Next Year in Israel (13 page)
“Quiet, we’re trying to sleep,” Ben said.
“Get rid of your attitude.” Chatterbox sipped his coffee. “Shall I tell the driver to take you back to the
kfar
?”
Ben put on his headphones and blasted the music.
Chatterbox continued, “The Hebrew word for the Holocaust is
Ha-Shoah
.”
Grandma talked about her relatives who had died in concentration camps. It was sad they hadn’t survived, but they seemed like a bunch of strangers, because I hadn’t known them.
“Ben’s grandmother’s a survivor,” Mia said.
I glanced at Ben. He was crouched down in his seat, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song was in his iPod.
Our first stop at the memorial was a tent-shaped building that looked like a stone vault. It was dark and dreary, except for an eternal flame behind a crypt that held ashes of victims. Ben squeezed Mia’s hand, sidestepping around plaques on the floor naming murder sites and concentration camps. “My grandmother was a baby; she was hidden and taken to Sweden. The rest of her family was wiped out. Her mother and father.”
Tears slid down Mia’s face. I handed her a Kleenex from my pocket.
“Was your grandfather a holocaust victim too?” Jake asked.
“He was born here.” I had seen pictures of Ben’s family in his room. Ben’s olive skin and dark eyes came from his dad. I felt a lump in my throat. It was pointless to tell him I was sorry his relatives were murdered, and for the first time, my family members didn’t seem nameless. They were my relatives too.
Later, we ate the same boxed lunch we had on our first trip: cucumber and tomato in a pita, with a banana and a warm Coke. “Our next stop’s the Shuk Arab market,” Chatterbox told us. “No one shops alone. I want everyone in pairs. Don’t give the beggars anything or they’ll follow you. Shopping can be… what’s the correct word?”
“A
balagan
, chaos,” Leah said. “We’re skipping dinner tonight, so eat here.”
It was definitely a
balagan
the minute we stepped off the bus. Crowds of people milled around. Someone was giving tourists camel rides across the street. A couple of kids dressed in dirty jeans and Sony tee shirts came up to us with their hands out. Ben yelled at them in Hebrew until they headed to another bus of tourists.
Parts of the food area smelled disgusting. Dead chickens and turkeys hung from the walls of the meat stalls, their carcasses waiting to be sold. Mia stopped at a stall in front of a tray loaded with pastries.
A middle-aged man came out immediately, wearing a black tunic and a black-and-white checkered head scarf.
“Three for five
shekels
,” he said. “You choose any one.”
I swatted at the flies hovering.
“Lo
,” Ben said and turned to walk away.
“Three for three
shekels
,” the man countered.
Mia handed him money.
I took a piece of baklava.
“Thanks, Ben.” I chewed. “What’s in here?”
“Nuts and honey.” Ben took a piece. “We could have gotten it cheaper. Let me do the talking.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “I can barter for myself.”
“I’m fluent in Hebrew,” Ben said. “They’ll take advantage because you’re a girl.”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
I waved at Jake in the next stall. “Jake, come over here.”
“You want me to bargain for you?”
“Nah.”
“Actually, Rebecca and I are shopping alone.” Mia pulled me down the alleyway, laughing. We cracked up until another voice got our attention.
“Hi, Gingy. I got some fruit for you.”
I looked around. Who was Gingy?
“I’m talking to the redhead and her friend,” the merchant said, from several feet away. “You want apples or kiwi?”
We walked into his stall. He handed Mia two strawberries. “To go with your hair.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“You tell your friends about me. Okay?”
We wandered past children’s sweaters hanging cluttered from the booth into a stall full of candlestick holders. Two forty-something shopkeepers in beige tunics and scarves darted out. Mia lifted a skinny silver case with Hebrew letters on it. It was similar to the mezuzah attached to the right doorpost of my house that my parents had received as a wedding gift.
“You like it?” one of the shopkeepers asked.
Mia held it closer. “Does it include a scroll?”
“Of course. You buy it and get the prayers to put inside.”
Mia put it down and pointed to the gold one on the shelf. “Gold is more Aunt Julie’s taste. How much?”
“Twenty
shekels
.”
“Mia, we have to go meet our group.” I waved my watch to speed up the process. Walking out dropped the price dramatically.
“Eighteen
shekels
,” he said loudly.
“Ten,” Mia answered.
