"You mean like dollars?" I ask. "Or shekels? I mean, I left my purse back in my suitcase."
Nathan nudges me. "He means pushups, Amy. Not money."
Oh. Right. "I knew that," I lie. I'm sorry if when someone says "give me twenty" my mind doesn't automatically think of physical activity.
Nathan flashes me a "loser" sign on his forehead.
The sergeant points to us, then the ground.
Nathan gets into position on the ground, supporting himself by his toes and hands.
"Can I do it the girlie way?" I ask. "Our gym teacher Mr. Haraldson lets us." When the sergeant looks confused I add, "You know, with my knees on the ground."
"Fine."
I get in position next to Nathan, knowing my white shorts are now beyond repair. When Nathan starts, I start. My knees are on gravel, and rocks are digging into my skin.
After I do one pushup, sweat drips off my forehead and lands on the gravel beneath me. I do a few more, then stop to look over at Nathan. He's groaning after a few minutes and lies down on the dirt exhausted and sweaty like me.
"You both are weak. Get up."
The sergeant has Nathan and me stand side by side in front of everyone. "Small ' is left, yamean is right. When I say small, you march with your left foot. When I say yamean, you march with your right foot. Understand?"
Nathan says, "Yes, sir!" like a total kiss-ass army recruit.
I raise my hand. "Excuse me, I have a question."
The sergeant looks at me as if I'm the stupidest person on earth. Sure, when it comes to marching I might lack the basic natural instincts. But get me on my own turf and I know all there is to know about the city and how to maneuver in it. Some people call Chicago a jungle, but it's my jungle and my turf.
I'm not used to this military jungle, though.
"What zee problem?" he says impatiently. It's weird-- when Israelis get upset their accent gets more pronounced. I know that from my dad, because he's Israeli.
Everyone is still watching, which makes me nervous. I even hear a few snickers from the American guys. Remind me to listen to every single syllable Sergeant "Don't-Call-Me-Ben"-Shimon (from now on referred to as Sergeant B-S) says from this second forward. I don't want to be put front and center again.
The sun is glaring in my eyes. I squint up at the sergeant and silently curse the poop hole I dropped my sunglasses in. "Yeah, I was um... I was wondering if you lift your foot on the smalls and ya'means or if you put your foot down on them. Could you clarify, please?"
"You put your foot down on them," my boyfriend's voice says from behind me.
Chapter 6
Avoid public humiliation at all costs -- especially in front of your boyfriend.
I whirl around to see Avi. He's a few yards away, walking toward me. His face is tan and his profile is chiseled like a Roman statue. His hair is a little grown out from his buzz cut. He's so hot and sexy I can't help but stare in awe at my boyfriend who professed his love to me in letters (yes, he actually sits down and writes actual letters to me when he can't call), and in voicemail messages he left when he visited me in Chicago. I've saved them all and listen to them every time I need to hear his voice. Not being able to hold myself still any longer, I catapult forward and wrap my arms around his neck.
"Avi!" I cry into his chest. "Are you surprised?" "Very." He gently takes my wrists and unwinds them from around his neck. He salutes the sergeant, who says something in Hebrew. Avi answers.
So this is a time when I wish I knew Hebrew. I take Spanish. A few months ago I told my dad to stop speaking to me in English and only speak to me in Hebrew. That lasted about an hour, because I wanted to rip my hair out from not understanding him and got annoyed by his hand gestures when he pointed to objects, trying to give me hints. I wanted to learn Hebrew, not play charades.
Avi looks down at me. "We can't talk now."
Beside me, Nathan is tense. The last time I was reunited with Avi, back in January when he came to Chicago, he'd caught Nathan with his arm around my shoulders. It was not a happy time in our relationship, especially when Avi found out a few days later that Nathan and I had kissed in the cafeteria at school in front of half of the Chicago Academy student body.
But that was a long time ago. I'm here in Israel now, standing in front of my boyfriend who's in the Israeli military until he's at least twenty-one. Avi is wearing a sand-colored uniform, unlike most of the soldiers on the base who are wearing olive green. All of us Americans are still in our regular clothes, so we look out of place among the real soldiers.
"I know we can't talk right this second," I tell Avi. "But after I learn how to do the marching thing, do you have any free time so we can be alone? Just you and me."
"Amy, we can't go anywhere alone. It's against base rules."
"But I'm your girlfriend, not some random?
I hear snickers behind Avi. Leaning so I can see who's behind him, I notice Nimrod standing with four guys and a girl all in sand-colored uniforms like Avis. The girl is covering her mouth to suppress her giggle. She's not wearing a stitch of makeup on her perfectly flawless skin, has long sandy blond hair with natural streaks in it tied up in a ponytail, and is really tall. To add insult to injury, she's got normal-sized, perfect boobs. I bet they stand at attention without a bra, while (as my mother always reminds me) God blessed me with boobs that need a little help being lifted.
I feel like an ogre next to this Israeli girl.
I would give her my famous sneer, but she's got a rifle so I figure it's in my best interest not to piss her off. I then notice they all have big rifles strapped to their backs. Avi does too.
