"

Others said:

"Herbert is pulling the strings. He has plans of his own."

And others again said:

"After all, they're both unhappy. So they have something in common now. In fact, it may all be for the best. What's wrong with it, after all?"