Читать книгу Kin - Dror Burstein - Страница 17

YOEL

Next to the beach the two of them stood, [ ] and [ ], waiting for him. A crow pecked at his heart. Because he saw Emile in their faces. Because Emile looked like both of them, him and her. Even from a distance. The way they stood, the movements of their hands, their bowed heads—were his. No, not mine. And a burning insult flooded Yoel, undermined him, slowly disintegrated him. Everything came from there. From them. They even gave him his name. He was him and her too. Yoel’s eyes skipped from him to her. Yes, they were his parents, no doubt about it. What were their names? Like a door opening. Skies clearing. His eyes darted between them, he broke into a sweat, he went on walking toward them, understanding that he recognized them because of their obvious resemblance to Emile, whereas they did not recognize him. He could walk past them and they wouldn’t have any idea. For a moment it seemed to him that the man not only looked like Emile but was his actual, older twin, whereas the woman didn’t look like him at all, and then, a second later, Yoel saw that there was actually an astonishing resemblance between Emile and the woman. Although she was a woman, she was Emile—her eyes were his, her hair was his, though his eyes and his hair were his as well. Altogether, they looked alike, thought Yoel, they resembled each other and therefore both of them resembled Emile. And a second later, they didn’t look like each other, only the man, only the woman looked like him. It didn’t stop. Emile’s face flickered over his parents’ faces. Yoel couldn’t hold on to it for even a second, put his finger on the resemblance, on the feature that belonged beyond a doubt to the child who had been with him for thirty-seven years.

The go-between had refused to tell him their names. He’d arranged for them to meet on the street corner, the day and the hour, come to the corner of Yarkon and Yona Hanavi, good luck to you and my job is done. Yoel gave the go-between an envelope with a “nice sum” and said “You can count it” and lowered his eyes. But the go-between said, “No . . . we have complete confidence in you, sir,” and with two fingers he opened the flap of the envelope and peeked with one eye closed, with his mouth twisted sideways.

The two of them stood there, looking emphatically at their watches, as if to signal the fact of their waiting to everybody who saw them. Yoel kept his eyes on the pavement. He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop just like that and address these people. Suddenly the whole plan seemed insane to him. What was he doing, who do you think you are, thirty-seven years, leave it alone. Look at them, simply saying the word, simply bringing up the idea, that’s already a crime. He fixed his eyes on the pavement and went on walking. There was a loose paving stone under his foot and for a moment he lost his balance. Walk straight past, go to the beach, come a little late. You’ve seen them, that’s something anyway. Run away, cancel the whole thing. They won’t know who you are, they’ll call the go-between, they’ll yell at him, he’ll try to contact you, he’ll forget all about it, he’s already received his fee. Go on walking, breathe normally, raise your head, don’t look suspicious. What a crazy idea, what were you thinking? Think that you’re on a bridge and they’re underneath it. Keep on walking, go past them, don’t give any sign that . . . And already his lips are pursed for a nonchalant whistle. A lot of people are walking past here, why are they all in fancy dress, why has that little girl got wings, is it already Purim? Why is it so hot? And he raised his head like someone out for an innocent stroll and walked past them with a quick, light step, looking ahead at the water. They turned their heads and said in unison, half questioning, half stating a fact: Excuse me, Emile’s father,