with Breine, Esther, and Chaim. And what Josef and I have together seems both ill-defined and important, but he mostly stays apart from everyone but me.
Today, while Josef does his work, I take an apple from the burlap bag and hold it below Feather’s nose. Her mouth is warm and fuzzy in the palm of my hand as she takes the fruit and nudges me for another one.
“Something’s bothering you?” Josef asks.
“No, I’m fine,” I answer.
But I guess I wait a beat too long before answering, because instead of nodding and moving along with the conversation, Josef looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Is there something in particular you wanted to talk about?” There’s trepidation in his voice. He’s worried, I realize, that what’s not fine might have something to do with him.
“I just had an odd conversation with Abek,” I say. “He’s said some things I don’t understand.”
Josef looks both relieved and concerned at the same time. “What kinds of things?”
“He was angry with me because he said I’m dwelling too much on the past. But I wonder if he doesn’t want to talk about the past because he doesn’t remember things—things that I feel he should remember. That are important to my family.”
It wasn’t only the story about the commandant, I realize. On our very first night, he couldn’t complete the gaps in a story I was telling. And then at the wedding, he asked whether Papa had walked Aunt Maja to her chuppah, as if he didn’t remember Maja wasn’t married. I’d assumed it was just the glass of wine, but could it have been something else? Should I have thought it odd that he mixed that up? It, too, is a rudimentary detail about our family.
But then he was only nine when we were separated. How many strong memories did I have of the period before I was nine? Aunt Maja wasn’t the only aunt I had. My father had a sister, too. She moved to London when I was six, married an Englishman, converted to Christianity for him, lost touch. I don’t even know her married last name. But before all that, I have hazy memories of her coming over for dinner. Was she dating the Englishman at the time? Were they already married? Did she come to our house alone? I honestly can’t remember.
“Such as, Zofia?” Josef nudges my foot with his own; I’ve spent a full minute staring into space without continuing my thought. The second apple in my hand is gone, too, and I wasn’t even aware of Feather’s eating it. “You said he didn’t remember things.”
“Some things,” I correct him. “He has specific memories of some things… just not others.”
I don’t know why I’m being so coy, so reticent. When I give Josef my examples now, they come out haltingly, and they sound silly, even as I’m saying them.
“And, a few times, he’s just gotten annoyed with me. Out of the blue, for reasons I don’t really understand. And since I don’t really understand why he’s upset, I don’t know if I should apologize. It’s just… confusing.”
While Josef listens to me, he picks up the tool he’s just finished cleaning, a wooden-handled device with serrated metal teeth. If I’d seen it lying on a table, I would have thought it was a weapon or a torture device, but instead, he moves it gently over Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s flank, loosening burrs and clumps of dirt, following the path of the comb with his hand to make sure he hasn’t missed anything.
“Well?” I ask when I’m finished explaining my concerns. “Does it sound like something I should be worried about?”
He bites his lip, thinking. “I’m not sure you’re listening to yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re worried that Abek doesn’t remember things. But isn’t that one of the first things you told me, the first day we talked? Your memory has holes. You don’t remember things you should. You get confused about what really happened, and you’re not sure what’s real and what’s not. Maybe he’s just a little confused, too. The way you were.”
“Do you think that’s it?”
“I don’t know. Does it sound like it could be right to you? People’s brains don’t work in the same way. Just because his memory lapses don’t look exactly like yours, it doesn’t mean they’re not real.”
Josef’s theory could explain what’s happening with Abek and also why I feel so viscerally concerned by it. Is he like me, a victim of the same memory holes? Do