Amos Oz - Elsewhere, Perhaps

Grisha Isarov and Mendel Morag exchanged a hurried glance. Grisha laid his hand on Ezra's arm and said gently:

"Play. It's your turn."

Ezra stared glassily, slowly passed his hand close to his forehead, and finally muttered:

"What? What? Yes. That's right. Of course. Quite right. It's my turn. Yes."

Meanwhile, Siegfried had disappeared. The scene calmed down. Tranquillity reigned once more.

Bronka decided to speak frankly to Zechariah. That evening she went to his room. (He had been given a room in one of the huts on the edge of the kibbutz, though not before he had pressed another check on Yitzhak Friedrich to cover his board and lodging and any inconvenience he might have caused, as he put it.)

Zechariah received his sister-in-law reclining on a camp bed, wearing a nylon vest. His lean, powerful body gleamed with perspiration, because it was very hot inside the hut. It was Bronka's first visit to the room. Ezra, on the other hand, had been there a few times, to play dominoes and engage in general philosophical conversation. And at other times Oren had spent an hour or two here for some purpose or other.

Zechariah said:

"What a pleasant surprise. Please sit down. I'm sorry I can't receive you as befits your dignity. I've nothing to offer you except some dry biscuits and German magazines."

Bronka, ignoring his invitation, did not sit down on the bed. (There was no chair in the tumble-down hut.) Her face was grim and determined. She stood to attention by the door, her feet together and her arms held stiffly at her sides.

"I've come to say that your behavior today was the last straw."

Zechariah nodded sympathetically. There was a gleam of understanding and concern in his eyes. To increase Bronka's embarrassment, he made no reply beyond his sympathetic nod.

"I'm talking about the scene you made on the lawn this afternoon."

Zechariah nodded agreement once again, as though waiting for her to continue, as if so far she had said nothing to explain her surprising visit. Bronka's confidence was somewhat shaken by his silence. She hesitated. She frantically hunted for something she could say that would draw him out of his silence.

"It was… it was absolutely impossible."

Siegfried's face suddenly lost its expression of tolerant sympathy and a crooked, gloating smile appeared in its place.

"Well." He spat the monosyllable out harshly.

"I insist that you explain to me frankly and openly what you are here for."

Instantly, Zechariah's expression changed as though one dramatic mask had been magically substituted for another. Astonishment spread over his features. His voice when he spoke was that of a man who has been viciously insulted.

"But Bro-nka… Coff im Himmel, what an extraordinary question. Ex-traor-dinary… You know I've come here to be with my beloved family. What else have I got in the whole wide world? I'm a lonely old man, Bronka. I've come in out of the cold to warm myself at your hearth. But of course if I'm in the way… No question about it, at once, tomorrow morning, tonight even. No question about it. At once."

As he spoke, he sprang to his feet as if he had made up his mind to pack his bags immediately.

Bronka apologized. Perish the thought. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. He wasn't causing any inconvenience. On the contrary, they were glad to have him. Hadn't they said so often? All she had wanted to do was to ask him one specific question, about his… his rather peculiar relations with Noga Harish.

"Ah, so that's all you came about," said Zechariah, and he sighed an enormous sigh of relief, as if it were only now, at last, that Bronka's true purpose had been revealed and as if the discovery had taken a great weight off his mind.

"This afternoon… on the lawn… You… I mean, I'd like to know just what your intentions are toward her. You understand, forgive me, I'm asking you as… as your hostess, if you prefer to see it in that light."

"But of course, Bronka, of course, there's no question about it, of course I owe you an explanation. The explanation is very simple, my dear Bronka. I've got nothing to hide from you. Far from it. So let's talk about it. Let's speak up quite frankly. Agreed?"

"Yes, quite frankly," Bronka echoed, without questioning the reciprocal frankness that Zechariah demanded. What secrets could he ask her to reveal in exchange?

"Agreed," she added.

"Fine," said Zechariah, leaning back against the wall as if in preparation to deliver a long lecture. "Well then. Item one. In the course of my work in the Diaspora I happened to meet a wonderful woman, the wife of an old friend of mine. I refer, of course, to Eva Hamburger. She requested me to take advantage of my visit to my family in Israel to make the acquaintance of her daughter, who, as it happens, lives in the same kibbutz as my own relations, and to give her her mother's love. At the same time, I was requested to inform the mother reliably about the girl's condition. I complied with the request, met the daughter, and wrote to the mother informing her of her unfortunate condition. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Bronka shook her head mechanically.

"Item two. By return mail the mother asked me to convey to her daughter her feelings of apprehension, of guilt, and of remorse. This mission, too, I fulfilled to the very best of my limited ability. I was also requested to tell the girl that her mother earnestly entreated her to come back with me to live with her mother and her stepfather, Herr Isaac Hamburger. They were eagerly looking forward to seeing her They were both convinced that in view of her predicament a change of environment and way of life would be good for the girl. That, moreover, both from a social and from a financial point of view the proposed arrangement was preferable to her present circumstances, which could be described without exaggeration as intolerable. True? You see, my dear Bronka, I am revealing all my secrets to you frankly and openly, and I expect you to repay me in kind."

Bronka recovered from the barrage of words and asked sternly:

"But what need is there for a go-between? Perhaps you can explain that to me. Why can't Eva write to Noga directly? And why was it necessary to ignore Reuven Harish and get at his daughter behind his back? After all, isn't he her father, and doesn't decency demand that he be consulted about such a decision?"

Zechariah smiled happily, as if Bronka's questions were meant to help him make his point more clearly.

"You have asked three important questions, Bronka my dear, and all three of them go straight to the heart of the matter. First of all, the go-between. As you well know, the human mind is a complicated thing. Not at all simple. Our Eva is smitten by feelings of guilt and remorse, as I believe I have already stated quite frankly. She is afraid that her daughter reproaches her for abandoning her. It is only natural that she should take advantage of the visit of her old friend, in whose tact and experience she places generous — perhaps overgenerous — confidence. As for the girl's father," Siegfried said, instantly wiping the smile off his face, "he belongs to the next item."

"Go on. I'm listening."

"I shall now have to take advantage of the agreement we made to speak perfectly frankly, as I have something to say that may not be very pleasant. Noga's father complicated his life with… how shall we put it?…with a late-flowering love affair with a married woman. Everyone is entitled to complicate his own life as much as he pleases. But this selfish man also complicated the lives of his children. And his children are Eva's children, too. True, Eva was not faithful to him, either. But she left her home, went into voluntary exile, and sacrificed the joy of living with her children, all to protect the children and avoid damaging their impressionable minds. The same cannot be said of the father. Both he and the woman who deceived her husband to gratify their mutual lust, both of them ignored their children. They indulged the desires of their flesh, and neglected their children, who are their real flesh and blood. We consider — both the Hamburgers and yours truly — that this was an appalling crime. And the main victim was the adolescent girl, who in her desperation ruined her own life almost beyond repair. Eva, her present husband and their closest friend all believe — although with sorrow and pain in thei'r hearts — that the father has lost all moral and legal right to decide his daughter's fate. If the father had not done what he did, the daughter would not have been driven to the course she took. The proof is easy enough, because the man whom the girl used as a means of ruining her life is closely related to her father's mistress. Forgive me, Bronka, for setting the facts so plainly before you."