Read Online The Extra by A. B. Yehoshua - Free Book Online

necessarily. Some strings are made of nylon or metal.”
    â€œMetal . . . ,” he mumbles.
    â€œOf course,” she says, spurred on by his late-night curiosity. “Besides the strings, the harp also has seven pedals.”
    â€œP-p-pedals? Why?”
    â€œTo produce additional tones and halftones.”
    â€œHow many?”
    â€œA hundred and forty-one altogether.”
    He is lost in thought, as if digesting the great number, then studies the harpist with a mixture of wonder and compassion, and declares, “You need to be very coordinated.”
    â€œYes, coordination, that’s the word. If I miss the right string or pedal, the whole orchestra will notice the mistake.”
    â€œAnd how long have you been playing the harp?” The former policeman continues his interrogation.
    â€œFrom quite a young age.”
    â€œAnd because of the music, you c-c-couldn’t have children.”
    â€œI couldn’t?” She recoils. “Who told you that? I could have, but I didn’t want to,” she says, firmly repeating what she had told him when they first met.
    â€œHow do you know you could have?”
    â€œBecause I know. I know. My former husband also understood, which is why he left me.”
    Darkened streetlights surround them. The moon is gone. No one to be seen. It is the hour of deepest sleep, even in this neighborhood.
    â€œI understand,” he whispers, nursing his humiliation. “I-I understand y-you . . .”
    And still he refuses to leave.
    â€œSo would you like me to come tomorrow and install the bolt, so the children—”
    â€œThank you,” she interrupts. “For now there’s no point in investing anything in that old apartment, and I’ll control the children on my own.”
    By now the pain of rejection is turning into anger.
    â€œIf you never had ch-children, how will you know how to control them?”
    â€œPrecisely because I didn’t have children.”
    His laugh is short and bitter, and as he disappears into the darkness, she fears that his fondness for her has come to an end.
    In the apartment the bathroom light is on. Did she forget to turn it off, or did the little
tzaddik
slip in during the night to relax in front of the TV?

Fifteen
    T HAT NIGHT SHE SLEEPS fitfully and migrates from bed to bed. In the morning she phones her mother at the retirement home, and is surprised to have awakened her.
    â€œYes, I get much more sleep here than I need at my age, and more than suits my personality. I was afraid that Tel Aviv would upset me, but instead I feel serene.”
    â€œAnd the experiment?”
    â€œThe experiment keeps experimenting.”
    â€œYou think you can complete it, come back to Jerusalem and decide about the future from here?”
    â€œNo, Noga, we have no right to stop it. It’s not fair to Honi, who made such an effort, and certainly not fair to this facility, which gave me such a lovely room without requiring a commitment. No, we mustn’t stop in the middle.”
    â€œBut I know you, and you won’t stay there.”
    â€œDon’t be so sure. We have another nine weeks, and despite the tiny distance between here and Jerusalem, by European standards anyway, I’m getting a new perspective on myself, because here I am free of old obligations and superfluous memories. Now I’m fully entitled to sleep deeply, so I’ll also have a chance, like Abba, of taking my leave from you without any long illness or cause for worry.”
    â€œNot a chance.”
    â€œNot a chance? You, with your cruel honesty, may be right, though I get the impression that my experiment is hard for you. You’re already bored in Jerusalem? But unlike Honi, you love the city and are tolerant of our pious neighbors. Honi also told me that you enjoy the little roles he finds for you—that they killed you at night on the beach and you enjoyed lying on the sand and looking at