The Extra by A. B. Yehoshua Read Free Book Online

Shaya, who has become a total fanatic, but I’m sure she knew, or at least guessed and looked the other way. It brought her peace and quiet. The Pomerantzes were always a respectable family, not extreme. When you played music on Shabbat, Nogaleh, they didn’t get angry.”
    â€œWell, bottom line, what am I supposed to do now? Not only keep watch on the apartment, but also deal with crazy Orthodox children?”
    â€œNo, not at all. Don’t let them in, period,” says Honi. “Ima took pity on them, that was a mistake, but you don’t need to do that. Just take the key away from them.”
    â€œKey? What key?”
    â€œThey apparently walked off with my spare key,” the mother says defensively.
    â€œThen you should call the police.”
    â€œPolice?” The mother is taken aback. “How can you talk that way, Nogaleh? These are Pomerantz’s grandchildren, Shaya’s unfortunate kids. We should call the cops to lock them up? What’s wrong with you?”
    â€œNot lock them up, just take away the key.”
    â€œWe’ll take the key, don’t you worry. Honi will phone Mrs. Pomerantz, she’ll take the key from them. Just lock the bathroom window at night, that’s all. It’s not so hard.”

Eleven
    H ONI DROVE HIS SISTER to the bus station, but when he found out there’d be a long wait for the next bus, he offered to drive her to Jerusalem.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” she again protested. “Go back to your wife and children. You’re addicted to this experiment. You’ve fallen in love with it.”
    â€œSo don’t ruin it.”
    â€œWhy would I ruin it?”
    He took out a few bills from his wallet.
    â€œHere, for the time being, just for now.”
    â€œDon’t you dare . . .”
    â€œBut you won’t be able to last for three months without additional income. That way you’ll trip me up with your stubbornness and pride. Ima is also worried.”
    â€œI have my own money, and if I run out, you said you could find me work.”
    â€œVery good. So what I’m giving you now is an advance on your first paycheck. Please don’t say no. I won’t be able to rest easy if I know you’re going back to Jerusalem without enough money.”
    She hesitates. In the evening darkness, by the desolate bus station, her brother grows older by the minute. His hair has gone gray, and though no one ever said he resembled his late father, the old man’s look has begun to flicker in his eyes.
    She sighs and strokes his arm.
    â€œIt’s strange to come back home and be an extra. Where do I go, anyway? Who do I talk to?”
    â€œNobody. I’ll take care of everything. They’ll be in touch with you and work it out. I heard about a movie about foreign workers or refugees, and they need a lot of extras there. I’ll handle it all.”
    Aboard the bus, racing along the highway to Jerusalem, her anxiety surfaces: the orchestra will perform the Mozart double concerto without her. I should have asked for clearer assurance that they will not forget me, she says to herself, gently extending her arms to the seat in front, as if it were the harp she will clasp to her breast when the conductor gives her the sign.
    A taxi takes her to Rashi Street, but the driver seems hesitant. “You sure this is your address?”
    â€œFor now,” she says blithely, and hurries out.
    The hour is late, there are few cars in the street, a human presence prevails. People exit and enter the apartment buildings.
    By the gate of their building an old man stands in the dark, waving to her with his hat.
    â€œAre you Noga?”
    He pronounces her name softly, though they have never met. She reckons this is the lawyer who lies in wait to liberate the apartment.
    â€œFor now,” she answers cheerfully.
    â€œBut you live abroad, in Holland.”
    â€œFor now,” she repeats, liking the