Two Tales: Betrothed & Edo and Enam Read online

  We have intimated that Rechnitz was a modest young man and no woman-hunter; still, man is a social being and he may feel more affection for a group of charming girls than for the rest of the world. Sometimes his hidden thoughts may drive him beyond all reason; were he to consider them dispassionately he would be appalled. With the Consul’s arrival reason resumed its proper place for Rechnitz, but at the cost of his tranquility, which was only restored when he returned to his work. Were one to ask how it was possible for Rechnitz not to grieve at Shoshanah’s distress, the answer would be this: many factors for which language, however precise, has no name were operating to silence such thoughts.

  So Rechnitz sat in his room, at peace with himself and free from all distraction, for he had come to accept the fact of Shoshanah’s sickness and distress. The good gods had favored Rechnitz, granting him peace and calm, together with joy in his work. But these favors were not to last long. The gods are envious, and when they see us prosper too much, they send their agents to change our lives. Every man learns this for himself; let those who have not yet done so now witness the case of Rechnitz. Enough, then, of the beauty of this night and the benefits of a tranquil mind; let us tell instead how Rechnitz lost his tranquility.

  As Rechnitz sat alone, he heard the sound of a light tap at the door; after the tap, the door opened and Tamara entered. Entered and stood still. Never before had she called upon Rechnitz; never, perhaps, had she been inside a young man’s lodgings. One could tell this from her whole stance and from the dim glow that hung like a mist over her features.

  Tamara paused on the threshold, waiting to be asked in. Her lips trembled like petals touched with morning dew. Rechnitz did not take her into his arms but he took her by the hands and seated her on the couch. Tamara was a girl of some humility. Never had she dared to think that people took notice of her, certainly not a great scholar like Dr. Rechnitz. No, the only reason for her coming was that she was planning to go abroad, and since he was also leaving, she had gathered up courage and come to visit him.

  Tamara had been graduated from the Jaffa high school and was preparing to go to Europe, where she intended to study medicine, an interest she had inherited from her father the doctor. Meanwhile, she had taken up sculpture and clay modeling and now she was finding it hard to decide where her true inclination lay. The body contained so many secrets and her fingers were itching to create shapes; sometimes she dreamed of figures of flesh and blood, sometimes of figures in stone. Rechnitz found Tamara’s conversation exciting, even though it contained no exceptional wisdom. He felt a sudden longing to grasp in his arms this body which was so uncertain about what it wanted, and to kiss Tamara full on the lips. It is quite possible that he would have done so, had he not heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

  Again there was a sound at the door; this door, which had not opened to visitors for many days and nights, tonight opened twice.

  XXX

  Rechnitz pulled himself together and behaved as if there were no little Tamara seated in his room. Rachel and Leah came in. They had not intended to pay a call until, passing the house, they heard the sound of conversation and assumed that Rechnitz was not too busy with his work. In this they were certainly correct.

  Tamara sat on the edge of the couch. She looked up at Rachel and Leah without animosity or envy; or if there were a trace of envy, it was only what a young girl would feel towards those older than herself who could talk to Jacob without being overawed. Now she lowered her head to sniff at the carnation on her blouse, pleased enough to take her place with Rachel and Leah, her seniors.

  Rechnitz moved his basins and seaweed out of the way and transferred his microscope elsewhere. Only a few dry specimens remained on the table, which he did not need, as there were duplicates already mounted in his album. Now that his work was set aside and he had only his guests to attend to, he would gladly have offered them something, as was his usual way, but he could find nothing: no chocolate, no fruit – in fact, since the Consul’s arrival he had felt no need for such things. But Zeus, who watches over guests, now intimated to the host that tea might be prepared, for tea is welcome on all occasions. So Rechnitz took out his little burner and set it going. The flame lit up as it used to in the old days when Rachel Heilperin would drop in. Now Rachel sat and gazed, sometimes at the flame which flickered and mounted through the perforations, sometimes at its reflection in the looking-glass opposite, thinking to herself, Rechnitz is going to America and I shall not see him again. Probably he will put me out of his mind and not think of me anymore, just as he never thought of me before he knew me. And probably this is the last time I shall ever sit in this room. She looked up towards Rechnitz but saw only his back, since he was occupied with getting out the tea and sugar. Pursing her lips, which had a way of pouting disdainfully, she picked up two or three of the seaweeds that Rechnitz had left on the table because he could not bring himself to throw them away. Holding them in her hands, she began to plait them together. At the same moment, or even a moment before, Leah Luria got up and took over the entire operation of tea-making, just as she always took every task upon herself.

