Freefall (7 page)

Carolina bats at the smoke.

“Okay, girls,” says the commander. “It gets dark pretty fast around here. Number Eighteen will bring back the stretchers. The rest of you find your gear and start setting up camp. I've arranged a schedule of your shifts of guard duty throughout the night, which you will pass from one to the other. I expect you to be at your post on the hour assigned, and don't let me find one of you even thinking of drifting off while on duty. Understood?”

I straighten up the equipment and then head over to the pile of duff el bags.

“I actually brought
The Alchemist
with me,” says Carolina. “As if I can keep my eyes open long enough to read.”

“Or have the energy to lift the page.”

The pile gets smaller. I'd borrowed Hila's navy blue backpack. It was the biggest one we had in the house. She used it when she went to camp. Navy blue is hard to see when there's so little light.

There are three bags left in the pile.

Lily takes one and trudges off . “It wasn't that heavy when I packed it this morning.”

Pigtails takes the next.

Carolina grabs the last one. “Whew,” she says. “For a second I thought it was lost.”

There is none left.

But that's impossible. My bag has to be around somewhere.

Mine must have tumbled off to the side. Pigtails lends me her small keychain flashlight. The wind has picked up from the east. It's a sharp, thick wind carrying sandy grit. I raise my arm to shield my face.

“Did anyone see my sleeping bag?” I shout. “Or my backpack?”

There are a few mumbled replies; none of them sound encouraging. It's got to be here somewhere. I've got everything inside my bag. My toothbrush. A hairbrush. Hila gave me a pack of antiseptic wipes.

“Didn't anyone see where my stuff went?” My voice quivers on the edge of hysterics.

The tent is up. Noga struggles with the last pole, trying to straighten out the peculiar slant. Like moles, the girls have buried themselves inside. I'm alone. It's dark. There is a chill in the air that seeps in through my shirt and inside me. It must be dangerous to be out here on my own.

“Commander?” I tap on her tent.

“Commander?”

“What?”

“My backpack is missing. I don't have a sleeping bag, a sweater, not even my hairbrush. What am I supposed to do?”

She pokes her head out of her tent. I see she has already rolled out her sleeping bag and unzipped it. Her two scribes are lying down.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don't know.” I can hear my voice breaking. “I put it on the bus with everyone else's stuff. How am I supposed to sleep?”

She looks at me with her cold, green glare.

I clench my teeth to keep from trembling.

“What do you want me to do about it?” She reaches for her radio. “I can call the base and tell them to come get you and take you home, if that's what you want.”

She stares me straight in the eye. She doesn't even say it as a challenge. She doesn't care if I stay or go. Why should she? There are others who can take my place.

“Well?”

I don't know if that's what I want. I'm too tired to think straight. My head hurts. My mouth drops open but the words stay stuck inside.

“When you decide what it is you want, you come and tell me.” She pops her head back in the tent. “I've had a long day.”

She's had a long day? I find North Carolina outside the tent in a yoga pose. “Did you see my bag?”

“No.”

I hesitate. “Do you think we could share a sleeping bag?”

Silence. “Sorry, but if I don't get a good night's sleep, I'll be hopeless tomorrow.”

I get the same reply from the rest of the girls.

“Sugarpear,” says Lily, “if I were to roll over accidentally, I might turn you into stewed fruit. Is that what you want?”

No, it's not what I want. I want to go home! I want to sleep in a warm bed with clean sheets. I want Mom to make me a cup of steaming hot chocolate. I want to hear Hila singing in the shower. I want Dad to tell me that everything will be okay. “Strength, Aggie-doll, is built from the inside out.”

But I've had enough.

I head back to the commander's tent. The camping light she had on a few minutes ago is off. She's probably asleep. I stand outside working up the nerve to knock—but I'm too afraid to wake her. There's no one to ask and I don't even know which way it is to the army base.

I'm stuck!

I go back to the tent and slip inside. Lying on the rocky ground next to the open flap of the tent, I curl into a small ball. I'll wait for morning and then I'll have to leave. I feel something inside me beginning to snap.

