114
PARTISAN REVIEW
after this please leave me alone. I have made my contribution."
Susskind stood there, oddly motionless, an impassioned
statu~
and for a moment Fidelman wondered if he would stay all night,
but at last the refugee thrust forth a stiff arm, took the fifth dollar
and departed.
Early the next morning Fidelman moved out of the hotel into
another, less convenient for him, but far away from Shimon Susskind
and his endless demands.
This was Tuesday. On Wednesday, after a busy morning
in
the
library, Fidelman entered a nearby trattoria and ordered a plate of
spaghetti with tomato sauce. He was reading his
Messaggero,
antici–
pating the coming of the food, for he was unusually hungry, when
he
sensed a presence at the table. He looked up, expecting the waiter,
but beheld instead Susskind standing there, alas, unchanged.
Is there no escape from him? thought Fidelman, severely vexed.
Is this why I came to Rome?
"Shalom, professor," Susskind said, keeping his eyes off
the
table. "I was passing and saw you sitting here alone, so I came
in
to say shalom."
"Susskind," Fidelman said in anger, "have you been following
me again?"
"How could I follow you?" asked the astonished Susskind.
"Do
I know where you live now?"
Though Fidelman blushed a little, he told himself he owed no-
body an explanation. So he had found out he had moved-good.
"My feet are tired. Can I sit five minutes?"
"Sit."
Susskind drew out a chair. The spaghetti arrived, steaming hot.
Fidelman sprinkled it with cheese and wound his fork into several
tender strands. One of the strings of spaghetti seemed to stretch for
miles, so he stopped at a certain point and swallowed the forkful.
Having foolishly neglected to cut the long spaghetti string he was
left sucking it, seemingly endlessly. This embarrassed him.
Susskind watched with rapt attention.
Fidelman at last reached the end of the long spaghetti, patted
his mouth with a napkin, and paused in his eating.
"Would you care for a plateful?"
Susskind, eyes hungry, hesitated. "Thanks," he said.