“Thirteen.”
“Eleven.” She turned her body toward the entrance.
“Twelve.”
“Sold,” she said.
He handed her a plastic bag with her loot. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“We have to meet Leah at the bus,” I said. We only had a few precious shopping minutes left. I hadn’t bought my parents presents yet.
“We have time.” Mia didn’t follow my lead.
“Have a seat,” the merchant said. “We are honored you will have tea with us. Are you American?”
Mia sat down on the folding chair. “Yes.”
The other man came out with a silver tea set. “You like Israel?”
“I love Israel. Sit down, Rebecca.” Mia ordered. “Are you Arabs?”
I sat down, annoyed by Mia’s question. They were obviously Arabs from their scarves and tunics. Israeli males didn’t wear scarves or tunics. They dressed like Avi in pants or shorts.
“Yes.” He raised a silver bowl full of mini sugar cubes. “Would you like sugar?”
“I don’t use sugar,” I said.
Mia took two cubes. Three women dressed in jeans, buttoned-up blouses, and head scarves walked in, speaking Arabic. I sipped my tea and listened to them laugh with the shopkeepers like we didn’t exist. I smiled when they strolled out of the store like they were on a homework break and didn’t want to go back to their textbooks. The shopkeeper who hadn’t spoken to us pulled down the chains, blocking the shop entrance.
My pulse raced. Chatterbox and Leah had told us to be careful.
“So we can enjoy tea without other customers,” the other shopkeeper said.
I kicked Mia’s foot. Mia sipped her tea like sitting alone with strangers was a regular occurrence.
I picked up my cup and wondered where the soldiers were. We had seen lots of them walking around. There had to be a few nearby.
The silent shopkeeper sat down on his stool next to the register and moved his hands behind the counter.
I put down my cup. If he pulled out a gun or knife, I would scream full force for the soldiers to hear.
“Your hair is beautiful,” the other shopkeeper said to Mia.
The silent shopkeeper behind the counter stared at her. I waited for Mia to answer.
“Thanks.” She sounded flattered by the compliment. “My grandma had red hair.”
Why did she have to keep the conversation going? We needed to leave before they tried to hurt us. What if the soldiers didn’t hear me scream?
“Have your parents found a husband for you?” the other shopkeeper said.
Mia snickered. “My parents won’t arrange my marriage. I’ll pick whoever I marry.”
The silent shopkeeper moved his stubby hands to the base of the register and spoke. “My son is nineteen and very smart. He wants to be an accountant. Would you like to meet him?”
She gulped down the remaining tea in her cup. “I won’t have time. We’re flying back to America tomorrow.”
I stood up; a group of Asian tourists was in front of the entrance, peering into the chains. “They want to come into your store.”
“Anything else you want to buy?” asked the one who wanted to arrange his son’s marriage.
“Nah,” I said.
“Actually, she’s looking for gifts,” Mia answered.
He lifted the chains up haphazardly. “I will sell you my best Jerusalem candlestick holders for fifteen s
hekels
. That’s five less than regular.”
“She needs two sets,” Mia said.
‘Geez, Mia,’ I wanted to say.
His smile seemed genuine as he picked up a set of holders from the display table. They were round, elaborately engraved in a pattern of the Wall. “Two for thirty.”
Mom and Dad would love them.
Mia walked towards the door.
“Two, for twenty-five,” he said.
“Twenty,” I said.
“Twenty-one.” He got out a plastic bag and tissue paper.
“Okay.”
In the crowded alleyway, I spoke up. “Weren’t you scared when they closed the store for our tea party?”
“They were just being friendly. I dunno. It might be an Arab custom.”
“Don’t you think they might have hurt us if the other tourists hadn’t showed up?”
“No. There were two of us.”
“Tourists have been killed here before.”
“I know, I decided to trust that nothing would happen.”
~ * * * ~
Back on the bus, Ben picked up my bag. “How much did you pay for your goodies?”
“Twenty-two s
hekels
,” I said.
“Twenty-one,” Mia corrected me.
“You should have let me barter for you,” Ben said. “I could have gotten him lower.”
“Yeah, thanks to Mia, I probably got ripped off.” I watched the streetlights begin to illuminate in the dusk and turned off Mia’s iPod. Her music collection consisted of folksy artists who I didn’t listen to.
