Marta gave a weary gesture and slapped the air. I’ll carry on writing, she said, but differently. Not to satisfy that daily appetite for the latest news, but writing non-topical articles, things the newspaper can give more of a spread when it’s less rushed, and I said, surprised, I didn’t know you were involved with news, I thought you were already doing non-topical articles, and she replied, I know, don’t remind me, I was going to do articles but they had to be connected with current events, do you understand? the proceedings of the conference, the debates, after all, that was what they sent me here for, but being here I realized there was something more important and that’s why I want to write real human-interest articles, something like Oriana Fallaci, do you know her? yes, I said, and she continued: a bit like that, but the truth of something that’s being lived through real people, which here means all those linked to the war and its victims, not the biographies or the literature of the conference, and I’m really sorry if saying that offends you, but I’m convinced that what’s important is happening outside, on the streets and on the walls protecting the city and not in these conference halls; it would be idle to devote my time to literary topics when half a mile away the destiny of one or several cities is being played out. The night I met Bryndis, my newspaper’s war correspondent, meant a lot to me. Hearing her tell her stories of brave men who leaped into the fray, the courage with which they went on the attack and fell under the crossfire of the tracer bullets, hearing those really profound adventures, I felt empty, without anything to give her in return, and I realized that what was happening in the conference was only words, nothing more.
Then I said: don’t you think the death of Maturana and the mystery of his life is something profound? Yes, perhaps it is, but not enough. It was because of that story that I met Amos, I can’t forget that, but believe me, there are times when literature has to take a back seat, and this is one of them; maybe you don’t like what I’m saying, but I respect you and I’m only trying to be honest.
I thanked her for her honesty and asked her about Amos, did he know she was planning to stay? what did he think about that? When she heard his name the blue fishbowls of her eyes shone.
He loves his wife and children and that’s something to be proud of. I came later and I have to respect that, but I’ve seen his eyes looking at me and heard his voice and seen how his skin quivers and his penis rises like a sunflower toward me, I can’t live as if I didn’t know that, as if I hadn’t seen it; to be honest, I don’t know how important I am to him, but that doesn’t really matter. You can love someone who doesn’t love you, can’t you? Literature is full of cases. It’s the beautiful and terrifying thing about love, a prison of pleasure with bars that vibrate and punishments that give us spasms and fluids, addictions, anyway, love doesn’t always expect anything in return; in this city people love gods they’ve never seen, gods who don’t love them and of course don’t repay them, but they still love them, and have done over the centuries, isn’t that the supreme proof of love? I’ll love Amos and I’ll be his secret lover or his whore or whatever he wants; I told him that yesterday: wouldn’t you like to gather every whore together in one single whore? He didn’t answer, there are questions that don’t require an answer. Amos looked at me in silence and smiled, then turned me over on a cushion and entered me from behind, and we both enjoyed it a lot, I swear to you, I saw stars, not only the star of David, but the western star and the star that lit the wise Kings and the fleeting stars of this war, this war that will do away with all of us, even with this passion I feel for him, a passion that expects nothing but to be lived to the full, and that’s what I think and want, to take command of my own ship and steer it as I wish, and if it sinks to sink with it, as captains used to do in the old days, those who had a high sense of honor, and what about you? are you leaving already?
The building shook again, and I realized that a lot of time had passed. Yes, I said, the conference is over, the sessions are indefinitely suspended, so I’m going. Marta gave me a big hug and said: thank you, take care, think of me, and now go, I hate long farewells, the kind of farewell you see in movies is for movies, I’ll look for you in a chat room or on Facebook, and remember this, joonsdottir73@livadia.com. .
When I got back to the lobby, I saw that Jessica and Egiswanda were standing side by side. I felt relieved. Momo signaled to me from the car and I said to the women: come with me, please, I’ll introduce you on the way, hurry now.
As I got in the car I saw the female employee I had caught him with. I know how you can get out of here, said Momo, they’ve organized a shuttle from an airfield near Rehavia. All entrances to the city are closed because of the continued attacks, the only way to get out is by air.
Thank you, I said, but as you can see I’m not alone, there are three of us, do you think it’ll be possible? He looked and seemed to make a calculation, that doesn’t matter, if there’s enough space in my car then there’ll be enough space in the plane, now let’s go. It’s better if we don’t talk on the journey, I have to concentrate.
A cluster of grenades fell near us, setting off a chain explosion. The ground shook. According to Momo, an international intervention force was forming, but the people from the conference needed escorts to get out of the city, which was not easy. The wall around the city, which had once protected it, was now strangling it.
The residents could only go in and out through the check-point on Jaffa Road, which was the target of fierce attacks. The enemy armies had advanced as far as the walls, and from there they could easily control the siege.