joke about the couple that has sex on the street in Israel. Everyone who passes by tells them they’re doing it wrong.
—And what about you? Alec asked.
—Me? Lyova said.
—Where are you going?
Lyova raised his palms and exhaled contempt mixed with resignation mixed with despair.
—You’ve heard of Prisoners of Zion? Jews punished for Zionism? I’m the other kind of Prisoner of Zion. No country will take me. I lived in Israel, so I’m no longer a refugee. There is only one option: back to Israel.
—How long have you been here?
—Fifteen months.
—You won’t go back?
—I haven’t yet given up on the idea that I’m a free man in the free world. I lived in Israel. I worked. I paid taxes. I served in the army. I repaid my debt. Now I’d like to try somewhere else. Why not?
Polina moved from the kitchen to the bathroom. From the doorway, she peered into the bedroom.
—What do you think? Lyova asked.
—It’s fine, Polina said.
—You haven’t seen anything else yet, right? Lyova said. I understand, you have nothing to compare it to. But let me say, you won’tfind a better arrangement in Rome. Within walking distance are cathedrals, parks, monuments, galleries. Also the Porta Portese, the Americana market. I never have trouble renting the space. Normally, tenants leave, I know in advance and the day they leave I have already replaced them. This time, I was giving a tour of Florence, Venice, and Milan, and so the place has been vacant three days. But already I have had seven calls. I try to be selective. I live here, after all, when I am not giving tours. Generally, I can spot an honest face. Your wife, for instance, has an honest face.
—I’ve always felt that, Alec said.
—About you I’m not so sure, Lyova said and smiled.
—She will vouch for me, Alec said.
—In that case, Lyova said.
8
My dear Brigitte,
I hope you received my last letters. I sent two from Vienna. I send this one from Rome. I am writing it at the table of our new apartment. When I look out the window I have a view of the street. Actually, it is a view across the street of another building. I can see into the window of an apartment where a bald Italian man is reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee. Not very exciting, I suppose. I realize I could have looked out the window and seen essentially the same thing in Riga, and it certainly wouldn’t have interested me or seemed like the sort of thing to include in a letter. But already I’ve looked up half a dozen times to see what he is doing. He’s caught me looking twice and smiled. He may think I’m in love with him, or he may be used to this sort of thing. The apartment that we’re living in has been rented by a continuous stream of émigrés. There must be different Russians staring at him each month. In New York and Melbourne and Miami there are people from Leningrad and Baku and Kiev whose memories of Rome include this man drinking coffee. Now mine will too. Wherever I end up.
This is what I wanted to tell you. It appears that we are notgoing to Chicago. Zoya’s cousin can no longer sponsor us. They have to take her husband’s brother instead. That was the reason she gave, in any case. There’s a joke that if you want to make an enemy for life just sponsor a relative. So maybe it’s for the best?
Now we must decide on some other city or country. Igor’s family can’t agree. I don’t see that it matters, wherever we go we will be among strangers.
So you see, I do not know how long we will be in Rome. Even if we are here a short while it will allow enough time for this letter to reach you and for your reply to get back to me. But you will have to write quickly. I’m eager to hear from you. It would make me so happy to receive a letter from you. It’s already been nearly a month since we last saw each other. I think about you every day and wonder how you are getting along and about how Mama and Papa are behaving toward you. So write to me and
—And what about you? Alec asked.
—Me? Lyova said.
—Where are you going?
Lyova raised his palms and exhaled contempt mixed with resignation mixed with despair.
—You’ve heard of Prisoners of Zion? Jews punished for Zionism? I’m the other kind of Prisoner of Zion. No country will take me. I lived in Israel, so I’m no longer a refugee. There is only one option: back to Israel.
—How long have you been here?
—Fifteen months.
—You won’t go back?
—I haven’t yet given up on the idea that I’m a free man in the free world. I lived in Israel. I worked. I paid taxes. I served in the army. I repaid my debt. Now I’d like to try somewhere else. Why not?
Polina moved from the kitchen to the bathroom. From the doorway, she peered into the bedroom.
—What do you think? Lyova asked.
—It’s fine, Polina said.
—You haven’t seen anything else yet, right? Lyova said. I understand, you have nothing to compare it to. But let me say, you won’tfind a better arrangement in Rome. Within walking distance are cathedrals, parks, monuments, galleries. Also the Porta Portese, the Americana market. I never have trouble renting the space. Normally, tenants leave, I know in advance and the day they leave I have already replaced them. This time, I was giving a tour of Florence, Venice, and Milan, and so the place has been vacant three days. But already I have had seven calls. I try to be selective. I live here, after all, when I am not giving tours. Generally, I can spot an honest face. Your wife, for instance, has an honest face.
—I’ve always felt that, Alec said.
—About you I’m not so sure, Lyova said and smiled.
—She will vouch for me, Alec said.
—In that case, Lyova said.
8
My dear Brigitte,
I hope you received my last letters. I sent two from Vienna. I send this one from Rome. I am writing it at the table of our new apartment. When I look out the window I have a view of the street. Actually, it is a view across the street of another building. I can see into the window of an apartment where a bald Italian man is reading his newspaper and drinking his coffee. Not very exciting, I suppose. I realize I could have looked out the window and seen essentially the same thing in Riga, and it certainly wouldn’t have interested me or seemed like the sort of thing to include in a letter. But already I’ve looked up half a dozen times to see what he is doing. He’s caught me looking twice and smiled. He may think I’m in love with him, or he may be used to this sort of thing. The apartment that we’re living in has been rented by a continuous stream of émigrés. There must be different Russians staring at him each month. In New York and Melbourne and Miami there are people from Leningrad and Baku and Kiev whose memories of Rome include this man drinking coffee. Now mine will too. Wherever I end up.
This is what I wanted to tell you. It appears that we are notgoing to Chicago. Zoya’s cousin can no longer sponsor us. They have to take her husband’s brother instead. That was the reason she gave, in any case. There’s a joke that if you want to make an enemy for life just sponsor a relative. So maybe it’s for the best?
Now we must decide on some other city or country. Igor’s family can’t agree. I don’t see that it matters, wherever we go we will be among strangers.
So you see, I do not know how long we will be in Rome. Even if we are here a short while it will allow enough time for this letter to reach you and for your reply to get back to me. But you will have to write quickly. I’m eager to hear from you. It would make me so happy to receive a letter from you. It’s already been nearly a month since we last saw each other. I think about you every day and wonder how you are getting along and about how Mama and Papa are behaving toward you. So write to me and
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