A Tale of Love and Darkness - Amos Oz [162]
Teacher Isabella was also a cat herder. Wherever she went, she was surrounded by a flock of admiring cats that got under her feet, clung to the hem of her dress, impeded her progress, and almost tripped her up, so devoted were they to her. They were of every possible color, and they would claw their way up her dress and lie down on her broad shoulders, curl up in the book basket, settle like broody hens on her shoes, and fight among themselves with desperate wails for the privilege of snuggling in her bosom. In her classroom there were more cats than pupils, and they kept perfectly quiet so as not to disturb the students; as tame as dogs, as well brought up as young ladies from good families, they sat on her desk, on her lap, on our little laps, on our satchels, on the windowsill and the box that held equipment for PE, art, and crafts.
Sometimes Teacher Isabella reprimanded the cats or issued orders. She would wave her finger at one or another of them and threaten to tweak its ears or pull its tail out if it did not improve its behavior instantly. The cats, for their part, always obeyed her promptly, unconditionally, and without a murmur. "Zerubbabel, you should be ashamed of yourself!" she would suddenly shout. Immediately some poor wretch would detach himself from the huddled mass on the rug beside her desk and creep away in disgrace, his belly almost touching the floor, his tail between his legs and his ears pressed back, making his way to the corner of the room. All eyes—children's and cats' alike—were fixed on him, witnessing his disgrace. So the accused would crawl into the corner, miserable, humiliated, ashamed of himself, repenting his sins, and perhaps hoping humbly up to the last minute for some miraculous reprieve.
From the corner the poor thing sent us a heartrending look of guilt and supplication.
"You child of the muck heap!" Teacher Isabella snarled at him contemptuously, and then she would pardon him with a wave of her hand:
"All right. That's enough. You can come back now. But just remember that if I catch you once more—"
She had no need to finish her sentence, because the pardoned criminal was already dancing toward her like a suitor, determined to make her head spin with his charms, barely mastering his joy, tail erect, ears pricked forward, with a spring in the pads of his dainty paws, aware of the secret power of his charm and using it to heartbreaking effect, his whiskers gleaming, his coat shiny and bristling slightly, and with a flicker of sanctimonious feline slyness in his glowing eyes, as though he were winking at us while swearing that from now on there would be no more pious or upright cat than he.
Teacher Isabella's cats were schooled to lead productive lives, and indeed they were useful cats. She had trained them to bring her a pencil, some chalk, or a pair of socks from the closet, or to retrieve a stray teaspoon that was lurking under some piece of furniture; to stand at the window and give a wail of recognition if an acquaintance approached, but to issue a cry of alarm at the approach of a stranger. (Most of these wonders we did not witness with our own eyes, but we believed her. We would have believed her if she had told us that her cats could solve crossword puzzles.)
As for Mr. Nahlieli, Teacher Isabella's little husband, we hardly ever saw him. He had usually gone to work before we arrived, and if for any reason he was at home, he had to stay in the kitchen and do his duty there quietly during school hours. If it had not been for the fact that both we and he occasionally had permission to go to the toilet, we would never have discovered that Mr. Nahlieli was actually