A Life Worth Living (4 page)

“This is your home,” her mother said.

“You know what I mean. Can I call
New York?”

“I’m sorry, international phone service wasn’t installed. But you can buy a phone card from the
makolet
,” Henny offered.

“What about Internet? Is that set up?” Gaby asked.

“Oh, I didn’t think you had a computer,” Henny said apologetically.

“We don’t,” Mrs. Kupfer said. “It’s just an unnecessary expense.”

“But feel free to come over anytime you want and use my computer,” Henny said quickly, seeing Gaby’s disappointed face.

Gaby bit her lip, reluctant to say thank you for this additional kindness on top of all the others. How much charity could a person accept before they start feeling like someone’s ticket to heaven?

“Okay, so what else?” Henny rummaged around her oversized purple leather handbag and came up with a stapled sheaf of papers. “Here is a list of all the families in Shiloh. There are some important emergency numbers on the back.”

Gaby flipped through the pages. The names were listed in English and Hebrew. On the back was the number for
Shiloh security and for the nearby IDF base.

She outlined the emergency numbers with her finger. If something happened, how quickly could their protectors come to rescue them? She would have to go to the phone, find the number, call them, and then wait for the soldiers to burst through the door and save them from whatever hairy situation
they found themselves in. There was no way help could come in time to make a difference. She thought of the gruesome pictures of the Fogel family from Itamar. Stabbed in their beds by two Palestinian teenagers.

“Are we gonna have a gun?” she asked.

“Do you know how to use one?” Henny chuckled, apparently amused at the idea of Gaby carrying a gun.

“I could learn. If my mother lets me join the army.”

“Gaby, I already told you! I sent in your
p’tor
to the rabbinate a long time ago. You were already excused from army service.”

“But I really want to go. It would be so much fun.” Gaby sat down on a chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“We’ll find something else for you to do. Let’s talk about this later.” Her mother turned back to Henny, who was discussing where to buy groceries and which neighbors had volunteered to bring over dinner later that day and for the rest of the week.

Ignored, Gaby got up from the chair and went to inspect the rest of the house. Three small rooms opened up off the hallway, each furnished with a large wooden armoire and twin-sized bed. Rafi was already unpacking his suitcases in the middle one, a small square room that boasted an admittedly gorgeous mountain landscape view.

Gaby stood in the middle of the room next to Rafi’s. The white paint on the walls was dirty and peeling, and when she switched on the light, the naked bulb overhead flickered on, then immediately blew out. The room was small, with just enough space for the closet-like armoire and a bare bed with a thin mattress, sans headboard, the kind you’d expect to find in a low-budget sleepaway camp. Gaby did not enjoy the one summer she had spent at camp, courtesy of the generosity of parents from her sixth grade class. She had felt so alone, with her hand-me-down clothes and empty canteen account. She remembered meeting her mother in tears on visiting day, begging to go home. Her mother had insisted she finish off the remainder of the month.

But despite the painful memories triggered by the thin mattress, the room had some potential. It had two windows, and a shaggy, leafy tree was visible right outside. Gaby had seen worse. With some paint and maybe a funky light fixture, this wouldn’t be such a bad room. She might even be able to fit in a desk if she could find one.

She went to go find her mother, who was still talking with Henny.

“Ma, do you think I could paint my room?”

“That’s sounds like a great idea!” Mrs. Kupfer gave her a relieved look. “While you’re at it, you could paint the whole house. We could use some color to brighten up this place a bit. I’m sure if Rafi helped, it wouldn’t take any time at all.”

“Oh, you know what would be a good idea?” Henny added. “We’ll have to go into
Jerusalem tomorrow to get your
teudot zehut
, that’s your Israeli IDs. We can stop into a Tambour after we’re done. Tambour is an Israeli chain of hardware stores,” she explained to Gaby. “We should leave around nine,” she told Mrs. Kupfer.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be free,” Gaby said to no one in particular. She headed back to her room to start unpacking, feeling somewhat more positive now that she thought up the painting idea.

