Halimi took one drag on his cigarette and then crushed it into the ashtray.
“I’m going to bed,” he said.
Halimi retreated to the bedroom, and I rolled a cigarette and smoked it with trembling hands, sniffling by the window. I took a sip of what was left in the whiskey glass and shuddered. Then, I emptied the ashtray and put the whiskey glass in the sink. I brushed my teeth and hoped with all my heart that Halimi was already asleep. I could not handle hearing his voice.
When I crept into the bedroom, I could tell that he wasn’t asleep yet, even though he was lying on his back with his eyes closed. I went over to the closet and, with some effort, took a duvet cover from the top shelf.
“So, am I allowed to ask where you were?” asked Halimi. Still cold, but no longer the ice fields of Antarctica. I stayed standing by the closet, with the duvet cover in my arms. I decided on the less circuitous route.
“I went to Ronen’s, if you remember him.”
“You went to who?” Halimi sat up straight. Typical of Halimi not to remember the names of my exes. I could list the names of the girls I knew who had had any kind of relationship with Halimi.
“Ronen,” I said with fatigue. “The guy I was with before you. Pretzel Crumbs.” That was our code name for Ronen, the few times we had referred to him—mainly in our first couple of months together, when faint hints of his pale presence still appeared among my belongings (“What are you doing with this god-awful toothpaste?” “Oh, Pretzel Crumbs left it at my place once.”)
“Ew, you went to fuck that worm?”
“Yes,” I said wearily.
“And did you get what you wanted?” Halimi asked and turned his back to me.
“It was just the right amount of repulsive,” I said and left the room.
In the morning, Lily woke me up, jumping and excited and full of questions as to why I was sleeping in the living room. I told her that Dad snored too loud and that anyway, I wanted some air, which, I demonstrated to her, flowed more freely in the living room. Lily accepted thisexplanation without further questions. A little later, Halimi came home with a bag of fresh rolls, cottage cheese, and milk.
He didn’t look at me and acted normal with Lily—alternately laughing and scolding her. He made her breakfast while I showered, and by the time I finished, they were ready to go, her to daycare and him to the magazine. Lily wrapped her little arms around my neck and planted two kisses on each cheek, and Halimi left the house without uttering a word to me, as if I weren’t even there.
When I heard the door slam, I burst into tears. So, that was that—the love between us, the conversations, the explosive laughter, the gut-wrenching sex, the librarian who had tamed the libertine, the lounging around with Lily, the trips and reminiscing, our private lexicon—it was all gone.
I parked the car at the foot of Le Destroit, concerned that if the car stayed too long on the edge of the coastal road, someone would call and have it towed. I hoped that the trucks carrying building materials that parked there all the time wouldn’t completely cover it with dust.
I got out of the car, dressed in my medieval lady’s attire. I took my big green cotton bag, nice and inconspicuous, I hoped, and at the bottom of it, I buried a bright purple toiletry bag, a large plastic bottle full of cold water, my glasses case, spare contact lenses, and a few other essentials.
I walked over to the carob tree. The little puddle the size of a book was still there. I carefully dipped a finger into the puddle and at once felt a kind of tingling. I took out my razor, made a small cut in my finger, declared my intentions aloud, and held the Ibelin coin between my thumb and bleeding forefinger. I held my cloth bag tightly.
Relax. Stop thinking so much. Breathe. Let go.
I dipped my hand in.One, two, three.
The phosphorescent explosion in my head happened in slow motion as I was immersed in water. I was both the ever-burbling spring and also thetree from its top to its roots, and the earth to its unfathomable depths, and the sky and the sun and the moon and the stars. I relaxed, thought of nothing, breathed deep, and let go. I was borne on a huge wave, as big as a wall, and thrown to the ground.
Twang, twang, went the tender strumming of the delicate strings.Twang, twang, twang.I blinked toward the broad canopy of the tree. I heard hoofbeats or galloping, but belonging to a creature smaller than a horse, and as soon as I managed to sit upright, Brunette pounced on me, barking and licking.
“My lady, you’re here!” I heard Jean’s voice. He was sitting with his back against the tree, his lute resting at his side, and with one light step, he reached me and held my hand. The passage became more and more pleasant each time, but the awesome mystery had not diminished. I was indeed here, in the cooler air of 1240, in the shade of a carob tree with a fuller canopy than in my own time, and around us was quiet but for the twittering of birds and hum of insects.
“I did not see how … I did not hear you …” he mumbled in disbelief. I saw that he was very happy to see me, and I threw my arms around him at once without a word. The scarves fell from my hair.
Jean looked good, his amber eyes shining and his burgundy cotton robe fastened with a bright silver brooch. On his head was the hunting hat from last time, with a small, decorative white feather pinned to it. When I threw my arms around his neck, he leaned in to kiss me. My lips sunk into his soft beard with ravenous passion—afterward, I thought that maybe this had something to do with the stark difference from Halimi’s always clean-shaven face. We kissed, gasping and with friction that produced sparks, and Brunette jumped around and barked happily. But my Crusader nobleman, as I had already noted more than once, was a calculated and considerate person, master of his urges. He broke away from me, albeit with some difficulty, and glanced back, past the canopy.
“One of the guards might come at any moment,” he said, still a little wild-eyed. “Better to not begin our rendezvous with a disaster.”
We both cleared our throats, giggled, and looked more intently at each other. Finally, he shook his head and said in a tone of urgency, “This is great luck, or mercy, that you turned up here now. I nearly despaired. Unfortunately, I cannot stay with you as long as I wish this time.”
“Why not?” I asked with evident disappointment.
“I must ride to Acre … in fact, I should have departed yesterday, but I could not break my promise to meet you. When you delayed today, I thought to leave you a letter, but I did not know where to hide it.”
“But must you leave at once?” I asked, trying to control my reaction.
