PARTISAN REVIEW
275
gered for the Rabbi, his soul, every bit of him.
It
wasn't enough
that she grasped his plump white body at night in the bed. It wasn't
enough that she squeezed him between her heavy thighs and pressed
him into her big breasts.
She was jealous of these secrets, these stories that couldn't be
told. She watched her kindly but reticent husband out of narrowed
eyes and tried to pump him for intelligence. But even in the throes
of passion, the Rabbi kept a hold on his tongue. Yehoodiss became
a tigress, a minx, a squirrel. No matter how many tricks she pulled
in their bed, the Rabbi's mouth remained shut. He sighed and
groaned with her, but he said nothing.
And this didn't satisfy Yehoodiss. She wanted to know. She
had a right to know....
"What?" the Rabbi would ask.
"Whatever
I"
Yehoodiss replied.
"Whatever what?"
"Whatever's going on in your mind
I"
"Nothing," the Rabbi answered. "Nothing
I"
"Over nothing, you fainted on the steps? Over nothing, you
tried to drink your soup with a fork? Over nothing, you have been
making sounds all evening?
What's this nothing?"
"Woe
if
I speak," cried the Rabbi, "and woe
if
I don't speak."
He was in bed by now and he turned over and held his tummy.
Yehoodiss knew that a quotation from the Talmud meant the end
of the discussion. Disgruntled, she turned over in the bed, the other
way, and made angry breathing noises until she fell asleep.
Such a situation is tinder. Yehoodiss's temper was combustible.
And the Rabbi was holding so much gas in, it was a wonder he
didn't explode. They loved each other. They had feelings for each
other. That only made it worse. They thought of each other when
they should have thought of themselves. In a fire this can be dis–
astrous.
"Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding
I"
Rabbi Lux sat up in his bed with a start.
"Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding
I"
Five o'clock in the morning. What was it? A fire - whispered
Rabbi Lux. Yehoodiss jumped up in a tangle of blankets and bed–
clothes.
"Ding ding ding ding dong
I"
