A Late Divorce by A. B. Yehoshua Page A

Ya’el?”
    Her father leans toward me his legs spread menacingly Ya’el looks at me with loathing.
    â€œI told her you had arrived and that you looked well. She asked if you still had a cramp in your neck and I said that I hadn’t noticed any cramp there. Then she asked if you were bothering the children.
    I said on the contrary, the children are happy that you’re here. I did tell her that you were finding it difficult to adjust to Israeli time. I gave her the agreement and recommended it. She asked if she had to read it. I said yes because that’s our professional duty, not to let people sign any contract or document that they haven’t read. They won’t understand it anyway, but it’s better for them to feel that they’ve read it without understanding it than that they haven’t understood it without reading it, ha ha ...” (No one laughs.) “She tried to read it but she couldn’t because her glasses are broken. Or maybe the dog ate them. You really should take care of it, Ya’el. So I read it to her. She listened quietly while I explained all the fine points to her, how her rights are all guaranteed. I really did talk carefully and gently but she hardly seemed to respond. She just asked once about you, Ya’el...’’
    â€œWhy I hadn’t come...”
    â€œPrecisely. But I explained why and she understood. I told her you’d come tomorrow or the day after and meanwhile we agreed that she’d think it over and sign and give the agreement to you. Of course we’re pressed for time. I tried telling her that as gently as I could....Could I have another cup of tea? I’m totally bushed. I’ve been running all evening after this check...”
    â€œShe won’t agree,’’ blurts the old man hopelessly. He leaves the room. Deep down I know that he’s right.
    â€œWhy won’t she?” I object. “That’s not my impression. Can I have some more tea or do I have to request it in writing?”
    Ya’el brings me tea her hands shaking she takes the baby from her chair and puts her into her crib Gaddi shows me his picture some tall women standing in the rain.
    â€œIt’s a terrific picture.” I kiss him and send him off to bed.
    Ya’el’s father has disappeared. She looks at me hostilely.
    â€œWhat’s gotten into you?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’ve been a wreck all day.”
    â€œThat’s obvious.”
    â€œIt was all just too much for me.”
    And really I’m dead on my feet it can’t be just that damn check something scared me today the world itself. Those broken alleyways ... that nude old woman in the yellow water ... that feeling of straw in my hair...
    I get up to look at the mail I turn on the TV I’m exhausted my eyes close I can’t make out the words Ya’el is cleaning the table the baby’s already asleep. I turn off the light and get into pajamas I put the check in my pajama pocket and look for a newspaper I can hardly move I get into bed and pull the big blanket over me.
    It’s ten o’clock. The telephone rings it’s my mother yes says Ya’el to her as though I were a three-year-old yes he’s eaten and now he’s in bed. Her father returns from a walk with a pack of cigarettes he whispers something to her. My eyes shut the newspaper slips to the floor. The old man comes into the bedroom to ask if I bought the present for Gaddi.
    â€œI’m sorry. I forgot.”
    He takes thirty dollars from his pocket and puts the bills on the night table by the bed.
    â€œYou don’t have to,” I whisper.
    But he lays an ashtray on them. He stands there morosely. Ya’el is washing dishes in the kitchen.
    â€œWhat should I buy him?”
    He doesn’t answer.
    â€œIf it’s all right with you, I’ll find some little electric train. He’s never even ridden in a train...” He stands