Guns scare me. Especially big ones with bullets in them.
"Attention!" Sergeant B-S barks at me. I stand next to Nathan with my hands stiffly at my sides. We're still in front of everyone, so I guess our punishment for talking isn't over. This sucks.
The sergeant says something to Avi and his posse, then they all stand back and watch. "Ready," the sergeant says to Nathan and me. It's not a question.
Ready or not, I'm about to march. In front of the rest of my unit, and in front of Avi and his friends.
"Small. Small. Small-yamean-small. Small Small. Small-yamean-small. n Nathan and I follow the sergeant as we demonstrate how to march. I'm all too aware of Avis gaze on me, and I want to die from embarrassment because I'm royally screwing up. I'm smalling on the ya'means and ya'meaning on the smalls. It's not that I'm uncoordinated. I'm just nervous.
Glancing sideways, I catch sight of Avi. I can't tell what he's thinking because he's got a composed, soldier like expression.
As my eyes meet Avi's, I stumble into the sergeant, who must have stopped and barked stopping orders while I was still smalling and yameaning. "Oops," I say as my nose bumps his back. Actually, my boobs bumped him first because they're a gazillion times bigger than my nose, but I hope nobody noticed.
"B'amakom atz'or means you stop." Ronit clues me in.
"Got it. Thanks." I salute her because I want to be all military-like, but the saluting just brings more snickers from Avi's friends until he glares at them.
Oh, God, I hope he's not ashamed of me. What if his feelings for me changed since he came to visit back in January? What if he likes the gorgeous streaked-blond girl with the big rifle?
That very girl whispers to my boyfriend, then looks in my direction. Avi nods. Our eyes meet again, and I wish I could speak telepathically. But he just keeps up that stern military expression. It's driving me nuts.
I've seen Avi smile and laugh. I've made Avi smile and laugh.
Ronit calls out, "Girls, follow me! Guys, follow Susu!"
While we're scrambling to obey, Avi is at my side. The warmth of his fingers on my elbow sends shivers down my spine.
"What are you doing here?" he asks me. "I thought you were staying on the moshav with your dad."
"I was. Until I realized Jess and Miranda and Nathan were going to be on the same base as you. I thought you'd be happy to see me. Obviously I was wrong."
"Gefen, zooz," the sergeant barks out.
Avi turns his head to the sergeant, who doesn't look happy that Avi's talking to me. "I gotta go."
"So go," I say sarcastically. Okay, I know I'm acting like a complete brat but seriously... I came all the way to Israel and signed up to play soldier for ten days just to be with him, and he doesn't seem the least bit excited to see me.
"Amy..." he says, but I shrug his hand off me.
"Go," I repeat.
He sighs and walks away.
Chapter 7
Israel is .004% of the earth's surface.
They say the most valuable things come in small packages.
So now I'm depressed and want to go home. Seeing Avi in all his military splendor grilling me on why I came here wasn't exactly how I imagined it. I'm sluggish as I follow the girls inside a building and we all sit in chairs in a classroom. To my surprise, the snickering girl from Avi's unit came with us and is obviously about to teach us something.
"This is Liron," Ronit explains. "She's one of the few female operations specialists assigned to a new IDF commando unit called Sayeret Tzefa. They've just come back from parachute training and are spending a few weeks on our base before they head off to Counter Terror School. We're very lucky to have them here to train you."
The other girls are immediately impressed by Liron.
Even though she's not an official member of SayeretTzefa, by working alongside it she's as close as a female can get.
We spend the next two hours listening to her talk about the state of Israel and the countries that surround it.
"Who can tell me why Israel is so significant?" she asks.
I definitely know why it's significant to me, especially since for the past year I've been taking conversion classes at my synagogue. My mom raised me with no religion, and my dad is Jewish. Last summer when I came to Israel, I connected with my Jewish heritage and wanted to learn all I could about it.
I raise my hand along with a couple of the other girls, totally ignoring the fact that my sweaty armpits smell like rotten eggs.
"You, in the pink tank top,'' Liron says, pointing to me, Your name is Amy, right? Avi's chaverah?
"His girlfriend," I clarify.
"Chaverah means girlfriend."
"I knew that."
Liron smiles at me, and I notice not only is her skin Wawless, but her teeth are perfectly straight. "So Amy, why do you think Israel is significant?"
I sit up straight in my hot metal chair, which my thighs
have stuck to from the heat. My skin rubs on the metal with each movement, making a squeaking sound. It hurts.
It probably have thigh-burn later on. "Because it's the Jewish homeland," I answer.
Liron nods. "You're right. As Americans, you share the same democratic freedoms we do here in Israel."
"The Palestinians don't have it so easy here," Jess chimes in. "I mean, I'm proud to be Jewish and would never want to be anything else, but when will the fighting stop?"
Oh, no! "While Tarik would be proud of Jess for sticking up for his people, I'm not sure this is the best place to debate the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. And while I am usually all for a knock-down-drag-out verbal sparring session, I'm not sure anything but trouble can come out of a political discussion on an Israeli military base.
