“Yes.”
“And about having to keep her from getting her hands on money.”
“Yes.”
“And about those screwball meals of hers ... about the big food mill that she bought to grind up everything we ate ... I've told you all that ...”
“Yes, you have.”
“Looking back on it now, I think she must have been trying to transmit some important message to us by means of that nutty food. She was trying to tell us something through all those weird combinations of hers: cookies stuffed with cucumbers and green peppers, sweet giant meatballs, frozen fish heads, green cocktail spreads, bread ground to smithereens ... sometimes it would turn out delicious ... but mostly it was too abominable for words. Once we even found some stew made of dog food on our plates. Father threw up. He became afraid to touch any food. He used to sneak into the kitchen at night to look for bread and cheese.... The refrigerator and the closets were overflowing with her food. It smelled bad, the whole house began to stink. And it attracted animals too. All kinds of strange birds kept landing on the windowsills. Ravens turned up in the middle of the night. There were mice. The dog kept barking his head
off
to drive them away.... And then father began seeing doctors to inquire about hospitalization. Ya'el came with Gaddi, and, since mother was especially fond of him, I suggested that Ya'el leave him with her for a while. At first she was afraid to, but in the end she agreed. In the beginning mother was thrilled. She slept with the baby instead of with father and there were a few days of calm. Father took to spending most of his time away from home and locked himself in his study when he returned at night. And then one night all the keys to all the doors disappeared. Gaddi was still with us. Early the next morning we heard father let out this horrible scream and the dog started howling ... but I really have told you all that ... I'm simply wasting my money by repeating myself...”
“One never simply repeats oneself.”
“I'm not so sure about that...”
“And then you called the police?”
“He passed out and I was sure he was dead. I phoned them and said excuse me, whom do I inform about a murder? I may have been a bit hasty, but I couldn't think straight with all that blood. And they came right away, as though they had been waiting to hear from me, led by some gung-ho sergeant. Father was conscious by then. He kept clutching his chest and groaning, but I think he was enjoying the sight of his own blood too. They took him to the hospital, and the sergeant went into another room with mother. He talked to her for a long time and then took her away. Ya'el came from Haifa and went straight to see the two of them, and Kedmi arrived later to pick up Gaddi. He prowled around the apartment trying to piece together what had happened, but I didn't give him any help; I just went on mopping up the blood stains. Asi came that afternoon, went to the hospital, and took the dog back with him to Jerusalem....So that by the time evening came I was alone in the apartment with this strange, enormous silence. A few curious neighbors knocked on the door, but I didn't open it. The next morning the bell rang. It was father, all bandaged and sulking. They had sent him home, the knife had barely scratched him. It shocked me afterwards to see how he told all his friends about it. Especially since the police dealt with it so discreetly. The sergeant in charge of the case recommended preventive hospitalization....I really don't see why I should be blamed for it ...”
“Who's blaming you?”
“I can feel how you're judging me.”
“I'm not your judge and I never will be. I want to understand with you how your mind worked, what motivated you.”
“What is there to understand? They needed to be separated.”
“I see.”
“I feel that you don't agree with me.”
“Whether or not I agree is irrelevant. We're talking about you.”
“But you said you wanted to identify with me.”
“Just in order to understand you better. Not to decide for you or take your place.”
“They needed to be separated ... to be removed from their common hell...”
“And she's been there ever since?”
“She preferred it that way. Maybe she needed to punish herself. Or maybe she was afraid that she would try it again. And once word got out, there was the public disgrace of it too. She was really quite sick by then.... And when he went abroad, no one knew how long he would stay. The doctors were skeptical about my taking care of her at home by myself. She couldn't stay with Ya'el, because Kedmi didn't want to have anything to do with her then ... she herself preferred it that way ... it's a very decent place, by the sea. Perhaps you're familiar with it. And she's made a lot of friends thereâshe helps take care of a few of the patients herself. We even gave her the dog. At first it was meant to be temporary, but it was a convenient solution for us all and it stuck....Do you think we were wrong? Perhaps we didn't push hard enough for her release. Perhaps we wanted to punish her ourselves. Just the other day I asked her again if she didn't feel it was time to leave.”
“You were there the other day?”
“Yes. On Tuesday.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“You didn't ask.”
“Was it for some special reason?”
“No. Why should it have been? Now and then I go see her by myself ... every few months. I come for a long visit. It depends on how she is, on the weather too. I call her in advance, take the day off, and arrive there in the afternoon. She waits for me by the gate and we go into townâsometimes to the fisherman's wharf in Acre, and sometimes in the other direction, to a café in Nahariyya. I take her to a movie, we eat a meal in a restaurant, and at night I bring her back.”
“But why does she wait for you at the gate? Why don't you go in to get her?”
“I prefer not to. I don't like hospitals. Mental ones especially give me the creeps. Once a few years ago I did go inside and the patients mobbed me. It's hard for me even to be near there ... oh, I know it's ridiculous ... but I sometimes have this fear that they won't let me out again...”
“Who won't?”
“The doctors. It's silly, I know ... but how can I be sure that they won't get some crazy idea? There's a book like that by Thomas Mann,
The Magic Mountain,
in which a young man goes to visit his cousin in a sanatorium and remains there because they discover that he's sick too.... Why run the risk? There can always be some nut there who'll decide that I also ...”
“Did you take her to the movies this Tuesday too?”
