another Scheherazade. Even if I recount every detail, I won’t take a thousand and one nights.”
Manfred Herbst was a curious person, like all those who deal with books and are so unfamiliar with the world that their ears perk up at any news of it. But now that he was out with Shira, he regretted every word she spoke, for she was involved with her story rather than with him. By and by, he relaxed and began to be intrigued by her words. When she paused, he started, expecting events to unfold as they had the previous night, when they were alone in her room. But, no. Shira returned to her story.
“The sleigh stopped in a field in the forest, surrounded by snowy hills and snow-covered trees. That man leaped out of the sleigh, wrapped me in his arms, and said, ‘Here is our house.’ I saw no sign of a house, only smoke rising from the snow, sending forth the fragrance of burnt pine. He brought me to a heated room. My limbs were heavy with fatigue, and my eyes sought sleep. He looked at me strangely, pointed to the wide bed, and said, ‘You’re tired. Take off your clothes and get into bed.’ He saw I was ashamed to undress with him there, and he left. An old woman came to help me. I said, ‘Don’t bother, I’ll undress myself.’ She wished me well and left. I threw off my clothes and my shoes, everything but my stockings, which I didn’t have the strength to remove. I stood there, wondering what was going on, just what I was doing there. Exhausted, I flung myself on the bed, curled up in the feather quilt, and gave myself to sleep.
“Hearing footsteps, I started. I assumed the old woman was coming to see if I needed anything. I closed my eyes, so she would think I was asleep. The quilt lifted itself, and a cold wind engulfed me. I opened my eyes and saw a naked man, totally undressed. I screamed in terror, ‘Get out!’ He whispered, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’m your husband.’ I screamed as loud as I could, ‘I’ll scream if you don’t get out!’ He said, ‘What’s the point, when you’re screaming already?’ And he began to caress me, to embrace me, his mouth dripping kisses. I freed myself from his embrace, leaped from the bed to the door and from the door to the hall. By the time he recovered from the shock, I was outside.
“The woods were covered with snow, and the trees were totally still. The snow vibrated underfoot in the stillness. I ran through the snow, not knowing whether I was cold or warm. A hand gripped me, and in an instant I was in that man’s arms. He ran with me, yelling, ‘If I hadn’t found you immediately, you would have frozen to death. A babe in the woods on a freezing night, without clothes, without shoes.’ He brought me to the room I had escaped from and stood me on my feet, sighing and whispering, ‘Oh, my darling, my darling, I didn’t know how much I love you. Kill me, but let me have one hour with you.’
“The old woman came with a hot drink, put me to bed, covered me with several blankets, and brought a hot brick wrapped in towels, which she placed at my feet. She sat beside me, singing sad and lovely songs about water creatures, wood sprites, and other sprites that assume human form and cohabit with the sprites, all of whom give birth to male children they hide in trees, where they grow up, unbeknownst to anyone. In springtime, when young girls go to the woods, these boys pop out, snatch the ones who are virgins, whisk them away, and marry them. When their babies are born, they deposit them in trees, unbeknownst to anyone. And when they grow up, the cycle is repeated. That’s how it is, that’s how it was, and that’s how it will be until the end of time.
“Night passed and day came. That man appeared and began to coax me, to promise me everything if only I would relent. I sobbed, I cried, I begged. ‘Take me back to my father. I don’t want to stay here even a minute.’ He no longer kissed and hugged me. He spoke to me gently, then harshly. When he spoke
Manfred Herbst was a curious person, like all those who deal with books and are so unfamiliar with the world that their ears perk up at any news of it. But now that he was out with Shira, he regretted every word she spoke, for she was involved with her story rather than with him. By and by, he relaxed and began to be intrigued by her words. When she paused, he started, expecting events to unfold as they had the previous night, when they were alone in her room. But, no. Shira returned to her story.
“The sleigh stopped in a field in the forest, surrounded by snowy hills and snow-covered trees. That man leaped out of the sleigh, wrapped me in his arms, and said, ‘Here is our house.’ I saw no sign of a house, only smoke rising from the snow, sending forth the fragrance of burnt pine. He brought me to a heated room. My limbs were heavy with fatigue, and my eyes sought sleep. He looked at me strangely, pointed to the wide bed, and said, ‘You’re tired. Take off your clothes and get into bed.’ He saw I was ashamed to undress with him there, and he left. An old woman came to help me. I said, ‘Don’t bother, I’ll undress myself.’ She wished me well and left. I threw off my clothes and my shoes, everything but my stockings, which I didn’t have the strength to remove. I stood there, wondering what was going on, just what I was doing there. Exhausted, I flung myself on the bed, curled up in the feather quilt, and gave myself to sleep.
“Hearing footsteps, I started. I assumed the old woman was coming to see if I needed anything. I closed my eyes, so she would think I was asleep. The quilt lifted itself, and a cold wind engulfed me. I opened my eyes and saw a naked man, totally undressed. I screamed in terror, ‘Get out!’ He whispered, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’m your husband.’ I screamed as loud as I could, ‘I’ll scream if you don’t get out!’ He said, ‘What’s the point, when you’re screaming already?’ And he began to caress me, to embrace me, his mouth dripping kisses. I freed myself from his embrace, leaped from the bed to the door and from the door to the hall. By the time he recovered from the shock, I was outside.
“The woods were covered with snow, and the trees were totally still. The snow vibrated underfoot in the stillness. I ran through the snow, not knowing whether I was cold or warm. A hand gripped me, and in an instant I was in that man’s arms. He ran with me, yelling, ‘If I hadn’t found you immediately, you would have frozen to death. A babe in the woods on a freezing night, without clothes, without shoes.’ He brought me to the room I had escaped from and stood me on my feet, sighing and whispering, ‘Oh, my darling, my darling, I didn’t know how much I love you. Kill me, but let me have one hour with you.’
“The old woman came with a hot drink, put me to bed, covered me with several blankets, and brought a hot brick wrapped in towels, which she placed at my feet. She sat beside me, singing sad and lovely songs about water creatures, wood sprites, and other sprites that assume human form and cohabit with the sprites, all of whom give birth to male children they hide in trees, where they grow up, unbeknownst to anyone. In springtime, when young girls go to the woods, these boys pop out, snatch the ones who are virgins, whisk them away, and marry them. When their babies are born, they deposit them in trees, unbeknownst to anyone. And when they grow up, the cycle is repeated. That’s how it is, that’s how it was, and that’s how it will be until the end of time.
“Night passed and day came. That man appeared and began to coax me, to promise me everything if only I would relent. I sobbed, I cried, I begged. ‘Take me back to my father. I don’t want to stay here even a minute.’ He no longer kissed and hugged me. He spoke to me gently, then harshly. When he spoke
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