  The little burner stands between the door and the table; the water bubbles and rises, but when it reaches full boil there isn’t enough for all the girls, as the kettle is too small. Let us leave the tea, then, and turn to other concerns. There is the burner with the water gradually heating. Opposite, Tamara sits on the edge of the couch. Rachel is at the table, plaiting herself a kind of garland. A song comes into her mind —

  Beside the brook the boy reclined,

  And wove his flowery wreath.

  Then again she wonders at herself for bothering with such plants, whose smell is like that of iodine on a wound.

  Leah said, “Here am I standing about as if I had nothing to do and I promised to go and see Asnat!”

  Rachel answered, “You are nothing but a parcel of promises, Leah,” and went on plaiting her garland.

  “But since I promised her, what shall I do? How can I let her wait for nothing?”

  “Oh, let Asnat wait until she’s tired of waiting. Where are you off to, Tamara?”

  Tamara answered, “I am going to call Miss Mag-argot. That is, if Dr. Rechnitz has no objections.”

  “On the contrary,” said Rechnitz.

  Rachel laughed and said, “I knew that Leah and I would not be enough for you! Whom else shall we invite?”

  But just as Tamara was about to leave, in came Asnat, and with her, her relative Raya. For Asnat, deciding not to wait any more, had gone for a walk with Raya Zablodovsky and while they were out they had passed by Rechnitz’s house, heard the sound of conversation and decided to come in.

  Asnat had not really intended to visit Rechnitz but she was glad now that she had come. And the same was true of Raya, who was not paying a visit for the sake of Rechnitz but to please herself; it was her own personality that guided her movements and so she made herself at home everywhere. Thus it came about that five girls were all met in the lodgings of Rechnitz, each for a reason of her own and all well pleased to be there.

  “Is anyone still missing?” asked Rachel.

  “If Mira were here,” said Leah, “that would make a full session.”

  “Yes, but there wouldn’t be a spare cup for her,” said Rachel.

  “I don’t take tea,” Tamara put in.

  “My dear child,” said Rachel, “yours is not the only mouth.”

  Tamara lowered her head and took another sniff at the carnation on her blouse.

  “I didn’t mean to mock you,” Rachel added.

  Tamara said, “I know that, Miss Heilperin, and of course I’m not hurt.”

  After tea, Asnat said, “How about going for a walk? All in favor, raise their hands.”

  “Better their feet,” said Rachel, “so that we can get started.”

  “Let me first make our host’s bed,” said Leah, “so that when he comes back he’ll find it ready for him. Where shall we go?”

&
nbsp; “Where?” said Asnat. “By the sea, of course.”

  “And when we pass Mira’s house,” added another of the girls, “we’ll call her out too. Who votes for that?”

  So Rechnitz found himself again in the company of the six. Not long ago he had been glad that he had given them up, now he was pleased that they had returned. The envy of the gods works in devious ways, so that we ourselves cannot know what is for our good and what is not.

  XXXI

  The sea lay stretched on a bed as wide as the world, its nightshirt the moon-whitened waves. The shores had grown long, moonlight lay on the sands and the sea. A beneficent spirit brooded over Rechnitz and the six maidens, for on the way they had called for Mira, who hurried to make up the quorum of the Seven Planets. When such a night as this and such a spirit are in conjunction, their power is complete, their blessing great.

