A Life Worth Living

by Pnina Baim

Gaby grabbed her yellow sweatshirt and her phone and went outside. Shiloh was quiet and still in the moonlight, the stars shining brightly overhead. She started walking, navigating around bikes and children’s toys left lying in the dirt paths. She scrolled through the playlist on her phone and settled on Bad Meets Evil by Bruno Mars and Eminem.

  When she reached the top of the hill, she was greeted by a view of red-roofed houses below, soft lights emanating from each home, and a clear sky filled with twinkling stars above.

  “…a sky full of lighters,” Gaby sang softly to herself, and that’s exactly what it looked like. She sat down on a smooth rock and played with a few pebbles from the ground. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around.

  A small group of people were coming up the path, their faces shadowed by the moonlight and the scattered lamp posts.

  When they were a few feet away, one of them noticed her and waved. “Ahalan,” a girl called out to her.

  “Hi,” Gaby responded cautiously.

  “Oh, you’re from the new family that just moved here!” The girl moved closer to Gaby. She was wearing long loose black pants and a gray men’s t-shirt with cut-off sleeves and a shredded waistline. Another girl was wearing tight jeans and a low cut white t-shirt. Both had multiple silver necklaces and rings. Two boys behind them were dressed alike, in army-green pants, combat boots, white undershirts, and closely trimmed hair.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Gaby answered. “I’m Gaby.” She considered using the Hebrew Benny had painstakingly taught her, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the natives.

  “Ah, Gaby. I’m Shira, and this is Devorah Leah.” She pointed to the other girl, and then motioned behind her to the two boys still a little bit behind. “Those two losers are Chen and Saar.” The girls snickered.

  “Losers?” Chen reached the top of the path and pretended he was kicking Shira. “I’m the one who dragged the hookah up.”

  “And I am forever grateful.” Shira did a little dance around Chen.

  “Mah zeh? Adayin at lo medaberet Ivrit?” Saar asked Gaby with a wink.

  Gaby responded with a huge grin before she was able to stop herself. It was the soldier from the check point, this time without his gear and shades. “I’m still working on it,” she said.

  “If you need a tutor, I charge reasonable rates. Very cheap.” Saar walked over and purposefully sat down next to her.

  Gaby’s body tingled, responding to his attention like electricity in water. “Thanks, I’ll take it into consideration. How come you all speak English?”

  “I’m from South Africa,” Shira said. “We moved to Israel when I was six. My parents still don’t speak Hebrew.” She gave a short laugh.

  “I learned from TV,” Devorah Leah said.

  “Wow. How much TV do you have to watch to speak such good English? You don’t even have any accent.” She focused on Devorah Leah, trying to ignore Saar who had stretched out beside her and was openly staring up at her.

  “A lot!” Chen said. He crouched down on the ground and began setting up the hookah. He blew on a lit match held against a coal until the coal began to glow.

  “What about you?” Gaby turned to Saar. “Where did you learn your English?”

  “Who said I speak English?” Saar raised an eyebrow at Gaby.

  “Very funny,” Gaby said. She looked around, trying to break his steady gaze. “Hey, which yishuv is that one?” She pointed to a group of houses nearby.

  Saar leaned on one elbow and looked over. “That’s no yishuv. That’s an Arab village.”

  Gaby’s heart jumped a little in fear. “What? No way. They’re so close.”

  “Didn’t they tell you before you moved here? This is Palestinian territory,” Saar said in an exaggerated cowboy drawl. Everybody laughed.

  Gaby managed a small chuckle while moving away from the edge of the hill. “You guys aren’t scared to hang out right here? What if they see you and shoot or something?” She looked at both boys to double check. Nope, neither of them had their guns with them.

  “Nah, they’re not gonna shoot at us.” Saar lay back in the grass.

  Gaby looked around at the group. Shira was sitting in Chen’s lap and Devorah Leah was taking deep puffs from the hookah, blowing out the thick smoke in rings. They all looked completely unconcerned, but Gaby couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her through a sniper’s scope.

  “T’ragi,” Saar said, watching her with a small smile. “Nothing is happening right now. I promise.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Gaby asked.

  “You see that fence?” Saar pointed downward to what looked like a line near the Arab village. “It’s hard for them to get through. People don’t like the fence, but it’s a lot safer now with it.”

  Gaby nodded, slightly appeased.

  “I don’t get it. Why are you surprised that our closest neighbors are Arabs? Didn’t you come to check out the place before deciding to live in a yishuv across the Green Line?” Shira asked Gaby.

  “Well, we couldn’t afford the pilot trip that most people go on before finalizing their aliyah plans. I mean, if there’s no money for heat, there’s no money for a vacation in Israel.” Gaby shut her mouth quickly, acutely aware that she had just shared too much information.

