Tzili Read Free Page A

skinny?” said the blind man, apparently encountering her narrow shoulder bones. “How old are you?”
    “Thirteen.”
    “And so skinny.” He clutched her with his other hand, too, the one he had been leaning on.
    Tzili’s body recoiled from the violence of the peasant’s embrace, and he threw her onto the ground with no more ado.
    A scream escaped her lips.
    The blind man, apparently taken aback by this reaction, hurried to stop her mouth but his hand missed its aim and fell onto her neck. Her body writhed under the blind man’s heavy hands.
    “Quiet! What’s the matter with you?” He tried to quiet her as if she were a restless animal. Tzili choked. She tried to wriggle out from under the weight.
    “What has your mother been feeding you to make you choke like that?”
    The blind man loosened his grip, apparently under the impression that Tzili was too stunned to move. With a swift, agile movement she slipped out of his hands.
    “Where are you?” he said, spreading out his hands.
    Tzili retreated on her hands and knees.
    “Where are you?” He groped on the ground. And when there was no reply, he started waving his hands in the air and cursing. His voice, which had sounded soft a moment before, grew hoarse and angry.
    For some reason Tzili did not run away. She crawled on all fours to the field. Evening fell and she curled up. The blind man’s strong hands were still imprinted on her shoulders, but the pain faded as the darkness deepened.
    Later the blind man’s son came to take him home. As soon as he heard his son approaching, the blind man began to curse. The son said that one of the shafts hadbroken on the way and he had had to go back to the village to get another cart. The father was not convinced by this story and he said: “Why couldn’t you walk?”
    “Sorry, father, I didn’t think of it. I didn’t have the sense.”
    “But for the girls you’ve got sense enough.”
    “What girls, father?” said the son innocently.
    “God damn your soul,” said the blind man and spat.

4
    B Y NOW TZILI’S memories of home were blurred. They’ve all gone, she said blankly to herself. The little food she ate appeased her hunger. She was tired. A kind of hollowness, without even the shadow of a thought, plunged her into a deep sleep.
    But her body had no rest that night. It seethed. Painful sensations woke her from time to time. What’s happening to me? she asked herself, not without resentment. She feared her body, as if something alien had taken possession of it.
    When she woke and rose to her feet it was still night. She felt her feet, and when she found nothing wrong with them she was reassured. She sat and listened attentively to her body. It was a cloudless and windless night. Above the bowed tops of the corn a dull flame gleamed. From below, the stalks looked like tall trees. She was astonished by the stillness.
    And while she stood there listening she felt a liquid oozing from her body. She felt her belly, it was tight but dry. Her muscles throbbed rhythmically. “What’s happening to me?” she said.
    When dawn broke she saw that her dress was stained with a number of bright spots of blood. She lifted up her dress. There were a couple of spots on the ground too. “I’m going to die.” The words escaped her lips.
    A number of years before, her oldest sister had cut her finger on a kitchen knife. And by the time the male nurse came, the floor was covered with dark blood stains. When he finally arrived, he clapped his hands to his head in horror. And ever since they had spoken about Blanca’s weak, wounded finger in solicitous tones.
    “I’m going to die,” she said, and all at once she rose to her feet. The sudden movement alarmed her even more. A chill ran down her spine and she shivered. The thought that soon she would be lying dead became more concrete to her than her own feet. She began to whimper like an animal. She knew that she must not scream, but fear made her reckless. “Mother,