Amos Oz - Elsewhere, Perhaps

The time that Noga spent with Rami in Herbert Segal's room she had not spent with Zechariah-Siegfried Berger. To be more precise, she had stopped seeing him. On the other hand, we cannot deny that she longed to see him and to listen to him, and especially to hear the sound of his voice. On one occasion Zechariah-Siegfried had told her with a curious smile that he was here as the emissary of a distant power. Noga considered that she found him fascinating because he was strange and full of surprises. Now that she re-examined his remark she discovered a touching poetical meaning to it.

Sometimes at night she woke up in a fever of wanderlust. She sat up in bed, stretched her arms out in front of her as in a dance, and whispered: Take me, gray uncle, take Turquoise somewhere else, far, far away, take her to her mother, into the darkness, into those dark forests of yours.

One morning, as she was getting dressed, she felt a gentle spasm inside her. She felt herself anxiously. The spasm stopped, and did not reappear for several days. That morning she had meant to go and look for Zechariah. Her experience made her change her mind, and decide not to see him. But she was unable to explain the connection between cause and affect. She did not try very hard. She went to her father's room instead.

She found Reuven lying in bed, surrounded by pills and medicines, reading an old German book. She stayed with him for a couple of hours. She asked him to tell her about Fruma Rominov as a young woman. Reuven complied willingly, but he spoke in a tired voice.

Alter Rominov had never been a well man. Yet he always refused to see the doctor. We always used to see Fruma running along next to the doctor pressing him with questions and complaints. Fruma and Alter, despite the difference in their characters, were always devoted to each other. Alter gave in to Fruma, though, in almost everything. Fruma was a determined woman.

The change that had taken place in Noga did not escape Zechariah's attention. On one occasion he shared his innermost thoughts with Tomer in the way that one jokingly talks a foreign language to a child. He spoke as follows:

"You and I, as men, may find it hard to understand what's happening to her. I was hoping that she would go with me to the place where she belongs. Sometimes the pious missionary and the sly pimp use very similar means of enticement. But the resemblance is only superficial. The Jesuits were well aware of the similarity, but they were equally aware of its limits. Only a fool would confuse Jesuits with pimps. It would be better for your father, too, by the way. As you are well aware, my dearest Tomer, the baby will confront your father with a very difficult decision. And I was about to — you see, my friend, a woman is not a man; that's a cardinal principle in life. I have a special feeling for those remarkable creatures. It doesn't matter now. Incidentally, you, too, if you only took the trouble to broaden your experience… But that's beside the point. I knew beforehand that she would kick and struggle. I thought about her father, too. Of course I did. By the way, from a strictly legal point of view… Never mind, that's also beside the point right now. You see, Tomer, my beloved nephew, there has been a recrudescence of pure childhood love, full of compassion for the poor, lonely orphan. Innocence, decency, and progressive education have brought about a sudden relapse. You know what a relapse is, my boy, don't you? No? I'll explain. Actually there's no need. That's not the fly in the ointment. What is? The fly in the ointment is a man by the name of Segal. He appears suddenly like a deus ex machina and earnestly tries to unpick the whole delicate fabric that has been so skillfully woven by your dear, devoted uncle, Zechariah, namely me. Do you know what deus ex machina means? No? Wait, I'll explain. Actually, that's also superfluous. I can use a different sort of illustration. An exposed flank. You know, my dearly beloved friend, what an exposed flank is, do you not? Yes, of course you do. You're a real live officer in our new Jewish army. Of course. I like that look you're giving me, as if I were a madman or a clown. That shows me I'm making you nervous. And that, my boy, gives me a special pleasure, a multiflavored pleasure, each flavor sweeter than honey, a pleasure that you can never taste, because… because of the difference between us, my dearest nephew. Yes. Well. Never mind. That's beside the point. We were talking about Segal. Segal ex machina. I spin my web, he spins his. I break up one match, and the pander makes another — if I may be permitted to use a metaphor taken from real life. And so my hammer has met its anvil, as our national poet Bialik puts it. A war between spiders, or should we say, rather, two fairies clashing over an innocent soul. The good fairy is Segal, and the wicked fairy is your funny uncle, Siegfried, namely me. The good fairy appears ex machina and supposes that I am already lying bound and gagged at his feet. Forgive me for boring you with my chatter; I get very much attached to my cleverness sometimes. But there's one thing Segal doesn't know, namely that his humble opponent has already defeated greater challenges than him. His opponent knows what Herr Herbert cannot grasp, because he lives in a world of make-believe. He knows that the machina itself has been dismantled and is of no further avail. Machina, by the way, comes from a Greek word, from which the word 'machine' was stolen, and the two words mean the same. Still, that's beside the point. Are you still hesitating whom to put your money on? O man of little faith. Put your trust in your loving uncle. He will get the girl. And not by force. Herbert Segal's plans will be frustrated, because he is a man of progressive principles. I shall win her with signs and wonders. But not by force. I hate force, Tomer my angel, because force is blunt, whereas we must be sharper than needles."

Zechariah interrupted the spate of his discourse, lit a cigarette, sniffed the lighter flame for a moment, then blew it out loudly. His face quivered; flaccid folds of flesh hung from his cheekbones. He looked ridiculous. He looked frightened and frightening. Tomer took advantage of the pause to ask perplexedly:

"Herbert Segal? What's Herbert Segal got to do with it?" Siegfried flashed him a grimace that was meant to be a smile and announced pensively:

"Force is something very powerful. An ocean. A universe. A law. Like… Never mind now. Tomer, my own dear son, how would you like to come to Haifa with me tonight? Would you? Come with me, my Tomer, and get a taste of life. I shall gladly bear the burden, and I shall shower you with pleasures. Open your mouth, and I shall fill it with delights. Come, O fairest of men. Come, and let us go together to meet the beloved. How about it?"

Tomer refused.

Tomer was disgusted by his uncle. One fact, however, was gradually dawning on him: Zechariah was planning to leave and to take Noga Harish with him. And that was all to the good. To that end it was worthwhile bearing the troublesome presence of the wandering Jew a little longer. From the whole long speech he drew one conclusion: the old lecher was going to Haifa that evening. If he was going to Haifa, then he wouldn't be there in the evening, and that, Tomer said to himself with a feeling of relief, was on the credit side. There are two sides to every coin.

Can one omit mentioning the model electric railway, worked by remote control? No, certainly not. It was a splendid and fascinating toy, designed as a perfect scale model of the European railways. Zechariah-Siegfried had brought it with him two months previously as a present for his younger nephew, Oren. It seemed as though the donor was no less thrilled with it than the recipient. Oren and his uncle spent hours on end playing with the train. At first, however, the boy had refused to touch the gift. But Zechariah tempted his nephew. He laid the track out on the floor of Ezra and Bronka's room, set up the signals, connected the controls, and played with the train on his own, while Oren stood chewing sweets and watching him with a patronizing smile on his face. Finally, Siegfried tricked the boy. He took off the front wheels of one of the engines and pretended not to be able to put them back. Oren silently picked up the engine and with two skillful movements snapped the wheels into place. His face wore an expression of contempt. Zechariah showered him with compliments and declared that Oren displayed extraordinary technical skill. Oren bent glumly over the control panel and fiddled with the insides with a bored expression on his face. Within five minutes the two of them were racing the trains. The toy responded to their fingers and revealed its hidden possibilities.