“Some old clothing I can tear up?”
“Yes, I have some rags. Under the sink.”
Ra rummaged around and pul ed out a T-shirt I had bought at a peace event, with a picture of a dove made of our ags and Palestinian flags. I used it for washing up because it was too big on me.
He cut two strips from the bot om of the shirt. Then he turned o al the lights in the house and we sat on the living room oor, on the carpet. Rafi blindfolded himself, and told me to do the same.
“Okay,” he said. “We take turns. We say what we’re afraid of, and why. I’l go rst. I’m afraid of nightmares, because I’m afraid of being afraid.”
“I’m afraid of mice.”
“You have to say why.”
“I’m afraid of mice because they’re creepy and ugly.”
“I’m afraid of fal ing from an airplane because there’s nothing to hold on to.”
“I’m afraid of get ing cancer because I don’t want to go through chemotherapy.”
“I’m afraid of get ing cancer because it’s painful and I don’t want to die.”
“I’m afraid of tunnels and narrow places and being stuck somewhere I can’t get out of. I’m afraid of being in a car that fal s o a bridge and fil s with water and I can’t get out. Because … I’m neurotic.”
“You need a bet er reason,” Rafi said.
“Because I don’t want to be trapped.”
“I’m afraid of my feelings for you because they’re so strong and I could lose you.”
“I’m afraid of you, because you don’t belong in my life.”
“I’m afraid of witches because they have magical powers.”
“You believe in witches?”
“No questions al owed, but no.”
“I’m afraid of pens that don’t work, pencils that aren’t sharpened, tra c lights that don’t work, telephones that don’t work, because I need things to go smoothly.”
“I’m afraid of get ing blown up because I’m too young to die and my daughter needs me and the kids need me and I love you.”
“I’m afraid of your love. I’m afraid of loving you. I’m afraid of losing Daniel forever. Because …because I’m afraid, that’s al .”
“I’m afraid of a nuclear war because of the horror.”
“I’m afraid of a nuclear war because of the horror.”
“I’m afraid of a nuclear war because of the horror.”
“I’m afraid of old age and not being able to get it up anymore because I’l be embarrassed and I’l feel like a loser.”
“I’m afraid of my breasts sagging and not having my period and not having a child, ever. Because I want a child.”
“I’m afraid of my mean side because I don’t like it.”
“I’m afraid of my mean side because I always regret it afterward.”
“I’m afraid of not being a good enough father. Because my daughter deserves the best.”
“I’m afraid of this game. I’m afraid of not seeing and not understanding and not knowing. I want to stop.”
“I’m afraid of webbed hands and people with tails because they’re going to come in the middle of the night to get me.”
“I’m afraid of the dark because there could be monsters. I want to stop,” I said.
“I’m afraid of good things because of when they end.”
“I’m afraid of good things because I don’t deserve them. Because I let Daniel slip through my ngers. Because I didn’t go into his room right away and I let everyone bul y me and I failed him completely. I let him down, it’s al my fault. He fought for me, when I had my miscarriage he fought with everyone in the entire hospital, he never gave up, but I didn’t ght for him. I was a wimp, I couldn’t stand up to them for his sake. It’s my fault. When he didn’t see me, day after day, he must have thought I’d deserted him, that it was because of how he looked. Or maybe he thought I came in while he was sleeping and that I was so horrified that I stayed away and that I’d decided to leave him and that’s why he ran away. And now I’m afraid I’l never nd him, I’m afraid he never saw my ads or my interviews and he doesn’t know I want him more than anything in the world. I’m afraid of not knowing the future and also of being alone and also of my life, which I hate, I hate it, I hate it.”
I tore of my blindfold. “I’m tired of helping everyone,” I said.
“I’m tired of helping everyone, too.”
“I want to be selfish.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s be selfish,” I said.
“Okay.”
