Enemies, A Love Story by Bashevis Singer Isaac

Author:Bashevis Singer, Isaac
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Goodreads Press
Published: 2021-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

3

Herman had fallen into a deep sleep, out of which someone was waking him. He opened his eyes in the dark and didn’t know where he was. Yadwiga? Masha? “Have I gone off with another woman?” he wondered. But his confusion lasted only a few seconds. Of course it was Tamara. “What is it?” he asked.

“I want you to know the truth.” Tamara spoke with the trembling voice of a woman barely holding back her tears.

“What truth?”

“The truth is that I had no one—not three men, not one, not even half a man. No one so much as touched me with his little finger. That is God’s truth.”

Tamara was sitting up, and in the dark he sensed her intensity, her determination not to let him go to sleep again until he heard her out.

“You’re lying,” he said.

“I’m not lying. I told you the truth the very first time when you asked me. But you seemed disappointed. What’s wrong with you—are you perverse?”

“I’m not perverse.”

“I’m sorry, Herman, I’m as pure as the day you married me. I say I’m sorry because, if I had known that you would feel so cheated, I might have tried to accommodate you. There was certainly no lack of men who wanted me.”

“Since you talk out of both sides of your mouth so easily, I’ll never be able to believe you again.”

“Well, then, don’t believe me. I told you the truth when we met in my uncle’s house. Perhaps you’d like me to describe some imaginary lovers just to satisfy you. Unfortunately, my imagination isn’t good enough. Herman, you know how sacred the memory of our children is to me. I would sooner cut out my tongue than desecrate their memories. I swear by Yocheved and David that no other man has touched me. Don’t think it was such an easy thing to accomplish. We slept on floors, in barns. Women gave themselves to men they hardly knew. But when someone tried to get close to me, I pushed him away. I always saw the faces of our children before me. I swear by God, by our children, by the blessed souls of my parents, that no man so much as kissed me all those years! If you don’t believe me now, then I beg you to leave me alone. God himself couldn’t force a stronger vow from me.”

“I believe you.”

“I told you—it could have happened, but something didn’t allow it. What it was I don’t know. Though reason told me that there wasn’t a trace left of your bones, I felt that you existed somewhere. How can one understand it?”

“It isn’t necessary to understand it.”

“Herman, there is something else I want to say to you.”

“What?”

“I beg you, don’t interrupt me. Before I came here, the American doctor at the consulate examined me and told me that I was in perfect health. I had survived everything—the hunger, the epidemics. I worked hard in Russia. I sawed logs, dug ditches, dragged wheelbarrows filled with rocks. At night, instead of sleeping, I often had to tend the sick who lay near me on planks.

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