Ben came close to her and laid a hand on her exposed shoulder. “Are you real?”
She smiled her famous smile and hooked her arms behind her back, accentuating the full curve of her hips and her impeccable posture, wearing the blue velvet dress he loved most.
“Where did you get the dress from?” Ben wondered.
“From the closet.” The most famous voice in the world squeezed his heart like the last notes of a melody.
“Where’s the closet?”
“In the bedroom, silly,” she giggled warmly, twisting the skin on his elbow between her two fingers as she always did whenever he asked a stupid question.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
“At home.”
“In the house in Tel Aviv?”
“Do you know any other?”
“And when did you stop in there?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know. It’s so far away and there’s no way you’ve been hanging out here for the past fifteen months in a blue velvet dress when everyone knows that this is a clothes-free zone.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“Benji, there’s no one here but us. And what’s this nonsense about no clothes? What are your jeans made out of, air?”
Ben stared at the well-worn denim longingly. “But where did everyone go?”
“Where did you go?”
“I didn’t go anywhere. You’re the one who left.”
“But here I am. Right here. In front of you. At an arm’s length.”
“So, why can’t I touch you? And why is this meeting so cold? Marian, it’s not supposed to be like this.”
“Benji, honey, what do you want from me? You make the rules, you can break them, too. For some reason you decided that I’d be icy and unapproachable, and that doesn’t leave me a lot of options. Maybe you should turn up the temperature of this meeting.”
“I can’t. I’m stuck on tepid.”
“Then for now we’ll have to work with tepid.”
“Marian, I didn’t come all this way to do tepid.”
“So do something about it.”
“What can I do? And what are we doing in this alley anyway?”
“Do you want to go home?”
“To Tel Aviv?”
“Or to Saint Madera Sanctus.”
“What’s that?”
“A small ruined monastery north of Lisbon.”
“Why there of all places?”
“I don’t know…”
“But before you said we only had one home.”
“We do have only one home.”
“So why would we go to the ruins of a monastery north of Lisbon?”
“You like those kinds of places.”
“Marian, what is this? What’s the meaning of this conversation? Why can’t I get through to you?”
“Maybe it has to do with that thing.…”
“What thing?”
“With the aliases’ funny little toy. I have one of those, too.”
“An alias?”
“No, a godget. But you’re far braver than I am.”
“I’m not brave at all.”
“You’re right. You’re a coward. First the gun, then the button, and now we have a problem.”
“I pressed the button?”
“You were never very good at dealing. Instead of finding someone else, you went off and committed suicide.…”
“In order to be with you, Marian. I can’t believe that it’s hard for you to understand that I shot myself in order to be with you.”
“Then why didn’t you listen to the old man?”
“I didn’t?”
“He warned you and you still opted for seven over three and now you’ll never be with me.”
“But that’s impossible. You’re here.”
“Only because you called me. You remember what the Chinese man said?”
“The Chinese…?”
“She’s here but she’s there, and it’s hard to say in which world. So, are you satisfied now?”
“Wait, but what does that mean? Marian, what does that mean? You’re part of my world. Where are you going? You can’t leave.…”
“I’m not going.” She drifted out of the alley, leaving a smiling Marian in a velvet blue dress in her place.
Ben looked agape at the human inheritance opposite him, the painfully familiar compound of tissue, tendons, and skin devoid of the soul that filled it with essence, and extended a hand to the statuesque nape of her neck. In his fury, wishing to wring the smooth neck that only masqueraded as the one belonging to his love, he noticed her lips move without voice. He strained to decipher her words: “Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.”
Animated as a child, he called out, “I know where that’s from, Marian.
Julius Caesar
!
Julius Caesar
!”
The duplicated Marian smiled at him, as if confirming that he had passed the test, brought her lips to his ear, and whispered, “Next time be careful when your finger touches the button. Now get up and do what you must.”
Ben woke from his unexpected nap more vivacious than he had been in months, knowing that he had been blessed with a second chance. He bounded out of the alley and onto the city’s main streets, passing three foul-tempered witches, three troubled kings, six Rosencrantzes and Guildensterns, five savvy merchants, and a complex prince putting on a juggling show with three skulls, before he recognized the big sign at the end of a side street, advertising the establishment beneath it, in moving neon letters, as the place for spirits and socializing. Aside from the amusing sign and the upbeat music, which even from afar was obviously high-quality digital, the wooden tavern with the rotting thatch roof and the knobby door made clear that time had stood still here for hundreds of years.
