Two She-Bears Read Online Free PDF Page A

us in the moshava. Receiving guests properly. They wanted to establish a Jewish settlement here, and we turned out to be an Arab village. With hospitality, clans, honor, land, revenge. And after four and a half generations everyone here is related, and every family has a lemon tree in the garden, grapes and pomegranates and figs, and a big pecan tree is a must. Except that with us it’s usually the breed of pomegranate called Wonderful, and with Arabs it’s a sweet pomegranate. And doves on the roof and chickens in the yard. Sorry, I made a mistake before, I said “pecan,” but at our house the pecan is a mulberry. And also here underneath every house is a cache of weapons, going back to the Turkish times, except we don’t fire in the air at weddings.
    Yes, yes, you heard right. Stockpiles of weapons. We have hunting rifles and war booty weapons, all kinds of antiques. My grandfather had an old Czech rifle, from before the days of the State. It’s lucky he’s dead. If he heard me calling his Mauser a Czech rifle, he’d be horrified. “There’s no such thing as a Czech rifle!” he once yelled at me. “What those morons here call a Czech rifle is a Mauser, which is German.”
    I’m sorry, Varda, you’re still standing. Sit, please, sit. Not here. Sit on this chair so you can see me from my prettier side. You still haven’t told me the exact topic, the title of your research.
    Varda: “Issues of Gender in the Moshavot of the Baron.”
    Ruta: A fine title.
    Varda: I’ve already spoken with a few people here, older than you, and they all said that your grandfather—Ze’ev Tavori, is that correct?—that there are some very interesting stories about him.
    Ruta: They’re right. Also about my grandmother, by the way, but to hear them you don’t need me. There are many big mouths around here, plenty of good gossipy folks who know everything about everyone else. And I also warn you in advance that I am perhaps the wrong person for your research.
    Varda: Why?
    Ruta: First of all, because my grandfather did not like talking about certain acts and certain periods, and I’m the same way. Not everything should be revealed. Perhaps what interests you most is what I will keep secret. Second, because at best I can provide only secondhand testimony, tell other people’s stories, which means you will have to trust my memory and also the memory of whoever told me stories.
    Varda: How much time can you give me?
    Ruta: Today about two hours, and I’ve already wasted half of it for you with nonsense. But if you need more meetings, no problem. Women should help one another, and here we have a cow who wants to nurse and one who wants to suckle.
    Varda: That’s good of you. Not everyone has time, and even fewer have patience.
    Ruta: That I do have. If somebody is finally willing to listen to me, I won’t tell them no. I’ll talk and I’ll talk and I’ll talk, a cornucopia of stories, my cup runneth over. You’ll feel like you’re my best friend, and I’ll feel that at last I have such a friend. This wide, pretty mouth, the mouth that was made for kissing—that’s what my first husband used to say—this mouth will tell stories, all right, but not everything.
    Varda: I’m sorry, I didn’t know.
    Ruta: Didn’t know what?
    Varda: You said “my first husband,” that you’re a widow…maybe…
    Ruta: You might say that I was a widow, for a certain period of time. Whatever. So you’re actually a Ph.D., or still a student?
    Varda: Thanks for the compliment, but I got my doctorate a number of years ago.
    Ruta: The eyes of Dr. Canetti wander in space, landing upon the black stone in the wall of the Tavori family home.
    Varda: Sorry? I don’t understand.
    Ruta: You’re looking at the black stone in our wall.
    Varda: Yes, it’s interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it. A black stone in the middle of a white wall, in a living room.
    Ruta: It’s basalt from the Galilee, from the place where my grandfather, the