  Rachel, Leah and Asnat walked to the right of Rechnitz; Raya, Mira and Tamara to his left. Sometimes they changed places, those on the left wheeling over to the right, or those on the right passing over to the left, but they always took care to leave Rechnitz in the middle. And Rechnitz among his maidens was carried beyond himself, as he had been on those fine nights a year ago, and two years, and three years ago. At that moment, he put Shoshanah entirely from his mind. But her memory formed a circle around his heart, like the golden lashes around her eyes as she slept.

  Rachel Heilperin wore the appearance of being happy, while Leah Luria was happy indeed. “On a night like this…” she cried excitedly, and great untellable longings trembled in that lovely voice. Since she knew no way to sing the praises of the night, she stretched out her delicate arms and stared into the hollow of the universe. And night assigned that hollow its own starlit mightiness. “On a night like this…” she cried again, and again stopped short. But since she could not still the tumult within her, she called to the others, “Girls, girls, just look! Look!”

  Sea and sky, heaven and earth, and all the space between were grown into a single living being; a luminous calm enveloped by azure, or an azure transparent as air. Up above, and under the surface of the sea, the moon raced like a frenzied girl. Even the sands were moonstruck and seemed to move perpetually. Like the sands, like all the surrounding air, the girls, and with them Rechnitz, were taken up into the dream. If they looked overhead, there was the moon running her race, and if they looked out to sea, there she was again hovering upon the face of the waters. Heaven and earth, land and sea, had become a single whole; and this was contained in yet another, greater whole that no eye could see.

  Rachel took Leah’s hand, Leah the hand of Asnat and Asnat that of Raya, and Raya took Mira’s, and Mira Tamara’s and Tamara took Rachel’s; they encircled Rechnitz and danced around him, danced until Rachel broke from their ring and knelt down facing the sea with her eyes uplifted to the moon. Asnat stood still, stretched out her hands in the air and played inaudible notes on an unseen keyboard. “Listen, Tamara,” said Mira, “if I had a horse, I would go galloping from one end of the world to the other!”

  “Good people all,” said Raya, “has anybody a horse in her pocket for Mira? Oh Mira, Mira, I’ve no horse in my pocket either, so what can I do for you, my dear? Could you possibly do without the horse and go on foot?”

  “For your sake, Raya, I shall go on foot,” Mira answered, laughing and putting her arms around Tamara. Tamara laid her head on Mira’s breast and said, “You’re a good friend.” “Wait, little one, wait,” Raya called to Tamara, “my shoe’s full of sand.” She leaned against her, took off her shoe and shook it empty.

  Suddenly Leah called, “Look, good people all, just look! What’s that out to sea? I swear there’s a light burning on the water!”

  They looked out to sea and at the light, which came from a passing ship. Only those aboard knew whether it was sailing to or from the Land of Israel, but to Jacob Rechnitz and his companions it made no difference where the ship was headed. They stood in silence watching the light floating on the surface of the sea. The spread of waters girdled both the ship and the light. Now the light sank, now it rose, again it sank and floated. On such a ship Jacob would soon be sailing over endless distances, and they, perhaps, would stand on the shore as now and see the light far off, while Jacob would not see them or be aware of their presence, even as the passengers on this ship were unaware of being observed. So the girls stood silent, looking out and clasping each other by the waist. At last they turned their thoughts from the ship and grieved for themselves, as if they had suffered some loss.

  Once thoughts have entered the mind, words come to the lips, and Leah spoke aloud what they were all thinking. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, Dr. Rechnitz,” she said, “when will you be leaving for America?”

  Rachel said, “How could our doctor make such a long journey just as he is?”

  “What do you mean by ‘just as he is’?”

  “I mean, all alone,” said Rachel.

  “And what does ‘all alone’ mean?”

  “It means without a wife,” said Rachel.

  Leah took Jacob’s hand and clasped it as a conciliatory gesture.

  Rachel added, “What a pity it is we didn’t settle among ourselves that whoever first took Rechnitz’s hand won the privilege of going to America with him.”

