Freefall (16 page)

“But I—”

“But you knew that they'd left behind their kitten and thought it couldn't wait. We got a call that there was someone prowling about the empty streets. You're lucky no more rockets have landed.”

He sweeps by me. I see his arm is bandaged and swings inside a sling. “Hold the chair,” he says. “I'm not that steady.”

He climbs up. “Come on, kitty. Let's get you some milk and a safer place to hide out.”

The soldier balances on a stool that he's put on top of the table. As he reaches, his army shirt slides up, revealing the fringes of a prayer shawl tucked beneath his uniform. He coos and finally coaxes the cat inside his sling. “I knew this had to be useful for something.”

He passes it to me. The kitten nestles inside my arms close to my heart.

“There. Now, where's your bomb shelter?”

“I'm not sure. Lily said she's in the community bomb shelter.”

We walk out of the house. He motions for me to hop into the jeep. I slide in, the kitten snuggled tightly against me—or maybe it's me snuggling up to the kitten.

“That's the shelter near the hotel. I'll drive you over.”

As he speeds through the empty street, I sneak a sideways glance at him. His sandy hair is longer than allowed and an inch over the top of his ears. He drives with one hand on the wheel, the other casually resting in his sling.

“What happened?” I ask.

“This?” he says, raising his elbow. He winces. “Shrapnel. It's not so bad. A couple more days and I'll rejoin my unit. For now they've put me in charge of security here.”

“Where's your unit?”

He gestures over his shoulder. “Inside.” Which I know means inside Lebanon.

There's a pause between us. Silence. And then, taking his eyes for a second from the empty road, he says, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Shira would roll her eyes and say, “Typical male.”

He must realize how that sounds, and stumbling over his words, he hurries to explain. “No, really. I'm serious.” He blushes. “Aggie, right?”

The jeep pulls to a stop outside the hotel, but I don't move. “How did you know?”

He laughs. “I'm Jonas,” he says, reaching out with his good hand. “Anyone who's spent any time around Noah has got to know who you are.”

I'm still speechless and make no move to leave the jeep. “Oh?”

He gets out and walks around to my side. “Are you coming?”

“Wait. How do you know Noah?”

“We're in the same unit. And I don't think Noah would appreciate me chatting with you out here while it's still unsafe. Let's get moving.”

“The same unit?” I say, trying to sound casual, but wondering if Noah might be here, too.

“I saw you at the base, when you and a bunch of other girls got back from a field exercise, remember?”

My turn to wince, remembering how we must have looked. I'm amazed he recognizes me without corn in my hair.

“How is he?”

And it's like watching a fade-out on a screen. Jonas withdraws. His smile disappears. He takes a step away from me as if I've invaded his personal space.

“Don't back off . I want to know.”

He shrugs. “I don't know what to tell you. Things were okay when I left, but he's in a dangerous place and the situation changes every minute.”

I don't press for more information, unsure what questions to ask, unsure that I want to hear the answers. He mutters a name of a village under his breath.

“I hate thinking of them there and me not with them,” he says.

Fighting against the tightness in my chest, I turn away from him. But I can't turn my thoughts away from Noah. Here is the front line—but our soldiers have crossed it. I'm outside in the fresh air feeling like I'm suffocating, as if I were already inside the shelter below. if I were already inside the shelter below.

“Really, we shouldn't be standing here,” he says.

But bomb shelters are crowded, noisy, and suff ocating places, and this one will have a lot of people in it I don't know. I'm scared.

“Anything you want me to tell Noah when I see him?”

My throat is too constricted for me to speak. I can't seem to dig the words out from inside of me. I feel my cheeks getting hot. I stroke the kitten, trying to fight back my tears.

“Okay. I'll describe that for him,” he says softly. “He'll want to know everything. It'll give him a lift.” He shifts his weight and pulls on the strap of his gun. “I've got to get back to headquarters.”

