Part 18 (1/2)
”Oh. So what's wrong with going up to her place?”
”I can't,” he says emphatically, and Ora quickly switches to an onion, to have an excuse for the tears that will come.
”Ever since I got back I'm this way. Can't do it.” He snickers: ”A broken reed.”
She feels chilly and hollow in her stomach. As if only now, after several years of delay, has the final and terrible shock wave of his tragedy settled over him. ”Have you even tried?” she whispers, and thinks, How did I not know about this? How did it not occur to me to find out about this? I took care of his whole body, and I forgot about that? About that that, with him him, I forgot?
”I tried four times. Four times is a representative sample, isn't it?”
”With who?” she asks, amazed. ”Who did you try with?”
He doesn't seem embarra.s.sed. ”Once with the cousin of a soldier who was in the bed next to mine, and once with a Dutch volunteer who works there. Once with a soldier from rehab, once with someone I met on the beach a while ago.” He sees the expression on her face. ”What are you looking at me like that for? I didn't even initiate it! It's them ...” Then he adds helplessly, ”Turns out the prisoner fantasy works with POWs too, otherwise I can't explain it.”
”Has it occurred to you that they like you?” she bursts out, upset by the tinge of jealousy that jabs her. ”Maybe your charm wasn't damaged? Maybe even the Egyptians couldn't hurt the ...”
”I can't get it up, Ora. The minute I go to bed with them, each one of them. I'm actually not bad at jerking off, but how long can I spend stuck with myself? And anyway, lately I'm having problems masturbating, too. When I'm on Largactyl, I can't come.”
”But did you really want them?” she asks, and something in her voice seems to split into several directions. ”Maybe you didn't really want it?”
”I wanted it, I wanted it,” he grunts angrily. ”I wanted to f.u.c.k, what's the big deal? I'm not talking about immortal love here, I wanted a f.u.c.k, Ora, why are you so-”
”But maybe they weren't right for you,” she whispers and thinks painfully that a woman who is going to be with Avram has to be just right for him, for his subtleties.
”They were fine, don't look for excuses, they were just right for what ...”
”And with me?” she asks with a glazed look. ”Could you sleep with me?”
There is a long pause.
”With you?”
She swallows. ”Yes, with me.”
”I don't know,” he mumbles. ”Wait, are you serious?”
”It's not something to joke about.” Her voice trembles.
”But how-”
”We were so good together.”
”I don't know, I don't think I'll ever, with you-”
”Why not?” She jumps into her pain immediately. ”Because of the lots we cast? Because I drew you?”
”No, no.”
”Then because of Ilan?”
”No.”
She grabs another tomato and dices it in tiny pieces. ”Then why not?”
”No. I can't do it with you anymore.”
”You're so sure.”
They stand by the sink without touching, looking at the wall. Their temples throb.
”And Adam?” Avram asks now.
”What about him?”
Avram hesitates. He isn't sure what he meant to ask.
”Adam? You want to know about Adam now?” she says.
”Yes, is there something wrong with that, too?”
”There's nothing wrong with it,” she says, laughing. ”Ask anything you want. That's what we're here for.”
”Well, just if he was also a kid who...You know what? Tell me whatever you want.”
Here we go, she thinks and stretches her limbs.
They are walking through a thicket of p.r.i.c.kly burnet and sage. The oaks are as low as bushes here. Lizards dart under their feet in a panic. Side by side they walk, looking for the path, which has been swallowed up in the abundant growth, and Ora steals a glance at their elastic shadows that hover on the shrubbery. When Avram waves his arms as he walks, it briefly looks as though he is placing his hand on her shoulder, and when she plays with her body in the sun a little, she can make the shadow of his arm hug the shadow of her waist.
”Adam was also a thin boy, just like Ofer, but he stayed thin. A beanpole.”
”Oh.” Avram looks around as if randomly, indifferently, but Ora, as it turns out, still knows all the cards in his deck.
”As a child, he was always taller than Ofer-well, don't forget he's three years older. But when Ofer started getting older and growing, it changed and the order was reversed.”
”So now-”
”Yes.”
”What?”
”Ofer is taller. Much.”
Avram is amazed. ”Really? Much taller?”
”I told you, he had a growth spurt and just overtook him all at once, almost by a whole head.”
”You don't say ...”
”Yes.”
”So in fact,” Avram says, speeding up and thoughtfully sucking on his cheek, ”he's taller than Ilan, too?”