The Glory: A Novel by Herman Wouk

Author:Herman Wouk [Wouk, Herman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: antique
Published: 2012-03-13T23:13:04+00:00

23

Kissinger

Emily is not at the plane gate, and outside the terminal he does not at first recognize her, in a gray tailored suit with a skirt much longer than the fashion, and her hair pulled back in a flat plain style. But when she smiles, it is Emily, all right. He makes his way to her, and she grips his hand. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this. You’re here.” She kisses him and peers at him with shiny eyes in shadowed hollows, with some new lines at the corners. “Yes, it’s you. After three years. You’re the same, only you’re getting sort of white now, hey kiddo? Very premature, aren’t you still in your forties?”

“Barely, Em.”

“Oh, listen, it looks fine, with your young strong face. Wisdom plus everlasting youth, Israel to the life.”

“Don’t pile it on, Emily, you don’t have to. Seeing you is joy enough.”

She squeezes his hand hard. “Where do I take you? Can we sit down for a cup of coffee? Bud told me you’re coming, by the way. I tried my best to act surprised. He said, ‘No doubt you’ll see him.’ I replied, ‘My God, I hope so.’ He expects to meet with you today.”

“He does? I’d better go straight to the embassy, Queenie.”

“Come along, old Wolf Lightning.”

“How’s your father?”

“Chris is all right.” Her ebullience dims. “He’s very alarmed, though, about what the Russians are up to in this war.”

“I have to see him.”

“Great. Just tell me when.”

She is anxious to know about Noah. Barak’s account of his victories amazes her. “Imagine! That’s all news to me.” She is driving one-handed, fingers linked in his, now and then touching his hand to her cheek. “The media coverage is sure fouled up this time. They’re all confused, they expected you’d beat the Arabs overnight. So did nearly everyone. Not Bud, I must say, and not my father. Chris thinks this war is Armageddon.”

“Well, old Chris tends to take a messianic line about Israel.” Tired as Barak is, and with desperate deep war worries, he feels all the old sweetness in being with this one woman, of all the women in the world besides Nakhama. His body is warm with the delight of it. “But the Messiah didn’t bring the Jews back to the Promised Land, Emily, a few crazy irreligious socialists started it, and what with two world wars and Hitler, the thing came to pass. That’s the mundane view, anyway.”

“If you say so, honey. Just don’t argue with my father about it.”

Pulling up the car at the embassy she asks, “Now then, how do we work this? Don’t burden yourself with me, but my God, any moment we can have together —”

“I’ll call you. Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime, Whitey.”

And so he trudges into the embassy, and back into the war. There are doubled security guards at the entrance, and more bustle than usual in the halls. Where Eshkol’s picture hung in the lobby, there is a solemn Golda portrait. But the main change is in the faces of the hurrying embassy people, many of whom he knows.

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