GIDEON TELPAZ
51
Three weeks after my conscription and less than a month after
the war had broken out, I was allowed my first home leave . A three–
day leave, two days of which were spent on the trip back and forth .
For the first time I appreciated the virtues of the small apartment my
wife and I shared , relished the intimacy of our furniture, the soft–
ness of the lampshades, the simple assurance of the toilet soap in the
bathroom, the kitchen smells. I even found pleasure in standing in
line at the grocery store , in the roar of the buses going by. My wife
took a day off to be with me. Perhaps I ought to have been more ro–
mantic, taken her out, wined and dined her . Before parting, she
bought a box of chocolates and put it in my bag as I set out on the
long journey back.
"Please thank your wife for me," Muna said as she put the
package aside. "It was kind of her to think of me ."
"Hey! I bring you chocolate, I drag it for miles across the desert,
and you don't even open the package. Don't you like chocolate?"
Muna sat up, stuck the pillow between herself and the bedrest
and leaned back. "I thought you wouldn't come back ."
fer. "
I
looked at her.
"You don't like being here . I thought you might ask for a trans-
"Well, I didn't." I got up .
She watched me. "Have you got a photo of her?"
"A photo of whom?"
"Your wife."
"And if I do?"
"Can I see it?"
I took out the snapshot I carried in my wallet.
"She's pretty," Muna said, handing it back to me. Her hand
was damp. She left it in my hand briefly, drew it away and hid it
under the sheet. "She looks exactly as I expected her to look . You are
lucky to have such a pretty wife." She slid down and pulled the sheet
up to her eyes . "I'm tired. Perhaps I'll be able to sleep now."
I kept giving her the steroid treatment , the most that I could
do. Her weight continued to drop, her vision grew dim, and she no
longer had the strength to get out of bed. There were days when she
suffered greatly . On other days her pains were lighter and my pres–
ence was less needed.
It
was on such a day that the local notables
held a banquet in honor of the officers of the Military Government,
and Major Golan asked me to attend .
We sat on rugs that still smelled of goats, and Major Golan,
reclining on his cushion, belched and hiccupped, licked his fingers,
