The Collected Stories

than of the cold in winter and the nettles in summer. Occasionally, when he was in a gentler temper, Zemach promised that he would come to her as husband to wife. He even said that he would like to be the father of her children. But when? He kept on searching for new misdeeds in both of them. Akhsa grew weaker from day to day. The shrouds on the rope and the headstones in the graveyard seemed to beckon her. She made Zemach vow that he would recite the Kaddish over her grave.
    On a hot day in the month of Tammuz, Akhsa went to gather sorrel leaves from the pasture that bordered the river. She had fasted all day long and she wanted to cook schav for herself and Zemach for their evening meal. In the middle of her gathering she was overcome by exhaustion. She stretched out on the grass and dozed off, intending to rest only a quarter of an hour. But her mind went blank and her legs turned to stone. She fell into a deep sleep. When she opened her eyes, night had fallen. The sky was overcast, the air heavy with humidity. There was a storm coming. The earth steamed with the scent of grass and herbs, and it made Akhsa’s head reel. In the darkness she found her basket, but it was empty. A goat or cow had eaten her sorrel. Suddenly she remembered her childhood, when she was pampered by her grandparents, dressed in velvet and silk, and served by maids and butlers. Now coughing choked her, her forehead was hot, and chills flashed through her spine. Since the moon did not shine and the stars were obscured, she scarcely knew her way. Her bare feet stepped on thorns and cow pats. “What a trap I have fallen into!” something cried out in her. She came to a tree and stopped to rest. At that moment she saw her grandfather. His white beard glowed in the darkness. She recognized his high forehead, his benign smile, and the loving kindness of his gaze. She called out, “Grandfather!” And in a second her face was washed with tears.
    “I know everything,” her grandfather said. “Your tribulations and your grief.”
    “Grandfather, what shall I do?”
    “My daughter, your ordeal is over. We are waiting for you—I, Grandmother, all who love you. Holy angels will come to meet you.”
    “When, Grandfather?”
    In that instant the image dissolved. Only the darkness remained. Akhsa felt her way home like someone blind. Finally, she reached her hut. As she opened the door she could feel that Zemach was there. He sat on the floor and his eyes were like two coals. He called out, “It’s you?”
    “Yes, Zemach.”
    “Why were you so long? Because of you I couldn’t say my evening prayers in peace. You confused my thoughts.”
    “Forgive me, Zemach. I was tired and I fell asleep in the pasture.”
    “Liar! Convert! Scum!” Zemach screeched. “I searched for you in the pasture. You were whoring with a shepherd.”
    “What are you saying? God forbid!”
    “Tell me the truth!” He jumped up and began to shake her. “Bitch! Demon! Lilith!”
    Zemach had never acted so wildly. Akhsa said to him, “Zemach, my husband, I am faithful to you. I fell asleep on the grass. On the way home I saw my grandfather. My time is up.” She was seized with such weakness that she sank to the floor.
    Zemach’s wrath vanished immediately. A mournful wail broke from him. “Sacred soul, where will I be without you? You are a saint. Forgive me my harshness. It was because of my love. I wanted to cleanse you so that you could sit in Paradise with the Holy Mothers.”
    “As I deserve, so shall I sit.”
    “Why should this happen to you? Is there no justice in Heaven?” And Zemach wailed in the voice that terrified her. He beat his head against the wall.
    The next morning Akhsa did not rise from her bed. Zemach brought porridge he had cooked for her on the tripod. When he fed it to her, it spilled out of her mouth. Zemach fetched the town healer, but the healer did not know what to do. The women of the Burial Society came. Akhsa lay in a state of utter weakness. Her life was draining away. In the middle of the day Zemach went on foot to the town of Jaroslaw to bring a doctor. Evening came and he had not returned. That morning the rabbi’s wife had sent a pillow to Akhsa. It was the first time in years she had slept on a pillow. Toward evening, the Burial Society women went home to their families and Akhsa remained alone. A wick burned in a dish of oil. A tepid breeze came through the open window. The moon did not shine, but the stars glittered.