“No. We just sat and talked. There wasn't time. I had brought Calderon with me to read the agreement that Kedmi and father drew up. I wanted his opinionâhe has a good, practical financial head. And I told her a little about father, to prepare her for meeting him ... about this new style of his ... this great rejuvenation that's taken place in his life. I said she shouldn't be too quick to sign away her property now that she's getting divorced and that she shouldn't let anyone make up her mind for her. We spoke for a while about their apartment ... about whether it was wise to let a half-ownership in it go live in America ... whether it wasn't a better idea to invest what could be gotten for it in something that would yield a good return. She isn't all that old, after all ... who knows what life still has in store for her. And she's terribly naive, she has no idea that uninvested money simply melts away nowadays ... she lives in an old-fashioned world...”
“And what did she say to all that?”
“She listened. My friend Calderon outlined a few possibilities to her. The main thing I wanted was to prepare her ... to make her realize that she was in a position of strength ... to keep her from suddenly feeling sorry for him ... to give her some existential confidence before her eternal parting ...”
“From whom?”
“Excuse me?”
“Her eternal parting from whom?”
“From whom?”
“Before her eternal parting from whom?”
“I don't get you.”
“You said you wanted to give her confidence before her eternal parting ... did you mean from your father?”
“What?”
“Your mind is somewhere else.”
“What? What did you say?”
“I said your mind is somewhere else.”
“It's the strangest thing ... I suddenly remembered ... you see, that English teacher ... that Mr. Foxy who walked into my dream ... listen, it's incredible ... a really fantastic thing ... how could I have forgotten ... he just died ... his name ... how could I have forgotten ... it's all come back to me now ... it's amazing...”
“When did he die?”
“Just a few weeks ago. Now it comes back to me ... I noticed a death announcement that the school had placed in the newspaper. He died a short while ago, and I didn't remember! So that's why he was in the dream ... I raised him from the dead without knowing it ... I'm literally shaking...”
“I suggest that we stop here.”
“Excuse me?”
“We'll stop here and continue next time.”
“Oh, our hour is over. I see ... all right then, next week...”
“We won't be meeting next week. We'll meet again in two weeks' time. Next week I'll be on vacation.”
“You can't see me next week?”
“No. But we'll meet two weeks from now at the usual time.”
“But who told you to take a vacation ... I mean...''
“Next week is the Passover holiday.”
“You don't work on Passover? Don't tell me you're religious...”
“No. I'm just taking a vacation.”
“But you'll be in Tel Aviv?''
“I don't know yet.”
“Can't you fit me in somewhere? Even at a different hour ... on a different day ... it doesn't matter ...”
“I'm afraid it won't be possible.”
“I mean any time that you want ... any day ... I'll manage to make it ...”
“We'll meet again in two weeks.”
“I see. Just a minute, I wanted to pay you...”
“There's no hurry about it. Next time.”
“But I have the money with me now. I owe you...”
“Next time. It can wait.”
“Excuse me ... just one more thing...”
“Yes?”
“If I want to talk to you next week, just to say a few words, can I phone?”
“I don't think the telephone would be very convenient. Let's wait till we meet again. It won't be long.”
“I just ... I don't know, but ... I feel that something is going to happen next week. Maybe I'll want to tell you about it ... doesn't it surprise you that I totally forgot that that teacher had died?...''
“We'll talk about that too, of course.”
“In a way I feel I've become closer to you today ... I like you more. I didn't want to tell you, but at first you were very off-putting. I mean physically ... your being so short and heavy ... and those muttonchop sideburns of yours ... why do you let them grow? The style is much shorter these days...”
“We can talk about that next time too. Right now I suggest that...''
“Yes. I understand. Suddenly I see you in a new light. You really do want to lead me somewhere ... there's a method to it all ... a direction ... you aren't so passive...”
“Yes. Today you started to work in earnest. But seriously...”
“You felt it too?”
“Yes. But now isn't the time for this. We'll talk about it next time.”
“I'm sorry we can't continue now. I just wanted to ask you...”
“Perhaps...”
“... just one more thing that's been bothering me. Is insanity genetic? Will I go crazy like her? What do you know about that?”
“We'll talk about it all next time. Here, don't forget your scarf.''
“I get it ... I wanted to leave you something in order to have a reason to come back ... all right then, I'll be on my way. Just one last question: do you really believe that every single detail has significance ... that there is no such thing as random, meaningless events ... just the chaotic surge of life...?”
“No, Tsvi. Really. Not now.”
“Just one sentence from you. Please.”
“In a sense, there's always a matrix to which the accidents attach themselves.... But I promise you that we'll talk about it next time. We still have a long way to go.”
“I can't wait. Today was fascinating. What should we start with next time? What would you like me to think about? You must be planning it already ... no doubt that dead teacher. Although maybe we should go back to the beginning of the dream ... to that thicket of bushes.... and the watering hose. You know, you're right. One must never give up...''
“We can start with whatever you'd like. Let's leave it open. Whatever is on your mind. Even that dog...”
“The dog?”
“Why not? He's part of the story too. But really now, goodbye. If you don't mind leaving this way ...”
“Someone is behind the door there ... so I'm not the last, after all...”
“Goodbye, Tsvi. Have a good holiday ...”
“Refa'el, is that you? What are you doing here? I told you to wait for me downstairs.”
“Doctor?”
“Excuse me, please.”
“Refa'el, not now.”
“I wanted to know if you could take me on too. Did you ask him, Tsvi?”
“Not now, Refa'el ... not now ... you have to get out of here...”
“Please, this really is not the time for it. But you can get in touch with me next month. Tsvi will give you my phone number.”
“Thank you so much ... it's been my pleasure ... happy Passover ... I'll wait for you below ... begging your pardon...”
“You see, I told you. But here I am clinging to you the same way ... it really isn't like me. I'm so sorry ... I'll go now. How did he put it last night? The boundaries are gone ... but I'd really better go. Thank you. Thank you so much. And I'll be seeing you soon...”