“Hmm, I’ll bet,” she said.
***
Every morning, SSG Hadar came to Ima’s bunk and personally forced Ima out of bed. At first, she complained, cursing at him and calling him names. But SSG Hadar persisted by pouring cold water over her head and dragging her out of bed. She tore at him with her nails, but he was quick and avoided her attacks. “You might as well try to work with me because I’m not giving up,” he said.
She stuck her tongue out at him. Surprising her, he laughed. The next day he came to drag her out of bed with a handful of hard candy.
“Look what I have for you,” he said, pulling the colorful wrapped candy from his pocket.
“I don’t want candy. What do you think I am? A child?”
“Well, you are acting like one, aren’t you?” he asked.
She glared at him then laughed. “Oh shit, just give me a piece of candy. I could use a little sugar right now.”
He laughed, too, and handed her the pile of sweets. She opened one and put it into her mouth. “It’s good.”
“Yea,” he said, “they’re my favorite. Have you ever had raspberry hard candy before?”
“Actually, no.”
“It’s rare. And you see, Ima, I care enough about you to share my rare candy with you.”
She couldn’t help but smile.
“Come on now. Let me help you,” he said. “If you have to be here in the IDF anyway, let’s make this whole thing easier on both of us.”
“I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that people are forced to serve Israel when they don’t want to?”
“No, I don’t. I think that Israel needs its people. In turn, our country gives us its all, its everything.”
“Well, I think it’s unfair. I think that people should have the right to choose whether they want to be here or not, and I don’t. I don’t see the point. I want to go home.”
“I have a very special day planned for you today, Ima.”
“Hmm, I’ll bet. More exercise, more torture…” She grunted.
“We’ll see…give me a chance…”
That morning Ido took Ima to a building that was newly constructed. They walked inside. The young woman at the desk knew Ido by name.
“Hello, SSG Hadar, you’ve come to do some volunteer work again?”
“Yes, I brought a new soldier with me.”
The woman at the desk smiled at Ima. “Welcome,” she said, “I’m Tamar. If you two need anything, just let me know. The kids will be glad to see you again, SSG Hadar.”
“I’m glad to be here.” He smiled. “Is it possible that the kids could have the day off from studying so that we can visit with them?”
“I’m sure it will be fine. I know that they are at recess right now. Let me see what I can arrange as to giving them the day off from class,” Tamar said.
“Thanks.” Ido smiled at Tamar then turned to Ima. “Follow me.”
They walked down a long hall and passed several rooms where children were sitting at desks in class with a teacher at the front of the room. Then they came to an indoor area where there were children playing. Each of them seemed to have a physical handicap. Some were missing limbs, and others had trauma to their faces. But as soon as they saw SSG Hadar, they called out his name and came toward him as quickly as their disabilities would allow them to move.
He walked to each one of them and gave them a handful of candy as he emptied his pockets. Ima watched without saying a word.
“What’s wrong with them? This isn’t a hospital. It looks like a school,” she whispered to SSG Hadar.
“It’s an orphanage. All the kids in this room came from another orphanage that was bombed in a terrorist attack. They get special treatment here because of their physical and psychological disabilities. They still take classes, though. The fact that they have been damaged does not mean that they no longer have any worth. Israel will find a way to bring out their personal talents. But today, they will not study. Today is an exception because we are here.”
All afternoon the children played with SSG Hadar. Ima was amazed at his ability to charm them. But she was also astonished at the fact that the kids didn’t seem bitter or angry. They were orphans, and they’d been hurt in a bombing, but still, they laughed and played. It seemed as if they didn’t know how bad things were for them.
As the day progressed, Ima began playing with the children, and as she did, she forgot her own misery. They were smart and alert. It was obvious that they were not being ignored. Instead, each of them was being trained and educated according to his or her abilities. They knew they were treasured, and because of this, they had self-respect and self-esteem.
In the car on the way back to the base, Ima turned to look at SSG Hadar. His profile as he drove was strong and righteous.
“They’re an amazing bunch of kids.”
“Yes, they are. Do you know why?”
“No, actually, I don’t. I cannot believe they aren’t angry because of everything that’s happened to them.”
“I brought you here for a reason. What you saw today, Ima…That’s Israel! We don’t give up on our own. We work with our people. We help them, and we never discard them, no matter what. Every single person here is taught to fit in and become a productive member of our society. That’s why, no matter what you say or what you do, I will never give up on you.”
She could not look at him. She turned her face toward the window of the car and felt a tear form in the corner of her eye. How could this man still have faith in her when she did not even have faith in herself?
SSG Hadar used light exercise to free her from her depression. He did not push her as hard as he might have pushed another soldier, someone who was more adjusted. She needed tender, loving care, and so he began to work with her slowly at first. He sat beside her at breakfast, and talked with her while they ate. However, his real goal to make sure that she ate. He knew that all of this would take time, so he waited and waited.
SSG Hadar had done this before. In fact, he was well known in the IDF for fixing the toughest cases. His work with misfits had earned him a hero’s reputation amongst the other officers. It was a status that embarrassed him. He knew from experience, that she would eventually talk. Once she felt she could trust him, she would tell him what had happened to make her this way. And after she began to open up to him, he knew instinctively that he would be able to help her.
