smiling, calling on me to praise the Lady.
I struggled not to enter into that unknown ritual, wanting it all to end as quickly as possible. I tried to concentrate on my main reason for being there that night - to talk to Mikhail, to have him take me to my Zahir - but I found it impossible to remain still. I got up from my chair and just as I was cautiously, shyly, taking my first steps, the music abruptly stopped.
In the room lit only by the candles, all I could hear was the labored breathing of those who had danced. Gradually, the sound faded, the lights were switched back on, and everything seemed to have returned to normal. Glasses were again filled with beer, wine, water, soft drinks; the children started running about and talking loudly, and soon everyone was chatting as if nothing, absolutely nothing, had happened.
"It's nearly time to close the meeting," said the young woman who had lit the candles. "Alma has one final story."
Alma was the woman playing the cymbal. She spoke with the accent of someone who has lived in the East.
"The master had a buffalo. The animal's widespread horns made him think that if he could manage to sit between them, it would be like sitting on a throne. One day, when the animal was distracted, he climbed up between the horns and did just that. The buffalo, however, immediately lumbered to its feet and threw him off. When his wife saw this, she began to cry.
"'Don't cry,' said the master, once he had recovered. 'I may have suffered, but I also realized my dream.'"
People started leaving. I asked my neighbor what he had felt.
"You should know. You write about it in your books."
I didn't know, but I had to pretend that I did.
"Maybe I do know, but I want to be sure."
He looked at me, unconvinced, and clearly began to doubt that I really was the author he thought he knew.
"I was in touch with the energy of the universe," he replied. "God passed through my soul."
And he left, so as not to have to explain what he had said.
In the empty room there were now only the four actors, the two musicians, and myself. The women went off to the ladies' bathroom, presumably to change their clothes. The men took off their white costumes right there in the room and donned their ordinary clothes. They immediately began putting away the candelabra and the musical instruments in two large cases.
The older man, who had played the drum during the ceremony, started counting the money and putting it into six equal piles. I think it was only then that Mikhail noticed my presence.
"I thought I'd see you here."
"And I imagine you know the reason."
"After I've let the divine energy pass through my body, I know the reason for everything. I know the reason for love and for war. I know why a man searches for the woman he loves."
I again felt as if I were walking along a knife edge. If he knew that I was here because of my Zahir, then he also knew that this was a threat to his relationship with Esther.
"May we talk, like two men of honor fighting for something worthwhile?"
Mikhail seemed to hesitate slightly. I went on:
"I know that I'll emerge bruised and battered, like the master who wanted to sit between the buffalo's horns, but I deserve it. I deserve it because of the pain I inflicted, however unconsciously. I don't believe Esther would have left me if I had respected her love."
"You understand nothing," said Mikhail.
These words irritated me. How could a twenty-five-year-old tell an experienced man who had suffered and been tested by life that he understood nothing? I had to control myself, to humble myself, to do whatever was necessary. I could not go on living with ghosts, I could not allow my whole universe to continue being dominated by the Zahir.
"Maybe I really don't understand, but that's precisely why I'm here - in order to understand. To free myself by understanding what happened."
"You understood everything quite clearly, and then suddenly stopped understanding; at least that's what Esther told me. As happens with all husbands, there came a point when you started to treat your wife as if she were just part of the goods and chattel."
I was tempted to say: "Why didn't she tell me that herself? Why didn't she give me a chance to correct my mistakes and not leave me