Peeking up at the sky through the tent flap, I feel so small and overwhelmed by the vastness around me. I try not to whimper but can't stop myself. Something hits my foot. I scrunch up tighter. It lies near me. I kick it away. It doesn't move. Shining a light on it, I realize that someone has tossed out an old shirt.

I've become a dumping ground for dirty laundry.

Picking it up, I consider throwing it back, but the shirt is soft and smells clean, and rolled up, it works as a pillow, cushioning the rocky soil beneath my head.

A few moments later something itchy lands next to me. A wool sweater. It's not a blanket, but draped over my shoulders it keeps out the night chill.

For the next few minutes odds and ends fly my way. Soon I've got a somewhat comfortable patch beneath me and am covered on top as well. The final thing lands with a jingle.

A stuffed bunny.

I can't believe someone brought a stuffed animal. Wrapping it in my arms, I snuggle down for the night.

Only I can't sleep.

It's the pressure.

I roll onto my side. I roll onto my stomach.

I try thinking about dry cleaners, dry crackers, dry toast, but nothing works. I have a sandbag inside me weighing down on the very spot where all the water that I drank but didn't sweat out is about to burst its dam.

I've got to go.

But it's dark.

I've got to go.

But it's too creepy to go alone. I'm bursting!

“Lily?”

Silence.

“Lily?” I say louder.

“What?”

“Don't you have to pee?”

I wait. A few minutes later her head pops out of her sleeping bag. “Enough to flood the Jordan River.”

Pigtails sits up. “Can I come, too?”

“Where are you going?” asks Argentina.

“To irrigate the desert,” says Lily.

“Are we allowed?” asks Amber.

“What do you mean?”

We look at one another.

“We might not be allowed to leave here.”

“We're not going out bar hopping,” says Argentina.

“Maybe we should wake the commander and ask her.”

“You wake her.”

“Uh-uh. I'm not waking her.”

“We could use a can and pass it around,” Noga suggests.

“You want to take up a collection?”

“We'd share the can not the—”

“Disgusting.” Lily wiggles out of her sleeping bag.

“They can try and control my head, but there are parts of me that no one's going to ever control. Are you coming?” She says to me.

“I'm right behind you.”

“Don't stand too close.”

As we start walking, I hear movement behind me.

Soon eight of us are tiptoeing away from the camp, down the hill, trying not to crunch too loudly in our boots. We scout the area for the most secure terrain.

“You three stand guard first,” says Argentina.

“Why me?” says Sonya. “Why don't you stand guard first with Lily and the skinny girl?”

“My name is Aggie,” I say. “And it was my idea to begin with.”

“I'll guard first instead of Sonya,” says Lily. “Just do it quickly, okay? I'm dying here.”

Facing the ravine we unzip and crouch.

“All clear.”

We switch. I keep an eye out. “Done?”

“Done.”

“Done.”

“Done.”

Turning around, we tiptoe back up to camp, the mood a lot lighter. The others crawl into their sleeping bags. I slide between the shirts, sweaters, sheets, and pillowcases that were tossed my way.

“Are you okay Sugarpear?” asks Lily.

“Just me and the stars, but yeah, I'm okay.”

“Hear oh Israel—”

Sonya groans. “Hey, how am I supposed to sleep with that racket?”

“I'm praying for us,” says Noga.

“Pray for yourself. Preferably in silence.”

“I was only going to ask Him to watch over us.”

Sonya mutters something.

“Just because you don't believe,” says Amber with a slur that can come only from a dental retainer, “doesn't mean you should be disrespectful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

No one answers.

Argentina's raspy smoker's laugh is impossible not to recognize.

Then someone else joins in. Soon we're all laughing.

“We should get some sleep,” says Pigtails. “Or we won't be laughing much tomorrow.”

“Good night, Noga,” says Sonya. She pauses. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don't worry about it,” says Noga. “It's all in the stars.”

Rolling onto my back, I peer out through the flap up at the stars. The sky seems so vast and far away. We must appear so little and insignificant from above. Who knows?

