on the phone at seventeen, nineteen, twenty-two, long hours of pouring their souls out to each other. That was back when he still had a soul, Ilan comments from afar.
A quiet rustle passes through the line, interferences of time and memory. Her finger traces the curved pattern in the rug. Someone should research that one day, she thinks sourly: Why does running your finger over a woolly rug bring back memories and longings? She still cannot remove her wedding ring and may never be able to. The metal clings to her flesh and refuses to leave. And if it came off easily, would you? Her lips sag. Where is he now—Ecuador? Peru? He might be hiking with Adam among the turtles on the Galápagos, unaware that there’s practically a war here. That she had to take Ofer on her own today.
“Ora,” Avram says strenuously, as if hoisting himself out of a well, “I can’t be alone now.”
She stands up quickly. “Do you want me to … Wait, what do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
Her head is spinning and she leans against the wall. “Is there someone who can come and be with you?”
Long seconds go by. “No. Not now.”
“Don’t you have a friend, some guy from work?” Or some woman, she thinks. That girl he had once, the young one, what about her?
“I haven’t been working for two months.”
“What happened?”
“They’re renovating the restaurant. Gave us all a vacation.”
“Restaurant? You work at a restaurant? What about the pub?”
“What pub?”
“Where you worked …”
“Oh, that. I haven’t been there for two years. They fired me.”
I didn’t tell him anything either, she thinks. About my dismissals, from work and from the family.
“I don’t have the strength, I’m telling you. My strength lasted just until today.”
“Listen,” she says quietly, calculatedly, “I was planning to go up north tomorrow, so I could stop by your place for a few minutes …”
His breath turns rapid again, wheezing, but he doesn’t rebuff her immediately. She stands at the window with her forehead touching the glass. The street looks ordinary. No unfamiliar vehicles. The neighbors’ dogs aren’t barking.
“Ora, I didn’t understand what you said.”
“Never mind, it was a silly idea.” She pulls herself away from the window.
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes?” she answers in confusion.
“That’s what you said, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“But when?”
“Whenever you say. Tomorrow. Now. Preferably now. To tell you the truth, I’m a little afraid to be here on my own.”
“So you were thinking of coming?”
“Just for a few minutes. I’m on my way anyway—”
“But don’t expect anything. It’s a dump.”
She swallows, and her heart starts racing. “I’m not scared.”
“I live in a dump.”
“I don’t care.”
“Or maybe we could go out and walk around a little. What do you think?”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’ll wait for you downstairs, and we’ll walk around a bit, okay?”
“On the street?”
“There’s this pub down the road.”
“I’ll come and then we’ll decide.”
“Do you know my address?”
“Yes.”
“But I have nothing to give you. The place is empty.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“I’ve been on my own for almost a month.”
“You have?”
“And I think the store’s closed.”
“I don’t need food.” As she talks she darts around the apartment, punted from one wall to the next. She has to organize, finish packing, leave notes. She’ll go. She’ll flee. And she’ll take him with her.
“We can … there’s a kiosk around here—”
“Avram, I couldn’t eat a crumb. I just want to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“And then you’ll go back home?”
“Yes. No. Maybe I’ll go on to the Galilee.”
“The Galilee?”
“Never mind that now.”
“How long will it take you?”
“To get there or to get out of there?”
No response. Perhaps he didn’t get her little joke.
“It’ll take me about an hour to close up everything here and get to Tel Aviv.” A cab! she remembers and her heart sinks. I need a cab again. And how exactly was I planning to get to the Galilee? She shuts her eyes hard. A distant headache is signaling, probing. Ilan was right. With her, five-year plans last at most five seconds.
“It’s a dump here, I’m telling you.”
“I’m coming.”
She hangs up before he can change his mind and proceeds to charge around in a frenzy. She writes a note for Ofer, sitting down at first, but soon finds herself standing up, hunched over. She explains to him again what she herself has trouble understanding and asks him to forgive her, and promises again that they’ll go hiking together when he finishes and asks him to please not go looking for her, she’ll be back in a month, mother’s word.