AMOSOZ
527
plain and Sharon through the blue-tinged honey haze, a light of
stones, a biblical light in which anything was possible and every–
thing was within reach. The Land of Ammon, for instance, was not
in the distance this morning but rising up at the very end ofZephan–
iah Street. In all our backyards, bathed and bare, stood mulberry
and fig trees, pomegranates and vines, because the suburb of Kerem
Avraham was built within an old orchard. There was an invisible
breeze from the sea, and a sea smell wafting on the air from time to
time. Above the tiled roofs of the Bokharian Quarter a solitary kite
was set deep in the heart of the sky, very bold and high, recalling the
flying snake, the twisted serpent, that we had learned about in Bible
lessons at school.
Jephthah is a small boy for his years. His freshly-washed hair
smells sweet and his hands are delicate like a girl's. From the rooftop
he scans the horizon, planning in his mind's eye a magnificent ad–
venture: with a small band of stouthearted seamen he will sail away
to the shores to Guadeloupe, and after the passage of many years he
will return from his travels with an air of cold disdain and present to
the newly-established Hebrew state the Golden Isles which he has
discovered and conquered far away in the south of the globe. Chaim
Weizmann himself will say to him, You are peerless, Jephthah, his
mother will watch him with tears in her eyes from the front row and
his father with a shy smile, and strange girls will melt.
The city lies fresh and open at his feet: each stone in its proper
place. In the street little children are playing games and Jephthah
from his vantage point forgives them for everything. They are not
destined for doughty deeds and so they can play to their hearts' con–
tent while he concentrates on planning the details of his voyage. A
stupid bowlegged dog in the Slouschz family's backyard is barking
away without anger, as though he is simply discharging his duty.
Daddy is sitting in an armchair in the yard with his books and
papers on his lap, probably reading abou t the history of the Jews in
Poland, probably making notes in pencil in the margins: Here the
author is mistaken. Or: There is no evidence for this. Or: That
might have bee!1 interpreted differently.
On top of a low stone wall an old cat is drowsing inside its fur.
There is a foolish bird on the same wall , heedlessly perched within
pouncing range of the cat, stubbornly repeating over and over again
a sentence of four syllables. But the cat ignores the bird and the blue
light and continues to drowse motionlessly, as though the whole of
Jerusalem is far beneath its dignity . As for the religious neighbors
