ARNOST LUSTIG
305
I couldn't really say that I had seduced her. Only that we had been
together, and how, and what it would mean to me from here on after
whenever I would think of it, like everything that was important to me
in my life, if maybe not all that decisive. What a permanent relationship
between a woman and a man and a man and a woman is born of or at
least the memory of one without thinking about how long it lasted or
how quickly it had gone by. Who knew that was meaningful in some–
one's life or what remained that way in some sense? "Seduce" wasn't the
right word for it; not even "sleeping together" was accurate.
It
was
something that people want more of than they can get. And it's what
marks them for as long as they live just like the inexplicable does .
It
was a beauty that evoked a longing for everything that happens
only once; for everything that appears and disappears at the same time.
Every pleasure caused her sorrow.
It
wasn't in her power to reverse it.
There was an anxiety in her eyes from all that she did; what had
changed irrevocably for her and what she couldn't (and she wasn't the
only one) make cold blooded sense of. The need or intensity she had
suppressed in her screaming had not dwindled away. The thousand–
sided face of tension and selfishness. A satisfaction that was never found
or never relinquished . Why did it last only for a moment before it dis–
appeared? What can only happen once and never again? And which isn't
all the more understandable or clear because of it?
She breathed in deeply and exhaled and spread her arms. She wore the
expression of a person who was lost in herself. Her face had that look of
sleep which comes before a deeper one. She didn't have the strength she
appeared to have even though I looked stronger that morning myself.
"I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are."
"Maybe you just see me that way."
"It's the truth."
"I don't want to get old."
I smiled. I knew every one of her movements. I didn't want to remind her
that my Grandma Olga would say: whoever didn't want to grow old has to
die when they're young. I had a living example of it in front of my face.
"I'm sure you'll find people in the east that will be nice to you." (I
was thinking about Gotlieb Faber; about people who would be willing
or able to buy at least a little part of her.)
"Do you really think that?"
"You don't know who they are?" She knew what I was talking about.
All at once she said, "You are a friend of my heart."
I almost choked. A hot burst of blood went through my veins. I shut
my eyes a couple of times.