Later that night, after all nine of the suitcases were unpacked, and dinner was delivered by a warm, bubbly neighbor who spoke only Hebrew, but managed to kiss all three of them multiple times, Gaby took a shower with leftover pink Suave shampoo and a white bar of Ivory soap and got into bed. She pulled her comforter over her head and took a deep breath. It still smelled like home, although she never considered their old apartment on East 16th street to be her real home. It was hard to remember the last time she had felt at home somewhere.

She stroked the comforter with her hand and reflected on the crazy fact that only a few hours earlier she had been sleeping on the same couch with Benny, and now…he couldn’t be further away. Maybe Henny would let her use the computer tomorrow. Then she could send him a message and see what was up.

Gaby swiped one more coat of paint on the windowsill and sat back down to take a look. She had done a pretty good job, if she said so herself. The walls were painted a pretty mauve color, and the windows, moldings, and ceiling were all in French vanilla. The contrast was pretty and feminine, and the fluted metal ceiling fixture that Henny had found for her in a neighbor’s shed was just eighties-style enough to be cool.

“…tell me what you want from me…” One Republic sang in the background on her American phone. It was useless for accessing data or making phone calls, but she was still able to play her stored music.

Gaby stretched and looked at the time on her phone. She had been painting for over five hours. It was time to get out of the house.

She went to check on Rafi, but he wasn’t in his room. Knocking on her mother’s door to find out where Rafi had gone, she found Mrs. Kupfer sitting in bed, hunched over a large black laptop.

“Mommy! Oh my God! Where did you get that laptop from?”

Mrs. Kupfer looked up guiltily. “It doesn’t have internet access.”

“Okay, but where did you get it from?”

“Shimmy is letting me work some hours from here. I will go to Henny when I need to e-mail him files.” Shimmy was Mrs. Kupfer’s boss in New York. Gaby had thought her mother had quit her bookkeeping job, but apparently she had not.

“Wow, that’s nice of him.” Gaby sat down at the edge of her mother’s bed. “What hours will you be working for him?”

“Every evening from five to ten.”

Gaby calculated quickly. Together with her day job at the daycare center, her mother would basically be working around the clock. “How are you going to manage working so many hours?”

“Well, the arrangement is tentative, but hopefully it’ll work out. I’ll need you two to help out around here.”

As usual. “Are you’re really not gonna get Internet? That doesn’t seem so efficient.”

Her mother took a deep breath and placed a conciliatory hand on Gaby’s arm. “Listen, Gaby, I will most likely will get an Internet connection next week, but you can’t use this laptop. It’s for work only.”

“I don’t believe you! Why do you have to be so mean? What do you think I’m gonna do with it already?” Gaby stormed out of her mother’s bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Apparently, her mother had been listening to those anti-internet lectures. As if the lack of internet would magically transform her into a stereotypical Flatbush girl, desperate to get married, working as a therapist, and if she were worthy enough, perhaps she would have the honor of supporting a husband who sat and learned all day.

She’d choose internet access over a future like that. And right now, in her messy life, when she didn’t know if Benny had responded to any of her messages she left him that morning from Henny’s computer, she needed internet.

If Benny didn’t get back to her soon, she was just going to assume it was over. She was fine with it, or at least, she would make herself be fine with it. It wasn’t like she thought they were going to get married or something. She just wanted to know already. It was the not knowing that was driving her crazy. How was she supposed to know if he responded to her if she couldn’t check her messages? The fact that there was a computer just a few feet away from her that she couldn’t use, for absolutely no reason whatsoever, was maddening.

The worst part about all this was that she technically didn’t even have to go to
Israel with the rest of her family. She was eighteen. Nobody would have forced her. She could have found some cheap basement apartment, got some fifteen-dollar-an-hour job at some boring office, and gone to college at night like everyone else who lived in New York by themselves did.

But she didn’t do that.

