Freefall Page 13

  “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.

  We reach the turn-off for the hospital. Yossi waits for me to draw up beside him.

  “Sorry, can’t take you any farther,” he calls out the window. “I’ve got to get back. Will you be okay from here?”

  “No problem,” I say with a lot more confidence than I feel.

  I drive around the side and leave the Ford in a half-hour parking zone. The hospital windows are all boarded up to protect against shattering glass when the rockets land, giving the place a haunted look. Some of the street lamps haven’t been as fortunate, and the sound of splintering glass beneath my feet makes me shudder. I pull the kitten out of the crate and snuggle it in my arms.

  “Hey, kitty,” I coo. “So far, so good.”

  Then I stall, wondering how one coaxes a baby goat out of the front seat of a car.

  “Baa, baa,” I say feebly. “Here, billy goat.”

  It looks at me, and I swear I think it rolls its eyes.

  “Out,” I command.

  Nothing.

  “Please?”

  I hear it giggle. Goats don’t giggle.

  “Who’s there?”

  A boy, no taller than the goat, crawls out from behind a small stone wall. “Maybe if you pull the string around its neck,” he says.

  “The string?”

  He points to a dangling piece of frayed string. “Pull on it and he’ll come out.”

  “Okay.” I have my
pride and don’t want him thinking I’m afraid of a little goat. I tug on the string, and the thing climbs out. I shut the door quickly—just in case it had any other ideas.

  “How’d you know that would work?”

  “We’ve been taking care of the animals that Lily brings here.”

  I almost say, “Oh you’re one of them”—but catch myself in time.

  “Aggie,” I say, introducing myself. “And you are?”

  “Roy.”

  Roy is short. He’s got very fair skin and big round glasses that magnify his eyes. He’s wearing a baseball cap, loose-fitting jeans, and a sweatshirt. Not exactly hospital attire, but then goats aren’t usually hospital visitors. He has a book tucked under his arm, and his finger inside is marking his spot. He watches me with an amused expression.

  “Thanks. I’m not great with—goats. What are you reading?” I ask.

  “The Hobbit.”

  “Yeah? It’s good, isn’t it?”

  “I’m reading it for the second time,” he says. “Now I know how Bilbo feels living underground.” He stretches out his left arm and shows me his hospital bracelet. “I’ve even got a ring like he does that can protect me from anything.”

  “Nice.”

  He smiles. “Like in The Lord of the Rings. I am invincible.”

  “So you are.”

  We look at the sky. Somewhere in the distance is the sound of gunfire.

  “You’re not scared being out here on your own?”

  “Sure I am. I’m scared of lots of stuff . But I had to get out for a few minutes and breathe real air.”

  Life is strange, I think. The big wars get all the attention while, in fact, so many smaller, private wars are going on at the same time and most of us don’t even think twice about them. I look at Roy, wondering what’s on his mind.

  “My fifteen minutes are up,” he says. “Are you coming in?”

  “I can’t. I promised Lily I’d get back in time for the wedding.”

  “A wedding?” he asks.

  “Her cousin is getting married tonight.”

  Roy looks at me wistfully. “I wish I could go. I bet there’s going to be cake.”

  I look at him petting the goat, and before I know it I’m figuring out a plan. “Tell you what,” I say. “If you take the kitten and the goat inside, I’ll be able to make it back for the wedding. And then later, I’ll bring you some cake.”

  “Really?” he says.

  “Really?”

  “You promise?”

  “Promise,” I say.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I wait until Roy is safely inside with the goat and the kitten.

  I climb back into Lily’s Ford and stick the key in the ignition. The engine groans, sputters, and dies. “No. Not now.” Turning the key again, I floor the gas pedal. Mustn’t flood the engine, I think. It kicks over, threatens to sputter, but I pump the gas stronger and it roars to life.

  A glance north and I shift into drive. Rolling out of the gates of the hospital, I breeze through the traffic circle. Like Lily promised, it’s a straight ride and only a few kilometers. A piece of cake. Cake. I hope that Lily has found me something normal to wear. I’m actually excited about going to the wedding and think it will be fun to be surrounded by people, noise, action.

  Nahariya is so quiet, the air feels heavy with silence. I roll down the window, but hear only the grinding of my wheels on the asphalt. Speeding up just a few kilometers over the limit, I find myself wishing Yossi were driving in front of me. I don’t want to get stuck sitting at a red light.

  I’m trying to avoid the tingling in my spine. My foot doesn’t leave the gas pedal. I’d rather be a moving target than a sitting duck.

  I cover another block and allow myself to breathe.

  The main traffic light comes into view. It’s green. I speed up even faster, racing toward it. The picture of the stickman starts flashing, even though he’s the only pedestrian around.

  I can make it. The air rushes in through the window, whipping my hair back. Two blocks to go!

  And that’s when I hear the siren. It starts as a low wail. I ease my foot off the pedal and cast a guilty glance over my shoulder. I was only going a few kilometers over the limit. The road is empty. Just my luck! Pulled over for a ticket the one time—

  The low wail starts to build. I check the rearview mirror. There are no other cars on the road. Not even a police car.

  Like a tidal wave, the siren washes in from the sea. It rises and shrieks in a deafening blare. Not a police siren—

  Air raid!

