Shira (60 page)

Chapter twenty-three

T
he lecture was successful beyond all expectations. I have already described Herbst’s prowess; now let me describe the prowess of his listeners. They listened, not merely with their ears, but with their soul, alerting their ears so their soul could hear. Those who had left school to come to the Land of Israel, abandoning their studies in the middle, remembered things they had been too young to appreciate. Now that Herbst was bringing up these subjects, they recognized what they had lost, and what was lost to the world with the destruction of Greece. When had their loss occurred? The day they left their parents’ home and the town in which they were born. Throughout Herbst’s lecture, some of our friends sat summing up accounts vis-àvis the Land of Israel, comparing themselves to the last of the Greek philosophers, who watched as Christian invaders destroyed all that was good in the world, stamping out life’s joy and beauty. Were it not for the Land of Israel, they would be with their families, tranquil in their homes, serene in their towns, free from fiscal worries, hostile Arabs, and the blistering heat of
hamsin
winds.

Others, who came from the study houses of Galicia, knew hardly anything about Greek cities beyond what appears in the Gemara and in Josephus. Macedonia, for example they related to Alexander of Macedon, conqueror of Judea in 322 b.c.e.; Athens, to the elders of the Athenian school, and to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Hananiah; Corfu, to news items about its citrons on Sukkot. They were astonished by everything Dr. Herbst said, especially about burial customs. Jerusalem was known to be the only place in the ancient world with a prohibition against keeping corpses overnight; now he claimed that idol worshipers lived by the same rule. They were further astonished to hear him refer to worldly scholars as
zaddikim
. Though they themselves had changed since childhood, their faith in these righteous
zaddikim
was intact. And who were the
zaddikim
? They were rabbis whose greatness was on the lips of everyone, the teachers of the
Hasidim
. When these young people moved away from the Torah and began reading secular books, they found support for much of what they had heard. Herbst, as you know, always responded to young people’s questions as if they were those of a scholar and made every effort to satisfy them. Now he was quiet, reflecting on statements he had heard from Shira. Once, walking together on a Shabbat afternoon, they encountered a group of Hasidim. Shira was annoyed and imputed all sorts of evils to those pious people, Hasidim and
zaddikim
alike. But his mind didn’t dwell on Shira. The road, the village, the lecture dissolved the image of Shira.

Others, because of poverty or the effects of war on their childhood, had never studied and never read. Still, they considered what Dr. Herbst told them and thought: What Dr. Herbst described may have happened in the past, one or two hundred years ago; in more recent times, such things couldn’t happen.

One by one, several
kvutza
members slipped away to do chores. Those who were at leisure stayed on with the Herbsts. They brought tea and cake, and presented Herbst with further questions, which they had forgotten but remembered again. A breeze began to blow. Mrs. Herbst said, “Why don’t we go outside. You don’t mind, do you, Fred?” They got up, went outside, and stretched out on the lawn behind the dining room.

The fresh grass gave off a fragrance enhanced by the myrtle trees alongside the steps, whose scent was diffused by evening dew. They brought straw mats, which they spread on the grass, and blankets. The Herbsts sat on their mat and covered themselves with blankets. The affection of their hosts was all around them; bright stars were embedded in the darkness above. A light suddenly began to twinkle in the grove at the edge of the village; it split into several lights, and a bark resounded from the cucumber field where Shomron slept. The bark was followed by three cries, then the call of a nightbird.

From the western part of the village, where the light was, came the sound of singing and the smell of burning twigs. Henrietta looked in that direction and turned so she could listen. Someone noticed and explained, “The Palmach people have built a campfire. They like to sit around it and sing.” Henrietta nodded and said, “I see, I see.” She was thinking: Tamara is already grown and Sarah is still small. Because of age and circumstance they’re safe from such adventures.

Herbst was still holding the glass of tea he had taken with him from the dining room and giving profound answers to the questions he was being asked. Finally, there were no further questions, and Herbst was asked to talk about whatever he liked. He sat talking. It was many years since he had lectured before such an audience, since he had been in the company of such youngsters. It was many years since Henrietta had heard Herbst lecture and since she had heard him say the sort of things he was saying here. On this night, these two things came together. Most important, she understood the lecture, which was not the case when Manfred began lecturing at the university. At that time, she still didn’t know a word of Hebrew. At many points during his talk, she had felt like stroking his hand. Now that she was sitting next to him, she took his hand and clasped it in hers, not letting go until they got up.