  Leah withdrew her hand, remarking, “You’re a wicked girl, Rachel!”

  Asnat said, “But, Leah, doesn’t taking his hand make you a wicked girl?”

  Then Tamara came up and took hold of Jacob’s hand.

  “It will do you no good, Tamara,” said Rachel. “We were talking about whoever first took his hand, which does not apply to you.”

  Tamara gave the hand a little squeeze and sniffed at the carnation on her blouse.

  “I don’t know why,” said Mira, “but I feel as if I want to run. To run from one end of the world to the other.”

  “To run? What put that into your head?”

  Mira said, “If I were to run, no horse and no rider would ever catch me.” Even as she spoke, she started off on her light feet. Leah called after her, “Mira, Mira, don’t go too far!” But Mira did not hear her; she was already some distance away and still running.

  Said Raya to Tamara, “And you, my little Tamara, stand about like a hobbled bird. Don’t you want to try your legs?”

  Tamara raised her eyes and gazed up at Jacob to see if her running would please him. Even as she looked, her feet lifted themselves of their own accord and she was off.

  Asnat played with the tassels of her belt, swinging them back and forth as she said, “If Dr. Rechnitz doesn’t take one of these mighty runners for a wife, I don’t know whom he will take.” As she spoke, the tassels slipped out of her hands and her legs began to quiver.

  “Do you want to run, too?” said Rachel, taunting her.

  “If you run, I will!” she answered.

  “No,” said Rachel, “you run. What’s this I am holding, a circle of thorns? Dr. Rechnitz, I forgot I had your plants in my hand and I’ve brought them out with me. Now listen to me, girls, listen. Whoever beats the others in the race will be crowned with this garland.” She raised overhead the seaweeds she had plaited, repeating, “Whoever beats the rest takes this as her crown. What do you want to say, Leah?”

  “That’s not how the Greeks did it,” said Leah. “What they did was this. The young men ran and whoever won the race received the crown from the most beautiful girl present. Isn’t that so, Dr. Rechnitz?” And as she spoke she, too, felt her knees quiver. To Rachel she said, “Will you run with me?”

  “Run, Leah, run!” said Rachel. “Perhaps you’ll win the garland.”

  At this point the other girls returned. “Girls,” said Leah, “if you’d been here a moment ago, you’d have heard a splendid thing.”

  “And what is this splendid thing we’ve missed?” asked Asnat.

  “Do you see this garland?” said Leah. “We’ve all agreed that the fastest runner will win and wear this wreath, made of Dr. Rechn
itz’s weeds. Do you agree, Dr. Rechnitz?”

  Rechnitz nodded, saying, “Yes.” But his face grew pale and his heart began to quake.

  Leah insisted, “The Greeks had the men run, not the girls.”

  Asnat answered, “But since all those young men are dead and we are alive, let’s do their running ourselves. Do you agree, Dr. Rechnitz? Yes or no? Why don’t you speak?”

  Rechnitz answered, “I agree,” and his heart quaked all the more.

  “Very well,” said Asnat. “Stand in a line, girls. Now, where do we start from and where do we run to?”

  She looked up in the direction of the Hotel Semiramis and said, “Let’s start from the Semiramis.”

  “And where do we finish?”

  “At the old Moslem cemetery. Dr. Rechnitz, you stand in line with us and call ‘one, two, three.’ At ‘three,’ we’ll start. Raya, don’t step out of line. Tamara, until Rechnitz gives the call you mustn’t lift a foot, do you hear?”

  “I hear,” said Tamara.

  “Stay in your place, then, and don’t stretch your neck out like a camel’s.”

  All the girls now stood together where the balconies of the Hotel Semiramis overlooked the sea. They faced the old cemetery, which they had taken as their finishing point. Each looked down at her feet as they made room for Rechnitz. And Rechnitz, standing in the middle, looked from side to side at the girls poised for the race, at the garland on Rachel’s arm, and again at the girls, wondering which of them would wear it as her crown. His hands trembled and his heart beat so fast that he could hardly speak.