Love Life: A Novel by Zeruya Shalev

Author:Zeruya Shalev [Shalev, Zeruya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2007-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The night was different from what I had imagined, from what it had looked like in bed, less dark, less bitter, the end of winter was already in the air and I thought, where will I be in the spring, where will I be in the summer, dragging the suitcase swollen with bras and garters, stockings and panties down the loathsome road. A number of taxis stopped next to me but I preferred to walk, sweating in spite of the cold, I didn’t want to get into any conversations now, only to advance slowly, to pass the shops and traffic lights in a kind of private victory procession, to nod gravely at the parade saluting me, but I kept looking behind my back to see if I was being pursued, and it seemed to me that I could hear him whisper, Moley, come back to me, come back. Why was he whispering if he wanted me to hear him, why didn’t he shout, a whisper that grew weaker and weaker, until I had to stop and bend down in order to hear it rising from the depths of the earth, like the whispers of the survivors of an avalanche, who by the time the rescue teams reach them are already dead.

I sat down on the narrow pavement, a fist of sorrow doubling me up, and I thought that it wasn’t too late, I could still go back, he was probably asleep, I could go back quickly and get undressed and get into bed as if I had never gone out, Aryeh had probably forgotten that he ever invited me, and I looked around, searching for a sign, and I remembered the star resembling a sword that shone over Jerusalem for a whole year before the destruction of the Temple, never moving from its place in winter or summer and even in daylight it could be seen shining in the sky, but I stood up immediately, kicked violently forward, I couldn’t forgo this chance, and I stopped in front of his door, panting for breath and listening to the sounds around me. From the opposite apartment rose the loud, demanding cry of the baby I had volunteered to mind, but the Even apartment was quiet, and I knocked gently, almost caressing the door that was so familiar to me, more so than his face which appeared in the doorway, heavy and serious, and he quickly locked the door behind me and led me into the bedroom, which had changed beyond recognition. All the medical equipment had disappeared, and the beds had been pushed together and covered with a floral bedspread and big, soft cushions, with night tables holding round reading lamps on either side, and on his side I saw an ashtray full of dead cigarettes and a glass full of liquor, while the night table on the other side had nothing on it, as if it were only waiting for my face creams. How had he managed, only yesterday

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