A. Yehoshua - The Liberated Bride

He caught himself, conscious of having said too much.

“Why now?” The alerted judge regarded her husband from the witness stand.

“It was just a thought.”

“No one ‘just’ thinks anything. What made you say ‘now’?”

“I just did. It doesn’t matter.”

“Everything matters. What were you thinking of? Her father’s death?”

“I suppose. That too.”

“But how is Ofer supposed to know about it?”

“How? That’s obvious. Everything gets known in the end.”

“Tell the truth. Did you tell him?”

“I don’t think so… I mean, I may have mentioned something without meaning to.”

“No one mentions anything without meaning to. Stop being afraid and tell me honestly. It’s not so terrible. Did you tell Ofer that Galya’s father died? Yes or no?”

“I suppose I did.”

“Even though we decided you wouldn’t.”

“You decided. I never agreed with you. Ask my sister. I have a right to my own opinion.”

“Of course you have a right. But you also have an obligation to tell me what you do. I’m your partner. We have to trust each other.”

“So I happened to forget.”

“You didn’t forget. And it didn’t just happen. You hid it from me. Maybe you asked Ofer to hide it, too.”

“I would never do that.”

“Why not? If you were afraid I might know, you could have done anything. Watch it, Yochi. Tell the truth. I can easily call Ofer and ask him. Don’t stoop to making me do that.”

“Who’s stooping?”

“Then tell me what you told him.”

“I suppose I was afraid. I didn’t want to upset you. Maybe it’s time, once and for all, to understand why I have to fear you.”

“You have to fear me? Who needs your fear? You should love me, not fear me. What good is being afraid? If you are, it’s because you’re a coward. And a liar to boot.”

“Don’t talk to me that way. I’m warning you. Watch what you say.”

“But I can’t help it. I’m so mad at you.”

His eyes now accustomed to the dim light, he stared at the wife who was upping the stakes.

“You’ve lost all sense of proportion. What are you making such a big deal of this for?”

“I’ll tell you for what. For the truth. And I want to know it. Stop trying to wriggle out of it and tell me exactly what you meant when you said just now that, after Hendel’s death, something might change with Ofer. What does Ofer have to do with Hendel?”

“Nothing. I just thought that, since he sent her a condolence note, they might be in touch again.”

“Who told you he sent her a condolence note?”

“Nobody told me. Stop cross-examining me. I assume that he sent her a note. It would have been appropriate.”

“You told him to do it!”

“I didn’t tell him anything. And suppose I did? He’d have done what he wanted to, anyway. If he sent her a note, that’s what he felt like doing. It’s his right. He’s not heartless like you.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you what I want. You started this. What have I done to you?”

“Tell the truth. That’s all I’m asking. The whole truth. It’s not as hard as all that.”

“I’m not a defendant in your court.”

“It has nothing to do with my court. I’m your wife. I’m open with you about everything. And you keep things from me like a coward.”

“I don’t understand you. What right do you have to be angry with Ofer for sending Galya a condolence note when you know he’s still neurotically attached to her?”

“Don’t change the subject. It’s not Ofer, it’s you. I’m asking you plainly. What did you say to him, and what do you know, and what are you up to?”

“Who says I have to be up to anything to encourage him to send his ex-wife a condolence note? But I suppose that’s the kind of reasoning I should expect from someone who can’t even fry an egg without burning it.”

“Stick to the point. You went to the hotel, against my advice, to pry, under the pretext of a condolence call.”

“No, I didn’t. I went there with no such thing in mind. If I mentioned the divorce to Galya, that’s only natural. You, if anyone, should know how torn up I was by it. So I happened to mention it, so what? It’s my right.”

“Everything just happens with you. You happened to do this, you happened to do that. But you didn’t happen to do anything. You’re a lot more calculating than you let on. You’re not really naive at all.”

“Why should I be naive?”

“You shouldn’t be. You should be honest. Above all with me. Now tell me what you know. He sent her a letter. Did she answer it?”

“I don’t know. Ask Ofer.”

“I will. But now I’m asking you. Did Galya answer his condolence letter? What do you know?”

“She probably did.”

“What is ‘probably’? What kind of answer is that? Speak the truth, man! Let’s have it. I’m your wife. What are you afraid of? Even if you were foolish enough to try putting them in touch again, which could only cause more pain, that’s not a crime. The crime is not sharing it with the one person who shares everything with you. Please, don’t force me to squeeze the truth out of you bit by bit. You know I can do it. Be honest and open. Tell me what happened. What have you done? What have you said?”

“All right. All right. Just stop threatening me as though I were a traitor or a murderer.”

“You are. You’ve betrayed me. You’ve murdered the trust between us.”

“Don’t exaggerate. The truth is more mundane than you imagine.”

“Then come down from there and talk to me. What are you doing up there anyway? Since when does the defendant sit on the bench?”

14.

HE CAME DOWN from the bench, hurt and sulking. But he was not going back to her office. He refused to have this out on her turf. They would talk right here, in the courtroom. He stopped by the counsels’ table, keeping his distance from her, looking away. Although the dim light seemed well suited to a confession, he wasn’t sure how to work his way into it. Somehow, though, he did, tersely and concisely, even telling her about his second visit to the hotel, although carefully skipping over his imaginary illness.

She listened sternly, pale with anger.

“So you lied to me when you said you went to see the Agnon House.”

“I didn’t lie. I had always wanted to visit it with you. You refused because you were boycotting the neighborhood. So what are you saying — that I have to live with your sick, childish pride forever? And the Agnon House really is closed on Saturdays, which is why I decided to go to the hotel.”

“Don’t which-is-why me. Stop playing games. Nothing which-is-whyed you to go to the hotel. You did it on purpose, behind my back — and, worst of all, behind Ofer’s. I would have thought you had enough self-respect not to beg that girl to tell you what nobody wants you to know, what you have no right to know. It’s unbelievable what a pathetically stubborn man you are.”

“Fine, so I’m stubborn about getting at the truth. I’m willing to make a fool of myself to do it, personally and intellectually. So what? What have I done wrong? Maybe that’s the reason I’ve got as far as I have in life.”

“But we’re not putty in your hands to be twisted and molded for your pathetic investigations. We’re talking about Ofer. He’s your son. You owe him some respect. The minute you want something, you lose all inhibition.”

“Listen. If this is the style you’re going to continue in, we can stop now and go home.”

“First you’ll hear me out.”

“You can talk to the wall, not to me. Leave me out of this. You’ve gone totally berserk. They should never have raised your desk and chair and given you all those buzzers. You’re getting awfully high-and-mighty. Well, not with me! You can be like that with your murderers and rapists. I’ve had it. Just shut up! This is the last time I help you to do anything. I have to be crazy to be wasting my time on you. I want silence from now on! Do you hear me? Silence! Not one word.”