“Can't you stay a bit longer? I really don't want to go into that bomb shelter alone. What if Lily's not there? I don't know anyone.”

“Don't worry. You'll feel right at home. During war, we're all family. ” He reaches out and scratches the kitten behind the ears. “You and your kitten get inside. And Aggie? No more roaming around on your own. Wait until we send out the all-clear signal, okay?”

I nod my head and watch him drive off —but I still don't move.

I hate bomb shelters. I've done enough school drills to know that the ventilation system in the shelter never works well. We'd hoard inside anyway, where usually within minutes we'd be overwhelmed by body odors. And the teachers, fanning themselves by the exit, would look at us with sour expressions on their faces that said that they weren't getting paid enough for this stuff .

But this is not a drill, and I can't continue to stand out here.

I push the door open and step in.

It takes a moment to adjust to the change in light, the commotion of color, and the rush of excitement.

One corner has kids hanging streamers across what looks like a stage made up of overturned cartons with a plywood sheet on top. At the other end of the room an amplifier is being set up and a bass guitar is draped over two chairs. Some vaguely familiar musician-looking types are fighting over the sound system.

I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Everyone else in the room is dressed for the Academy Awards: long-legged, high-heeled women in black beside guys wearing clean jeans and crisp white shirts are mulling about, pausing in front of video cameras to smile and exchange kisses.

Huddling by the wall, I look around desperately for a familiar face.

“Whose side are you on?” asks a soldier suddenly appearing at my elbow.

I blink. It should be obvious. I'm in a bomb shelter. There's no way I can look like a terrorist. “Sorry?”

“You don't look like any of us,” he says. His eyes are dark and questioning. He's got a flat nose and swarthy skin. Not too tall and yet solidly built, he seems to have me surrounded just by the bulk of him. He stares at me so intensely, I feel pinned to the wall and inch toward the door, ready to escape.

“His side? Her side?” he asks again.

“Well, I—”

“Ours!” sings out a familiar voice.

And Lily sweeps me into a bear hug. “She's on the bride's side of the family.” Lily laughs. “Sugarpear,” she says. “What took you so long?”

Chapter Sixteen

“I'm so thrilled you made it,” says Lily.

I wipe off my tears, embarrassed to be making a scene.

“He must think I'm an idiot,” I say, glancing at the soldier who is still watching us.

“Him? That's just Yossi. He's a distant cousin.” Holding me at arm's length, she notices the cat. “You brought your kitten?”

“Yes. No. I found it.” I gulp. “You won't believe what just happened to me.”

Lily shakes her head. “Time for that later. I hope you brought something nice to wear?”

“Sorry, Lily.” I blow my nose. I'm still hiccupping as I speak, torn between relief that I made it here and hysteria that I am here. “I guess I imagined you and your family huddled in a damp, cold dungeon with no air and only the sound of chattering teeth waiting for the next rocket to fall.” My hiccup turns into a laugh. “I should have known that you'd find any excuse to have a party.”

Lily crosses her arms over her chest—which is no small feat—and pretends to look off ended. “This isn't just any party. I told you my cousin Rita has finally snagged a guy.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think you were serious about going through with it now.”

“
Hellz-bollah
if we're going to let some guerrillas with their fingers on a rocket get in her way. The army has agreed to let us hold the ceremony outside once the all-clear signal goes, and then later down here: party time!”

I look around the shelter. “You mean music and dancing?”

“You bet! These guys”—she points to the band—“play in the hottest pubs in Tel Aviv. When they heard we were having a celebration, they insisted on coming here to show solidarity. I said I was hoping that some of them would show us a whole lot more.”

“Lily, be serious.”

“I am! You can count the number of guys around here who haven't been drafted, and then weed out the cute ones from that, and well, this place should be on a male disaster list somewhere so that they'll fly us in some supplies.”

Lily lifts the kitten from my arms and nuzzles nose-to-nose. “I still have a million things to do before the wedding ceremony.” She glances at her watch. “Okay, this is what we'll do.”

