and clung to her. At that moment her smell reached his nostrils. She felt it immediately. She stopped crying. The first stripe of dawn was visible in the sky, as if someone had opened a big box to look inside. Wasserman: “And the truth is, Herr Neigel, it would be difficult to describe what took place there between him and her in words … these things are better left unsaid … and I, I am not yet divested of modesty … and all the same I will tell you, because only I am left to tell the tale.” And he described how Hannah Zeitrin picked Kazik up in her arms like a baby. She sniffed him like an animal, and closed her eyes with a pleasure both wild and slatternly, but also innocent. Then she took off his wet diaper and cast it far away. Slowly she began to run the little man over her body—Wasserman: “As though she were informing him of every hair and limb and sinew, and we could see clearly now that that which was meant to happen was indeed happening, that is … you see … in other words, his smitchick became erect as a little lulav, and he began to pant and sweat and turn red, and she, Mrs. Zeitrin, that is, kissed him with the kisses of her mouth on his eyes and lips, and then she kissed him all over his body, even ‘there’ she kissed him, shamelessly, and never did she open her eyes, she was so deeply in love, in a dream, for then she stood up her full height on the hard ground and set him down on a bale of hay, on her hunger-swollen belly, and Kazik, though he never studied in a cheder, knew what deeds were his to perform … Ai, how they were washed with streams of sweat, how they glimmered and shone in the moonlight, and were reflected in the two pairs of glasses worn by Mr. Yedidya Munin, who never stopped fiddling with himself and whispering obscenely, for then the woman spread her legs, ai, Herr Neigel, spread them wide and, with all the strength in her arms, thrust him ‘there,’ deep inside her.” Munin: “Och!!!” Wasserman: “And we could hardly see him anymore, Herr Neigel! Only his tiny toes peeked out, tensing in convulsions, for then she began to give birth to him, in pleasure and travail, I know because I saw her face, which looked blissful and full of longing and subtle beauty, and there below was little Kazik, thrashing around, crashingagainst the fleshy ramparts of her thighs, till at last we heard a kind of moan. For the first time, Hcrr Neigel, I realized how great is the anguish in the small sound men and women alike make at such intimate times, moments of carnal joy … the moaning of despair, steeped in torment, the groaning of a secret intelligence, ejaculated in a spasm and instantly forgotten …” Fried: “And then it happened! That barbarous crime! Ach, the murderer!” Marcus: “Mrs. Zeitrin suddenly pulled out—nobody saw from where, maybe from her blond wig—a small and very sharp instrument, and began stabbing Kazik in the back with all her might, with all her hatred, again and again—” Hannah Zeitrin: “This is for love. And this is for hope. And this is for the joy of life. And this is for renewal. And this is for creation. And this is for the power to forget. And this is for faith. And this is for illusion. And this is for the damned optimism you implanted in us. And this is for—” Harotian: “I was the first to understand, and I jumped on her and pulled the knife out of her hand. She stabbed me here and here. No matter, it wasn’t that bad. The important thing is, the little one was all right” Otto: “Poor woman, what have you done?” Malkiel Zeidman: “I! I! I feel myself again! What is happening here?!” Fried: “Kazik, my Kazik.” Kazik cried very hard. Little jets of time spurted from his wounds. His back was a fountain. Otto asked Fried to hurry and dress the wounds, “so he won’t run out.” But by the time Fried tore his shirt off the branches on his body [see under: ECZEMA], the wounds had stopped flowing and were beginning to close. Otto held the little knife Hannah had hidden for many months in her yellow wig. Only then did the artists understand the strong silent woman’s daring plot. Otto weighed the knife in his hand. He thought a moment and said, “Take it, Hannah. It’s yours, after all.” Fried: “Otto, are you mad?!” Otto: “We will not interfere with the work of a real artist, right, Albert?” Fried, stammering and choking: “But … choleria! She’s dangerous! You saw for yourself!” Otto: “She’s dangerous only to Him. And He is not one of us.” He handed her the knife, and she, with the look of a suspicious animal, hid it quickly in her wig. The artists turned to leave, sad and devastated. Kazik sobbed a while longer, but he had already forgotten his pain. Yet strangely enough, he did not forget his passion for her. He kept turning around with the desire to go back to her. He gripped his penis and began to masturbate [see under: MASTURBATION]. He did not yet fully comprehend the extent of his loss.
ZAYAR
PAINTER
An artist who engages in painting.
Kazik’s vocation in the years that followed his relationship with HANNAH ZEITRIN [q.v.]. This chapter of his life comes strictly from the imagination of Obersturmbannführer Neigel. There is no doubt that what occurred during his LEAVE [q.v.] in Munich [see under: CATASTROPHE] was a determining factor in this. Wasserman’s guess is that after losing both his conviction in his work and “mission,” and the love of his wife, or the hope of ever returning to her, Neigel began to pour himself
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