Maybe it was because of Rafi, that she didn’t want to leave him alone, or perhaps it was some latent love of Israel soaring up inside of her, but the reality was that there wasn’t much to keep her in New York. Just a few friends, half a boyfriend, and a nasty label that had been attached to her since she was twelve. She had no idea what she would have studied in college if she’d had the chance, and she wasn’t aware of any office skills she might have. Her short stint as a cold-caller had convinced her that if she didn’t like what she was doing, she could not force herself to do it.

She had picked up and moved to a new country, six thousand miles away from everything she had ever known, under the pretense that she was being forced to do it. Deep inside, though, she was thinking that maybe, just maybe, that old adage of a change of place, a change of luck, could work for her. Here, in this land of six million Jews, there had to be more categories to fit into than the few that dominated
North America; religious or not, working or learning.

Gaby grabbed her yellow sweatshirt and her phone and went outside.
Shiloh was quiet and still in the moonlight, the stars shining brightly overhead. She started walking, navigating around bikes and children’s toys left lying in the dirt paths. She scrolled through the playlist on her phone and settled on
Bad Meets Evil
by Bruno Mars and Eminem.

When she reached the top of the hill, she was greeted by a view of red-roofed houses below, soft lights emanating from each home, and a clear sky filled with twinkling stars above.

“…a sky full of lighters,” Gaby sang softly to herself, and that’s exactly what it looked like. She sat down on a smooth rock and played with a few pebbles from the ground. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around.

A small group of people were coming up the path, their faces shadowed by the moonlight and the scattered lamp posts.

When they were a few feet away, one of them noticed her and waved. “
Ahalan
,” a girl called out to her.

“Hi,” Gaby responded cautiously.

“Oh, you’re from the new family that just moved here!” The girl moved closer to Gaby. She was wearing long loose black pants and a gray men’s t-shirt with cut-off sleeves and a shredded waistline. Another girl was wearing tight jeans and a low cut white t-shirt. Both had multiple silver necklaces and rings. Two boys behind them were dressed alike, in army-green pants, combat boots, white undershirts, and closely trimmed hair.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Gaby answered. “I’m Gaby.” She considered using the Hebrew Benny had painstakingly taught her, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the natives.

“Ah, Gaby. I’m Shira, and this is Devorah Leah.” She pointed to the other girl, and then motioned behind her to the two boys still a little bit behind. “Those two losers are Chen and Saar.” The girls snickered.

“Losers?” Chen reached the top of the path and pretended he was kicking Shira. “I’m the one who dragged the hookah up.”

“And I am forever grateful.” Shira did a little dance around Chen.

“
Mah zeh
?
Adayin at lo medaberet Ivrit
?” Saar asked Gaby with a wink.

Gaby responded with a huge grin before she was able to stop herself. It was the soldier from the check point, this time without his gear and shades. “I’m still working on it,” she said.

“If you need a tutor, I charge reasonable rates. Very cheap.” Saar walked over and purposefully sat down next to her.

Gaby’s body tingled, responding to his attention like electricity in water. “Thanks, I’ll take it into consideration. How come you all speak English?”

“I’m from South Africa,” Shira said. “We moved to Israel when I was six. My parents still don’t speak Hebrew.” She gave a short laugh.

“I learned from TV,” Devorah Leah said.

“Wow. How much TV do you have to watch to speak such good English? You don’t even have any accent.” She focused on Devorah Leah, trying to ignore Saar who had stretched out beside her and was openly staring up at her.

“A lot!” Chen said. He crouched down on the ground and began setting up the hookah. He blew on a lit match held against a coal until the coal began to glow.

“What about you?” Gaby turned to Saar. “Where did you learn your English?”

“Who said I speak English?”
Saar raised an eyebrow at Gaby.

“Very funny,” Gaby said. She looked around, trying to break his steady gaze. “Hey, which
yishuv
is that one?” She pointed to a group of houses nearby.