Chapter twenty-four

I
t was nearly midnight when Avraham-and-a-half and Heinz I accompanied the Herbsts to their room. Heinz I is Heinz the Berliner. The numeral I was appended to his name so he wouldn’t be confused with Heinz from Darmstadt, who became Heinz
II
. Avraham-and-a-half walked with Zahara’s mother, while Heinz I walked with Herbst. After a bit, they were joined by Heinz
II
and Marga – the Marga who had given Herbst the idea of lecturing on images of Byzantine women. Marga adds nothing to the story of Herbst and Shira. Her only relevance is that she had brought Herbst water and now gave Mrs. Herbst some sprigs of myrtle. She had planned to bring them in the morning, but Heinz
II
had said, “What you picked tonight, bring tonight; tomorrow you’ll bring more.” As she spoke, Marga was chewing a myrtle leaf. Herbst thought she was smoking a cigarette. Marga and Heinz were accompanied by Shomron, who always joined the night watch. Shomron was pleased with himself for having controlled the impulse to bark at Zahara’s retinue. He didn’t bark at them now either. But he would have liked to bark an inquiry: Why was everyone nodding at those people. Marga and Heinz had no effect on the Herbsts’ walking pattern. Henrietta continued to trail behind Avraham-and-a-half, and Heinz I walked with Manfred. Henrietta’s conversation was exclusively about Zahara and Dani, about the arrangements in the
kvutza
, which were ideal for babies but less than ideal for nursing mothers. Even had they been ideal for nursing mothers, they were not ideal for Zahara, who, though we wouldn’t call her weak, was nevertheless delicate. Abraham-and-a-half devoured every word uttered by Zahara’s mother, although he didn’t grasp its meaning. The more she talked, the more fond he became of the old lady who was so fond of Zahara, and his mind raced ahead: In a few years, when we’re really settled, we’ll build a parents’ house. We’ll invite Henrietta and Herbst to live with the other old people, and every day, in the evening, Dani will visit Grandpa and Grandma. He will come back and tell his friends that Grandpa and Grandma speak Yiddish to each other. How odd it is that Henrietta and Herbst, who take such pains with their speech and whose German is so literate, will be perceived by the local children as Yiddish speakers. Avraham was deep in thought and didn’t realize he was taking the Herbsts the long way around when he ought to be leading them directly to their room. It was already late, and they must be tired from their journey. Heinz and Marga weren’t paying attention to the route and noticed neither the Herbsts nor the fact that they had left them without saying goodbye.