  My stomach clenches. I want to scream, but no sound comes out. I floor the gas.

  I hunch forward. Heart pounding in my head.

  “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.” My hands grip the steering wheel. My foot crushes the gas pedal into the floor. But where is it? Behind me? What if it’s in front of me? Above my head? I duck.

  Pressing my chest to the steering wheel, I focus on the traffic light. “Stay green. Stay green.”

  I pray I will make it to the shelter, to Lily, to safety. I’ll make it. I’ve got to make it.

  “Please, please, please,” I chant.

  Hysteria wells inside of me. I am two meters from the light. It turns to yellow. “No, no, no.” I can still make it.

  “Wait, wait—wait!” More gas. I’m almost there.

  Red!

  I close my eyes, brace the wheel, and slam on the brakes.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The car screeches to a stop, skidding over the crosswalk.

  The siren is still blaring.

  “You idiot!” I scream. “Keep moving, Aggie.”

  I shift back into first, slam into second. I’m in fifth gear by the time I reach the other end of the intersection. My hands sweat the wheel.

  “If I make it …if I make it to safety, I will change—for the better, honest.”

  At the end of the block, I jerk the steering wheel left. Slide into a U-turn, screeching to a halt in front of the bomb shelter.

  I kick open the car door. If I make these ten meters, I will never try anything as stupid as this again.

  I’m running. But my feet, they’re so clumsy. I stumble. Catch myself and hurry on.

  If I make these ten meters, I will—

  But before I can finish my thought, a shrill whistle pierces the air.

  A blast of thunder rocks the ground beneath me.

  With meters to go, I am thrown off my feet. I land flat on the earth. My hands shield my head as I press my face to the ground. Around me is the sound of shattering glass as the sky rains window shards.

  I lay on the ground, afraid to look around. Have I been hit? Am I safe?

  Is it safe now?

  The ground shudders. A smell of smoke fills the air. Car alarms blare. I stay pressed to the earth and wait, hands over my head. Is it over?

  I listen, too frightened yet to move. My ears are ringing. My head pounds. My whole body shakes uncontrollably.

  “Aggie,” a gentle voice calls. “Get up. It’s okay. It landed in the parking lot. Nobody’s hurt.”

  Lily is leaning over me, stroking my back, pulling me up. Rolling onto my knees, I sit up, throw my arms around her, and start sobbing. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. My ears. My ears are ringing.”

  She rocks me in her arms. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  “What?”

  “I said you’re safe now.”

  We stay locked together until my breathing slows and the jarring in my ears subsides.

  “I was so scared.”

  “I was scared for you, too.” She helps me onto my feet.

  “Is it over?” I ask.

  “Until the next time. Come on, Aggie,” she says. “Get a hold of yourself. We’ve got a wedding to go to and you look like one of my soggy strays.” She wipes a smudge of mud from my face. “We need to get you accessorized.”

  I look at her, glance behind me, and start to laugh hysterically. “Accessorized?
I was almost pulverized, and you’ve got earrings on your mind? Lily, you’re crazy.”

  Lily wraps her arm around my waist. My legs wobble. I’m laughing so hard I can’t stand straight.

  “Come on, Aggie. Get a hold of yourself. We’re almost there.”

  But we aren’t headed the right way.

  “Shouldn’t we be going into the bomb shelter?” I pull away from her, gasping as my laughter turns to sobbing hiccups.

  “We should.” She smiles. “But the rocket just fell, so it’ll take them a while to launch the next one. You need a shower, and I already put the dress in one of the rooms.”

  “In the hotel? But I don’t have a room.”

  Lily pushes me forward. “The hotel staff is gone, but they’ve left a few rooms open for those of us whose houses have been hit.” She pulls me into the hotel. The marble floors are polished and echo the sound of our feet as we cross the empty lobby.

  “How did you know I was on my way?”

  She opens the door to one of the rooms and pauses. Turning to me, she smiles and shrugs. “Instinct? I don’t know, but I just had a feeling that you were out there and that I had to find you.” She laughs. “And then I got a call on my cell phone. And don’t you doubt it for a second: our guys know even what color thong you’ve got on.”

  I actually catch myself thinking about which one I’m wearing. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jonas said he wouldn’t let on about the red light, seeing as probably you were scared out of your spaghetti straps—his description not mine—and that it was probably the first and the last one you’d ever run.” She pushes me into the hotel room.

  “Lily, you’re too much.”

  “Shower,” she orders, grabbing the TV’s remote control.

  “Gladly.”

  “Make it snappy. We don’t have much time.”

  I help myself to all the freebies: shampoo, cream rinse, body soap, and complimentary body sponge.

  I turn the water to maximum heat. The stream is hard and the temperature close to boiling. I want to scorch the fear off of me. Boil, burn, melt it away.

  Once out of the shower, I search for my reflection in the mirror that is obscured by the steam. My palm squeaks against the glass as I try to clear a section. But as quickly as I wipe away the vapor, it gathers again and I disappear in the mist. Inside, part of me feels just as elusive. Fear. It’s not like I’ve never experienced it, but this time it was different. Anxiety in the pit of my stomach before an exam, jumping off the cliff of the Judah’ah into waters below, screaming in terror with the exhilaration that comes when losing control: those kinds of fear I’ve known. But not this.