  But Shira just nodded and Saar sat up to take a puff from the hookah pipe before passing it to Gaby.

  Gaby looked at the pipe warily. “I’ve never smoked hookah before. Is it like pot?”

  “No, it’s… less.” Saar motioned downward with his hand.

  Gaby took a puff. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “It’s not drugs,” Saar said. “It’s just to relax. Besides, you have to take a deeper breath.” He demonstrated, blowing thick smoke out through pursed lips.

  Gaby tried again, this time exhaling white smoke.

  “Madhim!” Saar slapped Gaby lightly on the back.

  “Todah rabah,” Gaby said, sounding as American as possible.

  Saar leaned close to her ear. “It’s like kissing when we smoke from the same pipe,” he said softly.

  “You should know I have a boyfriend,” Gaby said, more to throw him off balance than to create distance between them.

  “Really? Where is he? In your pocket?” Saar moved behind Gaby and wrapped his arms around her, slipping his hands into her sweatshirt pockets.

  Gaby giggled and squirmed away. “He’s Israeli but he lives in New York. He taught me all the Hebrew I know,” she added, fully aware that she was making her relationship with Benny sound more serious than it was.

  “Like, ani ohev otach?” Saar asked, giving her a wink.

  Gaby thought back to her unanswered messages. Benny would play this game where he would say something in Hebrew and if Gaby understood him, he would reward her with a kiss. After hanging out together the past couple of months, her Hebrew wasn’t too shabby. She had used the excuse that she didn’t know any Hebrew for years to get out of homework assignments. Too bad her school couldn’t come up with as good of an incentive as Benny had to get her to learn the language. But he definitely never said he loved her.

  Saar smiled knowingly. “Lo meshaneh,” he said and blew a puff of smoke in her direction.

  Gaby looked away from Saar’s all-seeing green eyes, and wished it really didn’t matter what Benny said or didn’t say.

  ****

  The next morning, fierce sunshine woke Gaby up. She groggily cracked open her eyes. She had forgotten to close the t’risim, the heavy white window shutters that were capable of keeping the room as dark as night regardless of how sunny it was outside. She reached over and shut them with a slam.

  Then, hearing noises in the kitchen, she got up. Maybe she would catch Rafi before he left for his first day of school.

  His room was empty when she peeked in. In the kitchen, her mother leaned against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee, looking at the view of mountains and bright blue sky through the window.

  “
Good morning, Gaby,” her mother said. “Can I make you some coffee?”

  “No, I want to go back to sleep. Where’s Rafi?” Gaby sat down on the daybed and crossed her legs underneath her.

  “He left for school already. His ride leaves at seven-fifteen.”

  “Wow, that’s early,” Gaby said. She may be a total loser with nothing to do, but at least she didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn. “Hey, are you going to the kindergarten today?”

  “Yup, my first day. And it’s not called kindergarten, it’s called ma’on. It’s for babies who are pre- kindergarten.”

  “That’ll be a nice break for you. Kids that young don’t talk back.” Gaby smiled.

  “Yes, that would be a welcome change,” her mother said ruefully. She paused and then looked determinedly at Gaby. “I’ll be home around four and I want to talk to you about something then.”

  “Talk to me about what?”

  “Let’s discuss it later. I have to go to work. I don’t have time right now.” Mrs. Kupfer turned to the sink and started washing her mug.

  “Come on, just tell me!”

  Mrs. Kupfer held the counter for a minute and then turned to face Gaby. “About going to seminary.”

  Gaby’s mouth dropped open. Every time they were getting along, her mother had to try to control her. “You are kidding. Right? I’m not going to seminary. It’s like thirteenth grade.” Wasn’t she clear when she said she wasn’t going back to school? Just because most of the post-high school population in Brooklyn came to Israel for a year to do a repeat of twelfth grade and to avoid responsibility, didn’t mean that she had to.

  “You need something to do. You can’t just sit around the whole day!” Her mother planted her hands on her hips.

  “I’m not! I painted my room yesterday, and today I’m going to start on Rafi’s room. I could also paint your room and the kitchen if you want …” Gaby bit her lip, trying to think of something else to add.

  “Listen to yourself! Looking for things to paint…” Mrs. Kupfer pursed her lips and shook her head. Then, in a more imploring tone, she added, “It might not be as bad as you think. You might make friends. Wouldn’t it be nice to live in Yerushalayim?”

  Gaby shook her head. “There’s no chance in hell I’m going back to that screwed-up type of school,” she said flatly.

  Mrs. Kupfer looked at her daughter for a long moment. Then she pushed herself away from the counter and left the house without saying another word.

  The screen door stuck open behind her, and the cheerful morning sounds of the yishuv came in, mocking Gaby, who was sitting there motionless on the daybed, staring at her hands.

  Israel was starting to look like a bad idea. Why did she think things would be different here?