For now, I'm trying to think of all the right reasons to be here—but only the superficial ones come to mind.

If I make it through, Grandma will have something to boast about to her friends.

If I make it through, Mom—well, Mom will go berserk.

If I make it through, Dad will be impressed.

Hila will realize she's not the only one who fights for what she wants.

Ben and Ron will think it's sexy.

Shira will think it's dangerous and crazy, and that I'm out of my mind.

And Noah. If he were even to stop and think about it, he'd probably want to know how many constellations I saw.

saw.

“Big Dipper,” I whisper, pointing at the sky.

“Are you sure?” he'll quiz me.

I'll explain to him how Grandma taught me to stargaze. After dinner on warm summer evenings she'd point out the Big Dipper, see if I could locate the northern star, and then she'd always have a word to add.

“Aggie, baby, remember that though we are small, nothing in this universe is insignificant. One drop of water can't create a flood. One grain of sand doesn't make a dam and one star can't form a constellation, but without the one, there would be none.”

I whisper into the stuffed bunny's ear, adding, “And one soldier doesn't make an army.”

Curling up with my knees to my chest, I try to conserve body heat. Sleep seems almost impossible …but just as I start to drift off, I am wrenched back with a shove on the shoulder and a cold burst of air as the sweater is yanked right off of me.

“Aggie,” a harsh voice jars me awake. “Get up!”

Chapter Seven

“Hey!” I cry, tugging back the
sweater.

“Get up already. I've been standing here for an hour trying to wake you.”

The impatient whisper is unfamiliar. I try to ignore it by hunkering down deeper and falling back asleep, but the voice won't let me. My neck crimps. I knead the knot, tugging aside the steel fibers of the sweater draped over me. A gust of wind breezes down my shirt. Chilled. Hungry. Tired. Sore. Can't figure out which comes first.

“Go away,” I grumble.

“I'm not going anywhere. Get moving before I turn you into a
mufletta
.”

The visual comes back to me in full force. How could I not have recognized Lily's boom box?

I know it's her hulking over me, despite the dark circles rimming her eyes and the pinched scowl on her lips.

“Don't give me that look. It's your turn.”

“Don't give “My turn?”

“Your shift to guard. Come on. I'm exhausted.”

And cranky. Her irritability is infectious. Sitting up, my motley beddings fall aside. “You don't have to hover,” I snap at her. “Go on. You can see I'm ready.” I stand up fully dressed, looking like I'm ready to march across the desert. We've all gone to sleep in our uniforms, including the boots on our feet. I wiggle my toes. I'm awake and now my toes decide to fall asleep.

Lily shuffles up dust and rubs her arms. “I'm not taking any chances that you won't bury yourself back under there. My shift ends once you're in place.
Hop
to it.” She snickers, looking at the bunny still wrapped in my arms.

Tossing the stuffed animal back on the lump of bedding, I scoop up the ends of my hair and rein them in with my now-blackened scrunchie.

“Noga's after you, at two o'clock,” says Lily. She points to the guard post, which isn't much of a post. All that marks the area is a flat rock on a mountain rise. Inside, a burning burlap sack sends up fumes.

“Now I could use some sun,” I say. My army-supplied jacket is together with the rest of my gear: lost. The scorching desert sun has gathered up all its heat and left a dark chill behind.

Lily shrugs and hands me the list. It's already two minutes past her hour. She yawns. Her whole body judders, all the way to her tonsils.

“Whatever you do, don't fall asleep, or you'll get tossed out of here—fast.”

I look around. Night has turned the desert upside down. Above, the sky stretches endlessly, and now it is too dark to see even a meter beyond where I am standing.

“Is it dangerous?”

Lily shrugs. “Don't know. It's a bit creepy being alone. I tried not to think about it too much.” She starts to walk back to her tent. Stops. Groans and turns back. walk back to her tent. Stops.

“What now?” I ask.

“Here,” she says, shirking off her jacket. “You'll freeze without this. Just give it back to me in the morning. I'm not getting fined because you can't hold on to your things.”