Jake sat down next to me. “I’m bored.”
“Music?” I offered him Mia’s headphones.
“What’s up with you and your Israeli boyfriend?”
I fiddled with the cord. “His name’s Avi. We’re friends.”
He smiled. “Friends with benefits?”
“None of your business.”
“C’mon, tell me. How far have you gone?”
I shook my head and laughed.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want about me. How far I’ve gone.”
Who doesn’t want to know that kind of information? Certainly, I did. I glanced around. Mia and Ben were sleeping, her head resting on his shoulder. Everyone else was talking or had their headphones on. The bus driver was listening to the news on the radio. Chatterbox and Leah sat two rows ahead.
“My son’s a lawyer,” Chatterbox said.
“Is he married?” Leah asked.
Chatterbox sipped his canteen. “Baby number three will be born in six months. My other son’s engaged. His—”
“My four daughters are all married,” Leah interrupted. “The youngest just had grandchild number nine. The oldest is hoping for twins—”
Chatterbox cut in. “The engaged couple plans to start a family on their honeymoon.”
If Jake and I whispered, nobody would hear our conversation. He probably wouldn’t admit anything. It was probably flirty talk that would end with him dodging his own question. “You first,” I said.
He inched closer. “All the way, before. Once.”
My face flushed.
“What about you?”
I paused for a second. Should I tell him to get lost? I didn’t want to. “Avi and I kissed.”
Jake smiled. “Hmm.”
“It was my first kiss,” I tagged on.
“Did you tell him it was your first?”
“Nah.”
“You should have. How special, and he doesn’t know.”
Maybe he could be helpful. He was, after all, the experienced one. “I need a guy’s opinion.”
“Sure.” Jake took Mia’s headphones, which I had put down between us.
“He’s quiet, like me.” I intentionally didn’t add a comment about being smart. “I don’t know if it was a one-time thing, or if he wants to be my boyfriend.”
Jake’s smile vanished. “If there’s no kiss next time you see him, move on.”
I smiled in anticipation. On Friday, I’d find out.
“WAKE UP, LOVES,” LEAH SAID on Friday morning. “Hurry up if you want breakfast.”
“Thanks, Leah.” I lay in my bed, awake. My entire body tingled. In my dream, Jake and I had been kissing. It had been a long kiss that went on and on, and when he moved his hands from the small of my back to the buttons on my shirt, I melted underneath his touch.
Mia swung her leg on the floor. “Why are you smiling?”
“Weird dream.” He had taken off his shirt, and I kissed him again until we stopped for a breath, then we both lay down. I rolled over on top of him, until I slowly arched myself up.
“Do you remember it?”
“Nah, think I’ll hang out here this weekend.” I was supposed to go to Avi’s for our rescheduled date.
Mia opened her cubby. “Giving Avi a taste of being stood up?”
“We have a Hebrew quiz on Sunday.” I hated hearing myself use an excuse.
Mia smiled. “Avi can quiz you.”
True, but Jake had been talking to me between classes. It was mostly the same flirty talk he used on Mia and Jordyn, but something had changed between us. On Wednesday, he had asked me if I had any brothers or sisters. I had said no and asked him about our history homework. “Jake’s in advanced Hebrew,” I said.
“See, you like him.”
Did she have to say it aloud, like I was positive about it? It was only a dream. “As a friend.”
“It’s more than a friend.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m calling Avi after school. Don’t tell Ben anything.”
After Hebrew class, I walked over to Jake in the hallway. I wanted to be friendly, yet normal. He opened his mouth. His lips were perfect, not uneven with a thin top lip and fat bottom one. “Hey, Becca. Looking sexy today.”
My palms got sweaty. Did he suspect I had dreamed about him? I needed to say something smart. “I might go to Avi’s.” I threw back my shoulders. “Any pointers?”
“Will you kiss him again?” He said playfully.
“Maybe.” I stepped toward Mia and Ben.
I pulled Mia’s arm. “Excuse us, Ben. I need her for a minute.”
She looked at Ben, who was standing there, not really watching us. “Becca’s staying—”
“Shush. I told Jake I might go to Avi’s.”
“Good strategy. Let’s sit with him at lunch.”
“Absolutely not.” I needed to size up the situation more before I made a mistake. “He might just want to be friends.”
“Are you two coming to lunch?” Ben yelled from the steps.