the zahir | Page 5

stopped by two
boys just arrived from Toulouse who are looking for a particular shop; they have asked
several other people, but no one understands what they say. What�s going on? Have they
changed languages on the Champs-Elys�es in the twenty-four hours since I was arrested?
Tourism and money can perform miracles, but how come I haven�t noticed this before? It
has obviously been a long time since Esther and I met here to drink hot chocolate, even
though we have each been away and come back several times during that period. There is
always something more important. There is always some unpostponable appointment.
Yes, my love, we�ll have that hot chocolate next time, come back soon; I�ve got a really
important interview today and won�t be able to pick you up at the airport, take a taxi; my
cell phone�s on, call me if there�s anything urgent; otherwise, I�ll see you tonight.
My cell phone! I take it out of my pocket and immediately turn it on; it rings several
times, and each time my heart turns over. On the tiny screen I see the names of the people
who have been trying to get in touch with me, but reply to none of them. I hope for
someone �unidentified� to appear, because that would be she, since only about twenty
people know my number and have sworn not to pass it on. It doesn�t appear, only the
numbers of friends or trusted colleagues. They must be eager to know what happened,
they want to help (but how?), to ask if I need anything.
The telephone keeps ringing. Should I answer it? Should I arrange to meet up with some
of these people?
I decide to remain alone until I�ve managed to work out what is going on.
I reach the H�tel Bristol, which Esther always described as one of the few hotels in Paris
where customers are treated like guests rather than homeless people in search of shelter. I
am greeted as if I were a friend of the family; I choose a table next to an exquisite clock; I
listen to the piano and look out at the garden.
I need to be practical, to study the options; after all, life goes on. I am not the first nor
will I be the last man whose wife has left him, but did it have to happen on a sunny day,
with everyone in the street smiling and children singing, with the first signs of spring just
beginning to show, the sun shining, and drivers stopping at pedestrian crossings?
I pick up a napkin. I�m going to get these ideas out of my head and put them down on
paper. Let�s leave sentiment to one side and see what I should do:
(a) Consider the possibility that she really has been kidnapped and that her life is in
danger at this very moment, and that I, as her husband and constant companion, must
therefore move heaven and earth to find her.
Response to this possibility: she took her passport with her. The police don�t know this,
but she also took several other personal items with her, among them a wallet containing
images of various patron saints which she always carries with her whenever she goes
abroad. She also withdrew money from her bank.
Conclusion: she was clearly preparing to leave.
(b) Consider the possibility that she believed a promise someone gave her and it turned
out to be a trap.
Response: she had often put herself in dangerous situations before; it was part of her job,
but she always warned me when she did so, because I was the only person she could trust
completely. She would tell me where she was going to be, who she was going to see
(although, so as not to put me at risk, she usually used the person�s nom de guerre), and
what I should do if she did not return by a certain time.
Conclusion: she was not planning a meeting with one of her informants.
(c) Consider the possibility that she has met another man.
Response: there is no response. Of all the hypotheses, this is the only one that makes any
sense. And yet I can�t accept it, I can�t accept that she would leave like that, without
giving me a reason. Both Esther and I have always prided ourselves on confronting all
life�s difficulties together. We suffered, but we never lied to each other, although it was
part of the rules of the game not to mention any extramarital affairs. I was aware that she
had changed a lot since meeting this fellow Mikhail, but did that justify ending a
marriage that has lasted ten years?
Even if she had slept with him and fallen in love, wouldn�t she weigh in the balance all
the time that we had spent together and everything we had conquered before setting off
on an adventure from which there was no turning back? She was free to travel whenever
she wanted to, she lived surrounded by men, soldiers who hadn�t seen a woman in ages,
but I never asked any