Saar
leaned on one elbow and looked over. “That’s no
yishuv
. That’s an Arab village.”

Gaby’s heart jumped a little in fear. “What? No way. They’re so close.”

“Didn’t they tell you before you moved here? This is Palestinian territory,” Saar said in an exaggerated cowboy drawl. Everybody laughed.

Gaby managed a small chuckle while moving away from the edge of the hill. “You guys aren’t scared to hang out right here? What if they see you and shoot or something?” She looked at both boys to double check. Nope, neither of them had their guns with them.

“Nah, they’re not gonna shoot at us.” Saar lay back in the grass.

Gaby looked around at the group. Shira was sitting in Chen’s lap and Devorah Leah was taking deep puffs from the hookah, blowing out the thick smoke in rings. They all looked completely unconcerned, but Gaby couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her through a sniper’s scope.

“
T’ragi,
” Saar said, watching her with a small smile. “Nothing is happening right now. I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” Gaby asked.

“You see that fence?” Saar pointed downward to what looked like a line near the Arab village. “It’s hard for them to get through. People don’t like the fence, but it’s a lot safer now with it.”

Gaby nodded, slightly appeased.

“I don’t get it. Why are you surprised that our closest neighbors are Arabs? Didn’t you come to check out the place before deciding to live in a
yishuv
across the Green Line?” Shira asked Gaby.

“Well, we couldn’t afford the pilot trip that most people go on before finalizing their
aliyah
plans. I mean, if there’s no money for heat, there’s no money for a vacation in Israel.” Gaby shut her mouth quickly, acutely aware that she had just shared too much information.

But Shira just nodded and
Saar sat up to take a puff from the hookah pipe before passing it to Gaby.

Gaby looked at the pipe warily. “I’ve never smoked hookah before. Is it like pot?”

“No, it’s… less.” Saar motioned downward with his hand.

Gaby took a puff. “I don’t feel anything.”

“It’s not drugs,” Saar said. “It’s just to relax. Besides, you have to take a deeper breath.” He demonstrated, blowing thick smoke out through pursed lips.

Gaby tried again, this time exhaling white smoke.

“
Madhim
!” Saar slapped Gaby lightly on the back.

“
Todah rabah
,” Gaby said, sounding as American as possible.

Saar
leaned close to her ear. “It’s like kissing when we smoke from the same pipe,” he said softly.

“You should know I have a boyfriend,” Gaby said, more to throw him off balance than to create distance between them.

“Really? Where is he? In your pocket?” Saar moved behind Gaby and wrapped his arms around her, slipping his hands into her sweatshirt pockets.

Gaby giggled and squirmed away. “He’s Israeli but he lives in
New York. He taught me all the Hebrew I know,” she added, fully aware that she was making her relationship with Benny sound more serious than it was.

“Like,
ani ohev otach
?” Saar asked, giving her a wink.

Gaby thought back to her unanswered messages. Benny would play this game where he would say something in Hebrew and if Gaby understood him, he would reward her with a kiss. After hanging out together the past couple of months, her Hebrew wasn’t too shabby. She had used the excuse that she didn’t know any Hebrew for years to get out of homework assignments. Too bad her school couldn’t come up with as good of an incentive as Benny had to get her to learn the language. But he definitely never said he loved her.

Saar smiled knowingly. “
Lo meshaneh
,” he said and blew a puff of smoke in her direction.

Gaby looked away from
Saar’s all-seeing green eyes, and wished it really didn’t matter what Benny said or didn’t say.

****

The next morning, fierce sunshine woke Gaby up. She groggily cracked open her eyes. She had forgotten to close the
t’risim
, the heavy white window shutters that were capable of keeping the room as dark as night regardless of how sunny it was outside. She reached over and shut them with a slam.

Then, hearing noises in the kitchen, she got up. Maybe she would catch Rafi before he left for his first day of school.

His room was empty when she peeked in. In the kitchen, her mother leaned against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee, looking at the view of mountains and bright blue sky through the window.