“One day, I went to see my friends in the village, and my protector was there to deliver a lecture. He saw me and was pleased, assuming I would hear his lecture and then return to town with him. I had no desire to hear his lecture or to be with him. When he was on the platform, about to begin his speech, I got up and left.
“The road was in disrepair, full of obstructions. It was piled high with dirt. Leaves, both green and wilted, covered the dirt and were covered by it. I left the road and entered the forest. I didn’t know the way. One didn’t normally venture into the forest, certainly not alone, because of the deserters who roamed there. I followed the sound of the church bells and was beginning to enjoy being among trees and bushes that smelled of the wild berries we often ate without knowing where they grew. As long as it was light, I relished every single step and every single breath. When dusk began to fall and the trees took on another aspect, my joy was mixed, and I began to be afraid of army deserters who might be hiding in the woods. I heard hoofbeats and thought: This is the end.
“A tall man dressed in leather appeared on horseback. My terror dissolved instantly, and I asked, ‘Which is the way to town?’ He said, ‘Do you ride?’ ‘No.’ ‘Then we’ll walk.’ He got off the horse and walked to town with me. In bed that night, I reviewed what had happened and was astonished. Had I not seen him later on, I would have believed he was from a fairy tale. But fairy-tale characters were dead before we were born, and if they still exist, they exist to deny their reality. Dr. Herbst has something to say? No? Then I’ll get back to my story.
“A few days later, he rode past our house. He tied up his horse and came in. He gave me his hand and said, ‘I was passing your house, and I stopped in to ask where it is nicer, in the woods or at home.’ At this point, I saw no trace of what I had seen in him before, yet there was a special quality I could not define, and his image was not diminished. Meanwhile, the horse was neighing. He said to me, ‘If you could ride, I would put you on my horse and race to the end of the world with you.’ I said to him, ‘Since I don’t ride, you will have to race alone.’ He pursed his lips and said, ‘Touché. You win.’ A few days later, he returned. Father took out the Carmel wine. I spread out a cloth and brought cakes. I noticed that he looked at me with pleasure, that Father was pleased too. We sat together. Father spoke about the Balfour Declaration, rebuilding the land, and the like. When our conversation turned to the halutzim, Father told about Sokolow’s influence, as a result of which the duchess had been granted jurisdiction over the village. When he left, Father said, ‘He is a real man. Too bad we can’t interest him in Zionism.’ I laughed inwardly. A real man, romantic whims and all.
“One night, when I came back from a drama workshop, Father came out of his room and said, ‘The forest prince was here.’ I said to him, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t see him.’ Father said, ‘I guarantee that he’ll be back.’ He paused, then added, ‘You don’t wonder why?’ I said to Father, ‘Why are you smiling?’ Father said, ‘If I tell you, you’ll smile too. That man, who is as old as I am, asked what I would say if he wished to marry my daughter.’ I said to Father, ‘What was your answer?’ Father said, ‘What should I have answered?’ I said, ‘You gave him an answer. Tell me what you said.’ Father said, ‘I told him that my daughter’s heart already belongs to another.’ I began to wonder whom he had in mind. Then, suddenly, I became enraged and shrieked, ‘If you mean that climber, that Pickwick, let me tell you — you’re making a big mistake!’ Father said, ‘I thought you would smile, and instead you’re angry.’ I said to Father, ‘I’m not angry at him, I’m angry at you! You think I have no taste, that I would give my heart to someone I can’t stand.’ Father said, ‘Tell me, please, what do you have against him?’ I said, ‘You want to know, then I’ll tell you. He calls Herzl, Gerzl.’ Father said, ‘That’s the only reason?’ I said to Father, ‘There’s more.’ ‘What else?’ ‘He calls Heine, Geinrich Geine.’ Father said, ‘His Russian diction is impeccable, yet you hold that against him?’ I said to Father, ‘I agree that those reasons are inadequate. I regret that I am not intelligent and knowledgeable and that I don’t know the true answer, but hopefully he will leave me in my ignorance.’
“The next day, I didn’t stir from the house. I knew I would turn down the man Father had told me about. Still, I waited for him. Why? Just to say: ‘I don’t want you’! The day passed, and he didn’t come. When, after several more days, he still didn’t appear, I stopped thinking about him, and Father didn’t mention him either. One day, at sunset, I heard a knock at the door. I thought to myself: He has finally come. The door opened, and Pickwick came in. He flung his hat angrily and said, ‘I’m here to congratulate you.’ ‘What for?’ He sneered and said, ‘On your betrothal.’ ‘My betrothal?’ I cried in surprise. He repeated, ‘Your betrothal to that old lecher, the gigolo who carries on with the old duchess.’ I was silent. He changed his tone and began to address me tenderly. ‘Really, Shira, really, its unbecoming for a young Hebrew woman, the daughter of a distinguished Zionist, to marry someone like that, who has lived with gentile women. Listen, Shira, let’s go to the Land of Israel, let’s join a kibbutz, let’s live a pure life.’ I answered him, ‘As for your speech about a Hebrew woman and all the rest, the fact is that I now have the opportunity to rescue a Jew from Gentiles. As for its being unbecoming, there are many unbecoming things in the world, and I don’t believe the world will be any uglier if I add one more. As for the Land of Israel, it seems to me that the first two answers include an answer to that idyll.’ After he left, the one who wanted me to be his wife arrived. I answered him, saying yes. So I was married, then divorced. I was divorced from him because I married him. I’m not joking. I’m simply reporting what happened. Dr. Herbst has a question? No? Then I’ll get back to the subject. I must say, I don’t really like talking about myself, least of all about that chapter. If I were to be interrupted, I would not return to my story.”
Chapter twelve
“Where was I? I was telling that story. Although I was mature beyond my years, I had no concrete picture of married life. As long as we were engaged, he behaved like a rich uncle. He used to bring me presents and speak to me affectionately. I can’t deny that those days were pleasant, but they didn’t last. I was not quite seventeen when we were married.
“The wedding was large and elegant. Zionist lumber merchants and householders came to share in our joy, and the flow of gifts and telegrams was a burden to me. Father had one drink too many and made a long speech about the apple of his eye and her chosen one. Other speeches followed in endless succession, after every speech a drink, and after every drink — joy. Everyone was happy, except for me. I was irritated and bored, the sort of boredom you feel at a gala concert. You sit there, stuck to your seat, not daring to stir. Meanwhile, something is bothering you, perhaps your skin, perhaps your clothes. Your eyelids droop. You strain to keep your eyes open. You watch the violin bow, make an effort to focus on it, but it looks menacing, and your mind is blank. I forgot I was at my own wedding, and all sorts of places where I had once been came together, lining up side by side, one after the other. Finally, all those places vanished, and I was in a forest with no way out. I was expecting a man in leather to come and lead me out, and I was surprised that he didn’t come. I heard the sound of a horse and looked up. I saw that very man seated beside me in fancy clothes, with another man standing over him, dressed like the one who had led me out of the forest. He pointed at the guests, most of whom were intoxicated. He pointed at them again, saying, ‘They need something, but who knows what? Get up, Shira. Put on some warm clothes, and let’s go out into the world.’ When I was outside, he covered me with fur and lifted me into a sleigh, which glided off into the forest.”