The first thought that crossed his mind when he walked inside was that if the clock stopped at a certain time, then it must have been at happy hour. The splendid display of inebriation included off-key ballads accompanied by hiccups and belches and other sounds emitted from who knows where, giddy sliding competitions through a soupy puddle of ale, friendly wrestling matches that got out of hand, and several couples who failed the test of self restraint and carried out their affairs for all to see. Apprehensively, he sought out his grandparents, and between declining an offer from a drunk woman who was rude in body and soul and dodging the upper half of a bottle flying over his head, he weaved his way to a single table, alongside which, radiant as ever, sat his straight-backed grandmother, immersed in unpleasant thoughts, judging by the deterring gravity on her face as she sipped methodically from the archaic glass of wine.
Ben didn’t wait for an invitation, coming toward her with his arms spread wide. “Grandma Rosie! Grandma Rosie!”
The old woman turned her veiled look toward him, smiled warmly, rose from the rotted wooden bench, and embraced him. “Oh my dear, you’ve been so sorely missed. We’ve been pining for you…”
She planted a fragrant kiss on his cheek and then scrutinized him at length. “Let me look at you. God, Nosey wasn’t exaggerating at all, you’ve really developed quite the physique over the years.…”
“You haven’t done too bad either. You’re as beautiful as ever. Tell me, how’s your journey going? You must be enjoying every second of it.…”
She sat down and clasped his arm with surprising force. “Absolutely, honey, one of the most fascinating adventures we’ve ever had. Your perspective changes entirely and you learn more about family genetics than all the books about Mendel and his pea plants combined. Did you know, for instance, that your grandfather and his grandfather are identical as two drops of water? Not to mention your great-great-grandfather’s mother. Totally nuts. Buried three husbands before getting pregnant. Two of them are still in love with her and prefer to ignore her fondness for poison. And now this incredible city. What timing we had, it’s just unbelievable. But I’m sure you already noticed that.”
“You mean the actors swarming all over this place?” All of a sudden he froze and mumbled, “How did I miss that? I’ve been so wrapped in nonsense that I didn’t put two and two together … it’s 1616 … and the city’s alive with actors … on the multi an actor told me everyone was headed to the most important audition in history … He lives here, right? I mean he died in … and he must have written something new, otherwise I wouldn’t be witnessing all of this Shakespearemania.” He bit his finger in thought.
“What are you thinking about, Benji?” She caressed his hand. “Why do you look so disturbed?”
“I just had a thought. You know who was crazy about him, and Nosey told me you had some information about her.”
“Let’s leave this revolting bacchanalia and go talk somewhere else,” she ordered. She got up quickly, stomping across the squawking room and slamming the door on the way out.
Ben caught up with her, a concerned look on his face. “Grandma, what’s wrong? Why are you…?
She shook her head from side to side, sighed for a long while, hooked her arm through his, and commanded in a whisper, “Come!”
Ben complied silently and, to his surprise, he found that she was leading him back to the alley that he’d left a little over an hour ago. “Grandma, what are we doing here?”
“This is one of the few quiet spots in this entire city. Here we can talk in peace.”
Ben nodded and the two walked in silence until they reached the two familiar walls. “Well?” he spurred her. “What did you find? What kind of news did you come across?”
Rosie looked up and caressed his questioning face. “Ben, I just want you to always remember that you’re a lucky man. I haven’t known many people who have shared such love with someone else.”
“I know, Grandma. And in all honesty this preface doesn’t bode well, does it? Don’t answer me. I know the answer to that, too.”
“What do you know?” she asked, her forehead folded in suspicion.
“I know Marian’s not here.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the Announcer call her name while I was on the express, and that, along with a few other reasons that I shouldn’t go into now, paint a pretty full picture, so don’t worry about telling me whatever you came across. I didn’t for a second believe that I’d find her in this city, despite the unavoidable conclusion—Shakespeare … Marian…”
“Yes,” Rosie smiled mournfully, “you’re right.” Several seconds later a bitter smile flitted across her face and she mumbled tartly, “The unavoidable conclusion, I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“Grandma, what are you talking about?”