To Ima, SSG Hadar was funny. Things that would have irritated her in the past now amused her. Looking at life through SSG Hadar’s eyes, Ima could not help but laugh at herself. He actually had a way of making the training tolerable, sometimes even fun. She even began to feel that she might be able to live without drugs. Maybe…
Ima jumped back and fell on her rump the first time she fired a gun at target practice. SSG Hadar laughed, but not at her, with her. He extended his hand to her and helped her to her feet, and then she laughed, too.
“I never realized it would be so loud or so intense,” she said.
“You have a good eye. I can tell.” SSG Hadar stood close to her and helped her to hold the rifle properly. “Now aim,” he said, both of them looking forward at the target. But he felt her hair brush against his face, and his heart beat like a triphammer. “Ready?” he asked.
“I think so…” She fired and hit the target, not the bullseye but the target.
“Great job!” he said. “You’re going to put the others to shame. You have the natural talent of a marksman.”
She laughed. “I hope I’ll never have to go to battle.”
“Don’t worry. I’m training you for office work,” he said. “You’re far too pretty to go to battle. You’re going to have to get married and make some beautiful Jewish babies someday. We need more Israelis,” Ido said. But what he didn’t tell her was that he still wasn’t quite sure that he could trust her, and he would not let her have access to a gun when he wasn’t around—at least not yet.
&nb
sp; Why did he say that about making babies? Was he trying to seduce her? Not another one of those men who wanted one thing from her. She thought SSG Hadar was different. She hoped she wasn’t wrong about him. That would be so disappointing…
But he did not try to touch her or kiss her. He was just kind and easy with her, letting her work through her insecurities one by one.
In the evening, when the others gathered to talk or play cards, SSG Hadar took Ima walking. In the first several weeks, neither of them spoke much. Then he began telling Ima a little about his past.
“So I was born here in Haifa. My mother is a school teacher; my father is an electrical engineer. They met and got married very young.”
“Were both of them native to Israel?”
“Yes. They had two more children. I have a sister, who is older than me, and I had a brother, but unfortunately, he died at birth. My parents have always worked hard. They believe in this country. They believe in the power of a Jewish homeland. And that’s where I got my values, I guess because Israel is the most important thing in my life.”
“Every Israeli says that. Every Israeli except me,” she said.
“You’re so cynical, Ima, why?”
“Well, you really want to know?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”
“My father was killed in the Six-Day War. He was a lawyer. I don’t remember him at all. My mom and grandma raised me. My grandmother was a Holocaust survivor, and apparently, she adopted my mother. They don’t talk much about it, and my mom gets all flustered when I ask questions. I’d really like to know more about my background, like who my mom’s birth parents were. You know, just so that I could know if I have any genetic predisposition to any diseases. But when I ask my mother, she avoids the questions…well…
“Anyway, my mom was never much of a mother. She was too caught up in this foundation she created for the widowed wives of Israeli soldiers. Yep, everyone loves my mother. She will do anything for anybody as long as they aren’t in her family. And I mean anything. She was always ready to help—anyone but me, that is. I was ignored most of the time. She was always on the phone with one of her friends or members. And if she wasn’t on the phone, she was out.
“My gram is okay, but she’s old. She hoards things. It’s kinda strange. No matter what it is, Gram will find a use for it. She keeps old string and pieces of fabric. What can I say? She’s a little odd. I wish I’d known my dad, but I was raised by two women.”
“Women are just as strong as men,” he said.
“Stronger, I think. Women can control themselves. Men are controlled by their dicks.”
“You have such a foul mouth, Ima. Not all men are controlled by their sexual desires. Some men actually care about their character and their integrity.”
“Oh sure. I’m sure men like that are in story books. Not in real life. I’ve never met one.”
“Well, you have now. I am not controlled by my urges. I find you to be a beautiful woman, yet I would never think of taking advantage of your position. You see, Ima, how I see myself is more important to me than how the world sees me. I am responsible to myself for my actions. And when I go to sleep at night, I sleep with a good conscience because I believe that I am acting in the right way. Do you understand?”
She nodded but twisted her mouth as she struggled to believe him. It was true. He’d always acted with honor. In fact, he’d never used bad language the way that she did. She smiled to herself quietly. Ima knew that she used vulgar language to get a rise out of people, to have an effect, to offend, to get their full attention. And somehow, she knew that SSG Hadar understood her fully, the way no one had ever understood her before.
They walked quietly for a few minutes. Then she turned to face him. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but I won’t. I’m your squad leader.”
“So?”
“So I don’t think it’s appropriate that we engage in that sort of thing…you know?”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Well, then I am telling you.”
“You don’t find me attractive.”
“I just told you a few minutes ago that I think you are beautiful. But I will control my urges, my friend Ima. I will help you, not take advantage of you.”
The evening walks SSG Hadar and Ima shared became a daily ritual that Ima anticipated with pleasure. He was the first man she’d ever felt that she could trust entirely. And as the weeks flew by, she felt closer to him than she’d ever felt to anyone.
