“I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t thought about it. Actually, you know what? Yes. Why not? Only it won’t do you any good, because I’m not really living here any more. Besides, there are times when I feel like choking the two of you. I mean strangling you both slowly but surely with my own hands. Or skewering you on a bayonet, just as my brother skewered those Jordanians, which won him a medal. But okay. Let’s say we’re friends. Even more than that. I, for instance, intend to leave you all my clothes, except for what will go into a small suitcase. No suitcase. A knapsack. And my chess set and chess journals. And my parents at no extra charge. And my screwdrivers and my hammer and my pliers. And my rake and my pitchfork, so that when summer comes you can make her the flower beds in the garden that she likes. They’re all yours. Don’t mention it. Even Tia. Maybe my shaving kit too, because I feel like growing a beard. What else would you like? Just say the word. My toothbrush maybe?”

“Thanks.”

“And remember that saying of yours I’ve heard at least a thousand times, ‘He who forgets, murder abets.’

“Yoni, listen to me. I … seriously, I want you to know that I’ll never disappoint you. Not ever.”

“Cool it, philosopher. Stop sounding like Memorial Day and put some water on for tea. No, wait a minute. Who wants tea? Go to the third shelf over there, behind those books, and bring me that bottle of whisky Rimona won at the Hanukkah raffle. We’ll have a drink before she gets back. Do you love her?”

“Look, Yoni, it’s like this: I … I mean, we—”

“Forget it! I wasn’t looking for an answer. On the whole, maybe it’s time you shut up a little, Azariah. All day long all you do is talk. At six in the morning in the tractor shed you’re already making speeches about justice with a capital J—what it is, where to find it, what all those philosophers have said about it. Why don’t you just drop it. You know what? I’ll tell you once and for all where justice is. It quit the cabinet and the Knesset long ago. Now it’s about to stop being secretary of the kibbutz. And it’s already eating its heart out. Listen, what goes on between the two of you is none of my goddamn business. Because I’m clearing out of here tomorrow. You heard me. Taking off. That’s it. What does it say in that English book?”