She accosted him in a loud voice, “Why did you wait, Ben? Why did you have to wait so long?”
The stunned grandchild remained speechless for several minutes. “Grandma, why are you asking me this kind of question? By now it’s clear that you were mistaken when you told Nosey that you had information about her. She just died tonight. I have no idea what happened, but…”
“Ben, Ben, you have no idea what you’re talking about … you don’t know…” Her voice cracked.
“So then maybe tell me what you’re talking about? I came all the way here for a scrap of information about my wife and now you’re playing home theater with me. What did you find out? Tell me so that I can carry on.”
“Okay,” she said, looking him in the eye. “Just remember it was your grandfather’s idea. We deliberated for a long time about whether to tell you and in the end he threw his weight down hard on the side of divulging. He said you’d never forgive us if you found out some other way.”
She exhaled long and slow and placed her tender hand on his head, her delicate fingers massaging his scalp. “It’s not so simple, my dear, not in the slightest. We’re very much alike, Benji, much more so than most people think. Both of us took the reins into our own hands, only one of us managed to stop the carriage while the other lost control. Through no fault of his own. Through no one’s fault…”
“Grandma, would you please lay the metaphors aside for a second and tell me why you were thinking of not telling me whatever it is you know? Or is that answer self-evident? You wanted to shield me from the pain of knowing?”
“We weren’t sure what was preferable, to hide the truth and leave your hope intact or…”
“She’s with someone else. She’s in love with someone else?” he guessed in a frosted voice.
“Don’t be ridiculous, honey,” she laughed hoarsely, “she’s not with anyone else. Not at all. Except for the mother.”
“The mother? You mean her biological mother? They met?” His eyes showed reinvigorated hope.
“Yes. We bumped into her by accident. Day before yesterday.”
“You saw Marian?” Ben screeched.
“No, no, not Marian. Her mother. Not far from the theater where they’re doing the auditions. We were curious to see why so many people were milling around the entrance, and we spoke with a few of them. She walked by with some shopping bags, apparently on the way back from the grocery store, and just as we turned to leave, she walked toward us, and within a few seconds it was clear we had piqued her interest. She froze, stared at us, and once she recomposed herself she came over and said she knew who we were. She recognized us from the tapes, Marian’s tapes. She literally begged us for information about you. Said if we know anything we should make contact, even if it’s years down the road. We said that actually we did have information and that you were here, in the Other World. At first she had trouble believing it, but then she broke down crying and begged us to tell you that she had to see you. She must have repeated the sentence five times: ‘Tell him I have to see him.’ We promised we’d tell you as soon as possible, and Moses asked if we could go see Marian. She said she didn’t think it was a good idea, and then she told us where she was.”
“Grandma, where’s Marian? Where the hell is she?”
“I’m sorry, Ben. I think it’s best that you hear it from her, the mother. She knows exactly what happened, she’s involved in this more than anyone else, and she’s waiting for you. She specifically asked us not to tell you a thing about Marian’s whereabouts before you come and speak to her, and we think she’s right on insisting on that.”
“Listen to what your grandmother says, she’s a smart woman,” a warm voice proclaimed behind him. Ben turned around and disappeared between the lanky arms of his grandfather. “Sorry I got held up, Benji, I had to say good-bye to a few people before we hit the road again.”
Ben buried his face in his grandfather’s shoulder and was willing to die in that consoling stance, without any future complications, the forthcoming sorrow, the responsibility inherent in loving a person by choice. He’d never before seen his grandmother writhe like that through the thickets of her emotions, picking her words with care, fishing with unusual fastidiousness for the most tactful terms, clarifying with every painstaking phrase that the worst was yet to come. Never before had he heard his grandfather so silent, as though he’d purposely come late as a pretence for an apology, something small, laconically delivered, after which he could fall silent and exchange desolate glances with his knowing wife. Never before had he witnessed such a frightful show of compassion from the two old cynics, who refrained from seasoning their meeting with their grandson with the usual jokes, a comic interlude of some sort, even an awful one, that would undermine the weightiness of the moment with some much-needed gall.