We say:

"It's certainly an illness that medicine can cure."

She says:

"Maybe. But how can you go to a doctor without money? Anyway, there aren't any doctors. They're all at the front." We ask:

"And what about your ears? Do they hurt?" "No, I don't have any problem with my ears. And I don't think my mother has either. She pretends not to hear anything, that suits her when I ask her questions."

Exercise in Blindness and Deafness

One of us pretends to be blind, the other deaf. To begin with, by way of training, the blind one ties one of Grandmother's black shawls over his eyes and the deaf one stuffs his ears with grass. The shawl smells bad, like Grandmother.

We hold hands and go out walking during air raids, when people are hiding in their cellars and the streets are deserted.

The deaf one describes what he sees:

"The street is long and straight. It is lined with low singlestory houses. They are white, gray, pink, yellow, and blue. At the end of the street, I can see a park with trees and a fountain. The sky is blue, with a few white clouds. I can see planes. Five bombers. They are flying low."

The blind one talks slowly so that the deaf one can read his lips:

"I can hear the planes. They are making a deep sputtering noise. Their engines are laboring. They are full of bombs. Now they've passed over. I can hear the birds again. Otherwise everything is quiet."

The deaf one reads the blind one's lips and answers:

"Yes, the street is empty."

The blind one says:

"Not for long. I can hear footsteps in the side street on the left."

The deaf one says:

"You're right. It's a man."

The blind one asks:

"What is he like?"

The deaf one answers:

"Like all of them. Poor, old."

The blind one says:

"I know. I recognize old men's footsteps. I can also hear that he's barefoot, so he's poor."