Heinz I was still engaged in conversation with Herbst, in the course of which he mentioned Saint Jerome and his Jewish teacher. So Herbst wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking he was an expert on the subject, he announced, “Everything I know about the Church Fathers I learned from a single lecture by Yohanan Levi. I once went to Jerusalem and up to Mount Scopus. I wanted to see the university. I soon found myself listening to a lecture on Saint Jerome.” “In any case,” Herbst said, “you have a good memory if you remember who his teacher was.” Heinz was quiet, offering no further comment. After a while, he said, “It’s not that my memory is good, but in the course of that lecture Yohanan Levi mentioned that Saint Jerome had misinterpreted a particular biblical verse and remarked that, for Jerome, that teacher was a poor investment. I only remembered Jerome and his Jewish teacher because of that joke.” Herbst said, “Nonetheless, you deserve praise. Because of a silly joke, you remembered what was essential.” Heinz said, “If you mean to praise me, I have to share the credit with Avraham, who was at the lecture too.” Herbst turned to Avraham and said, “I hear you go to lectures. I’m sorry to have missed the privilege of having you in my audience.” Avraham said, “I heard your entire lecture tonight.” Herbst said, “And is it unusual to hear an entire lecture? If you had left in the middle, Dani would accuse you of offending his grandfather. Yes, yes, I forgot – you don’t smoke, so I can’t compensate you for your time with a cigarette. But you, Heinz, surely you smoke? Not you either? Only the girls smoke here.” “The girls?” “Didn’t you notice that the one with Heinz ii was chewing on a butt? But let’s get back to our subject. So, you heard the entire lecture. Tell me this, my dear boy, how many grammatical errors did you find?” Avraham said, “I didn’t find any.” “But my accent is bad?” Avraham said, “An accent tells where you’re from. I can tell you’re from Berlin.” Henrietta said, “You’re not going to argue about accents at this hour?” Manfred said, “We’ve already begun.” Henrietta said, “In that case, stop.” Manfred said, “We’ve stopped.” Heinz said, “This is the place. You can sleep as late as you like. You won’t be disturbed by noise. The person who built this house loved to sleep. He picked a spot on a hill, with no neighbors. If you leave the lights off, even the sand flies will leave you alone. You don’t have to worry about mosquitoes. The windows are well screened, but nothing keeps the sand flies out.” Avraham said, “Since I came to this country, I’ve been hearing about sand flies. I think it’s all a fairy tale.” “A fairy tale?” Avraham said, “In the old days, people were afraid of giants. Now they’re afraid of sand flies.” Henrietta looked at Avraham fondly and said to her husband, “Fred, isn’t it a pleasure to hear such conversation? Tell me, Avraham, haven’t you ever been bitten by a fly?” Avraham said, “Not by a fly, not by a mosquito, not by a scorpion, not by any of those mythical creatures we hear so much about. Why should they sting me? Do I occupy their space? There is room in this country for me and for them.” Heinz said, “Now I understand why you didn’t join us last weekend when we were clearing away the stones in order to get rid of the scorpions.” “Last weekend? I wasn’t here last weekend. I went to Afula to bring Dan and Zahara back.” Herbst said to Avraham, “Didn’t you ever suffer from mosquitoes?” Avraham said, “Yes, of course. One summer they made my vacation so miserable that I gave up and ran away.” “You ran away? Where did you run to?” “To my mother and father in Berlin.” “Berlin? Where were you?” “In Karlsruhe. I had an aunt there, a special aunt, who invited me to spend my vacation in Karlsruhe. I was happier than I had ever been about any aunt, because I was told that my Karlsruhe cousins were going to act out the Karl May stories we used to read. When the vacation began, I went to Karlsruhe. I was attacked by mosquitoes and stung until my hands and face were like sieves. It was impossible to stay outside because of the mosquitoes. Not only was I unable to join in the play, but I couldn’t even walk in the park with my cousins because of the mosquitoes. Yes, they had window screens there.” Heinz said to the Herbsts, “Even though Avraham denies the existence of sand flies, you should be careful. If you can’t get undressed without light, be sure you turn it off immediately, before the sand flies notice. The moon is bright, and there’s actually no need to turn on the light.”

It was nearly midnight when they brought the Herbsts to the house in which they were going to spend the night. It was set on a hill at the edge of the village, away from the other houses, and had two rooms, one an infirmary, the other for the nurse. It had been built by the engineer who planned the
kvutza
, for himself and his new wife, with the idea that they would come for weekends and vacations. He didn’t spend much time there, so he sold it to the National Fund. The National Fund gave it to the
kvutza
, and it served as an infirmary, as well as a place for the nurse to live. The house was sold because of something that happened. The engineer and his wife were once on their way to Ahinoam, looking forward to a quiet and pleasant Shabbat. They met up with an Englishman, a government official whose car had broken down on the road. They offered him a ride. He accepted. The engineer invited the Englishman to stop in Ahinoam and have tea with him and his wife. He agreed to join them. Over tea, he told his hosts that he had been living in the country for six years and had never been invited to anyone’s home. The engineer said to his wife, “We ought to make up for all those years of loneliness.” The woman said, “We’ll do our best.” The Englishman spent all of Shabbat, as well as the following day, in the engineer’s house, and his hosts did their best to make his stay pleasant. He grew fond of them and became a frequent caller, almost a member of the household. One day the woman said to the Englishman, “I’m tired of this deception. Rather than cheat on my husband, I’m going to move in with you, and we can always be together.” The woman left her husband’s house and went to live with her lover. The engineer began to detest his country house. He sold it to the National Fund, and it was passed on to the
kvutza
. That night, it was unoccupied. The nurse who lived there had gone to Jerusalem in the morning, to see the psychiatrist Dr. Heinz Hermann about a young woman who had been attacked by an Arab shepherd and was in emotional shock. Herbst didn’t know that the quarters he and his wife were occupying belonged to the nurse he had met at Shira’s. It’s good that he didn’t know. Had he known, he would have been afraid Zahara would discover that the nurse knew him and that they had met at Shira’s. One further detail: when the nurse returned to the village and heard that Dr. Herbst had stayed in her room, she said, “I’m sorry I missed his lecture,” but she didn’t mention the fact that she knew him.