The young man flashed a quick, overly broad smile that vanished at once, replied good evening in a vaguely foreign accent, and inquired where he might find the head of the kibbutz.

“You mean the secretary of the kibbutz, The secretary is sick,” said Etan R. in his imperturbably slow voice.

“Of course,” replied the young man, as if the merest child would have known that kibbutz secretaries were prone to ill health. “Of course,” he repeated. “I understand quite well and wish him a speedy recovery. But responsibility on the kibbutz, if I’m not mistaken, is collective. There must be a deputy, or someone on temporary duty.”

Etan R. nodded his massive head several times. He was sufficiently amused to be on the verge of smiling, but his amusement faded when he caught a better glimpse of the young man’s face with its sharp green look bordering equally on gaiety and despair, the eyes nervously blinking. There was, in fact, something tense, frightened, and, at the same time, fawning about his whole demeanor, something almost cunningly submissive. Etan R. refrained from smiling, and said in a harsh military voice, “All right, then. What can I do for you.” This time there was not even the hint of a question.

The young man did not reply at once, as if he had instantly grasped that the secret of Etan’s superiority lay in delaying one’s answer and had decided to play the same game himself. He hesitated, shifting his guitar case from his right hand to his left. Then, with an abruptly decisive movement, he stretched his hand and said:

“Hello there. I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Azariah Gitlin. I’d like to stay here. I mean live here. The only justice left today is on the kibbutz. You won’t find it anywhere else. I’d like to live here.”

Etan had no choice but to grasp the hand held out to him.

Azariah Gitlin responded at once.

“Look, comrade, I don’t want to be misunderstood from the start. I’m definitely not one of those people who come to a kibbutz with all kinds of personal problems and expect to find heaven on earth. But you people still relate to each other. Everywhere else in the world there’s nothing but hatred and envy and cruelty. That’s why I’ve come. I want to join you and change my life for the better. And in relating to others, I believe, one relates better to one’s own inner self. So I would like, if I may, to speak to whoever is in charge.”