I nod, ready for my instructions.

“I've got a kid in my car—”

“You left a kid in your car?”

She pauses, a look of confusion crosses her face, and then she smiles. “Relax, it's okay.”

“On his own? Are you crazy?”

“He's fine. It's a goat, Aggie. Not a
kid
kid.” She looks at her cousin Yossi and they both laugh. “If you can take the goat and the kitten to the hospital, it'll save me time.”

“You can't come with me?” I ask her. “I don't know where I'm going.”

“Yossi will show you the way.”

Yossi looks at her. “Lily, I've just got off guard duty.”

“You don't have to go in with her. Just point her in the right direction.”

“But—I've never driven to the hospital,” I say. “I don't know my way around. I don't know the first thing”—I pause—“about goats.”

“Goats. Right.” Lily holds up her hand to stop my babbling. “First of all, you don't have to worry about navigating through the traffic: there isn't any. The sea is behind you; the hospital, straight ahead. One traffic circle and you're there. Even you don't need GPS for that.”

“Very funny.”

“Just teasing. When you get to the hospital, circle on back. They had to move the wards underground after one of the wings got hit.”

“The hospital was hit—with a rocket?”

“It's okay now, but they're staying underground until things calm down.”

Yossi butts in. “We're all wrapped up here together until things calm down.”

Lily looks at him and starts fanning the air in front of her. “Talk about being wrapped up together. Are you trying to kill us or something? There's little enough air in this bomb shelter without you puffing on that thing.”

He drops his cigarette and stubs it out with his heel. “She's in a bomb shelter worrying about secondhand smoke.” He laughs and winks at me. “Dance later?”

“She's busy,” says Lily, turning back to me. “The entrance to the kids' ward is on the west side, and someone will know what to do with the animals.”

“Someone?”

Lily shrugs. “Aggie, if you made it up here when there's no more public transportation going north and you found me in a city where there is no one to be found, I've no qualms that you'll manage to find the hospital and the kids' ward.”

I want to argue, but just then there is a shrill, jerky siren.

“All clear,” says Yossi.

“Got to run.”Lily throws her car keys at me. “Out back. It's a small Ford Escort. You can't miss it. Sometimes it doesn't want to start, but be patient and keep turning the engine over. The kid's in the front seat.”

“Come on,” says Yossi. “I'll show you.”

Following the crowd, we go back onto the street, which is now bustling with people coming out to breathe. Yossi points out Lily's car. I look inside and freeze. It's worse than I thought.

“Lily!” I scream. “What am I supposed to do with a goat!”

Yossi is doubled over, laughing. “Oh, this is too much.”

The goat looks at me, sitting in the front seat as if to say “What's your problem? We don't have all night.”

“Stay here,” says Yossi, struggling to catch his breath. “I'll bring my jeep around.”

I slip into the front seat and put the kitten inside a little crate that Lily has in the back for transporting the strays. The goat looks back at me, then turns to stick its nose out the window.

“Good,” I tell him. “Stay like that and don't do any goat things.”

I shift the car into first and pray that it'll start, that I'll make it to the hospital before the next siren sounds, that I'll find what to do with the goat once I get there, and then have time to shower and change in time for the party. I must be out of my mind to have gotten myself into this situation.

Driving behind Yossi, the ride to the hospital starts off as easily as Lily promised. Following the canal that cuts through the center of town, it's impossible to get lost. As we approach the main traffic light that divides everything north on the left and everything south of Nahariya to my right, it turns to yellow. I'm afraid Yossi will barrel through. I'm too well trained to run a red, even if the streets are empty. My luck, I'd hit the one other vehicle on the road—or the one cop car still on patrol. Fortunately, Yossi stops and waits for the green.

The road to the hospital has houses on both sides that now all look abandoned. I try to imagine the place as I've seen it before. Hitchhikers hanging out by the bus stops, scooters weaving through the traffic, and mothers pushing baby carriages along the sidewalks.