Because she was happy, Ima began to see the world through different eyes. She even began to feel more kindly toward her mother and grandmother. She wrote them long letters as she lay on her bunk at night telling them about how new life felt and about Ido. However, she could not bring herself to mail them, not yet. It felt strange to write about him. In fact, writing brought all of her feelings to the surface, and, as she held the pen in her trembling hand, she felt tears form in her eyes.
Could she be falling in love? Ima? The girl who didn’t believe in love? The girl who used sex to manipulate men against their own sick nature? But SSG Hadar…Ido was different. He was unlike any other man she’d ever known. And Ima believed in her heart that something inside of her, something crucial, had changed. In fact, she hardly knew herself as she continued to write the letter. When she finished, she folded it and placed it in her footlocker at the head of her bed. Someday she would send them, but not today.
It had been a long time since Ima had given any thought to her appearance. She’d hacked her hair off in the bathroom when it got too long, and she failed to comb it so often that it was always a mess of knots. Sometimes, she drew thick black eyeliner around her eyes just for shock value. Other days, she wore no makeup at all. Now she looked in the mirror, really looked at herself. She was unkempt, sloppy, a frightened child who took no pride in herself. This look of the walking dead no longer served her. In fact, it became important to Ima that Ido think she was pretty. And as she gazed at her reflection, she doubted that even an angel would find it possible to see her as attractive.
So she asked one of the other girls who was a hairdresser before joining the IDF, to cut her hair. Because of the uneven length, Ima’s hair had to be cut to her shoulders. But, after the fresh cut and shampoo, her hair fell into golden curls, just like her mother’s had at her age.
Then she went to the commissary and purchased a pale pink lipstick and matching rouge. She abandoned the heavy, black eyeliner and replaced it with a light coat of mascara. When Ima looked into the mirror, she saw a surprisingly young, beautiful girl with an air of innocence. How could this be? she thought. Innocent? Hardly.
But that night, when Ima and Ido went walking, Ima felt a thrill of excitement travel through her as she saw the look on Ido’s face. There was no doubt in her mind that he noticed the difference. However, unlike any of the men in her past, Ido did nothing about his attraction. When Ido didn’t try to kiss Ima, she became angry for allowing herself to be so vulnerable.
In fact, she decided that she would put a stop, here and now, to any feelings she might be developing for Ido. She would ruin this before it started, and she knew just how to do it. She would just tell him about her past. She would tell him everything. Then he would see her for what she was, and she could go back to being comfortable and safe as a person without feelings.
“Ido…”
“Yes?”
“You don’t really know much about me.”
“That’s true,” he said, looking up at the stars. “It’s a beautiful night, yes?”
“Yes, I suppose. Do you want to know more about me?”
“I want to know only what you want to tell me.”
“I’m ugly, Ido. I’m damaged, and I’m ugly inside,” she said, hating herself for wanting him to love her and feeling undeserving of his love. She wanted to look into his eyes and see that he felt disgust and disdain toward her. Only
then would she be free of these feelings.
“I was raped. Beaten and raped by an old, disgusting pig-of-a-man. He left me for dead, but I wasn’t dead. I only wanted to be dead…” She was crying, and her nose was running.
Once she’d said the word rape, the rest came spewing from her mouth like vomit. She told him how terrified she’d felt when she got into the car and found that the door and window handles had been removed. The man’s words came rushing back to her. He’d called her a whore, a slut. His hands, his terrible, thick hands covered in black, curly, pubic-like hair, forcing themselves inside of her innocent body.
She wept now as she’d never wept before with sorrow so heartfelt that the sound of it tore through the night, like the pain of a dying creature. The shame she felt after it was over, the disgust and hatred she had for her own body. She told Ido. She told him all of it. How painful it was when she’d gotten up and tried to run away, only to be caught and punched in the face until she fell to the ground.
She choked on her sobs, but she could not stop the flow of the words. Ima told Ido of the terrible agony, of how her body had ceased to be her own when this horrific devil-of-a-man had parted her and invaded the deepest, most sacred place inside of her. Then she told him how she’d despised her femininity and how she’d used her own body as a tool to get the drugs that blocked all of her emotions and made her numb.
Suddenly Ima began to vomit, purging the deepest, darkest memories from the depths of her soul. When she finished, Ima fell to the ground, covering her face with her hands. “So now you know…now you know what I am…”
Ido knelt beside her, gently pushing her vomit-soiled hair away from her face and behind her ear. Then he took his hand and lifted her chin forcing her to see his eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ima,” he said.
The kindness and sincerity of his voice drove the pain deeper inside of her, and she winced at the tenderness.
“Yes, but what came after the rape was my fault,” she said, the anguish clearly seen on her face. A deep wrinkle had formed between her eyes. Her skin was blotchy with tears, but still, she continued. It was as if she could not control the words. They had taken power over her. Now she would put an end to the silly dreams she’d been having about a future with Ido. It would all stop right here, right now. He would know the truth.
To Be An Israeli: The Fourth Book in the All My Love, Detrick series Page 29