  Chapter Five

  As soon as shabbos was over, Gaby got ready to leave. She took a quick shower, and then stood dripping in her room, trying to decide what to wear. Something cool that didn’t seem like she was trying too hard. She had made plans with Shira to hang out in Jerusalem, and she was pretty sure that Saar was going to come too. It had been fun hanging out with him the other night on the hilltop, and the attention he directed at Gaby didn’t hurt. It was flattering that a cute guy, someone who had the bone structure of an Abercrombie model and carried a machine gun for a living, seemed to be interested in her. Especially since the boy who she had thought was interested in her hadn’t contacted her at all since she had left New York.

  Staring at her meager collection of clothes, Gaby wished she had another shot to go shopping at TJ Maxx. After giving up hope for a sudden burst of inspiration, she settled on a pair of worn-out jeans and a black turtleneck. She added a red beaded necklace and twisted her hair in a loose French braid. A pair of flip-flops displayed her deep-red pedicure, a goodbye present from Tovah.

  Dressed, she sat down on top of her second-hand desk, another gift from a helpful neighbor, and, leaning in close to the fake gold gilt mirror that was hung on the wall over the desk, she carefully applied her makeup. When she was finished, she watched the hands on a salvaged black-and-white kitchen clock move until it was time to leave.

  Gaby opened her bedroom door. Her mother was in her room, busy with the laptop. Gaby scowled in her direction and walked past Rafi’s room. He was lying in bed, reading a book.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  “Hi.” Rafi put down his book. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks. I’m going out with some friends.”

  “Cool.” Rafi went right back to reading his book, something about Jews and baseball, based on the image on the cover.

  Gaby watched him for a minute. Shabbos had been a disaster. She was furious with her mother for wanting to send her to seminary, and she hadn’t wanted to go out of her room to eat the arranged meals, hosted by overly friendly neighbors. Rafi begged her to come with him, telling her that he was too embarrassed to go without her, and eventually she conceded. She spent both meals picking at challah and ignoring the conversation around her. The rest of shabbos she laid in bed, and obsessively speculated on why Benny still had not gotten in touch with her.

  “I’ll see you later,” Gaby said to Rafi’s back.

  “See ya.”

  Gaby slipped out of the house without her mother noticing, and made her way down the hill toward Shira’s house.

  Shira was sitting on the ground outside her house, picking at something in the grass, her bent head illuminated by the moon overhead. The windows of the house behind her were well-lit, and Gaby could see people moving around. Shira stood up as Gaby approached. She was dressed in another colorful ensemble, with baggy pants and a striped top made of hemp-like cloth. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders and her face was bare of makeup.

  She gave Gaby a tight hug. “Ready to go? The guys are waiting for us at the entrance.”

  Gaby smiled when she heard the plurality of the word ‘guys’. “Yeah, but could I go online for a minute? I just want to check my Facebook account.”

  “Oh come on, who cares? Let’s just go.”

  “No, please,” Gaby begged. “My mother won’t let me use her computer, and I really need to see if Benny wrote anything.” Gaby had told Shira all about her murky relationship with Benny, and Shira had advised that she should forget about him and get with Saar. This way, because Shira was dating Chen, they could all hang out whenever the soldiers were on weekend leave from their base.

  “Okay, but then you promise not to talk about him for the rest of the night?”

  “I promise,” Gaby said, willing to promise anything to get near a computer.

  Shira smirked. “I have a better idea. If Benny didn’t write anything to you, you have to make out with Saar.”

  Gaby pushed her away in mock horror. “You’re crazy!”

  “You know he wants to,” Shira sang, leading Gaby into her house. Gaby said a polite hello to Shira’s parents, who were cleaning up from shabbos, and waved to the numerous siblings who were strewn about the living room, watching something on the plasma TV.

  “You have a nice family,” Gaby said, as she sat down at the computer.

  “Nice is not the word,” Shira muttered.

  Gaby looked at Shira for an explanation, but then forgot about the remark as she quickly logged into her e-mail account and then Facebook. There was nothing much in her messages and notifications, just some comments from Tovah and her friends back home about how much they missed her. She bit her lip and went to Benny’s profile to see what he was up to.

  “Shira! Oh my God. He’s unbelievable!”

  “What? What happened?” Shira bent over Gaby shoulder to take a look. “He’s not that cute,” she commented, looking at the profile picture of Benny dressed in a backwards baseball cap and white wife-beater like he was an extra in a gangster movie.

  “He de-friended me. I do not freakin’ believe it.” Gaby stared at the screen in front of her, seething. Why would he do that? Was she really that annoying?

  “Come
on! Who cares?” Shira pulled on Gaby’s arm. “You’re wasting too much time on this. Let’s go already.”

  Gaby got up slowly, still looking at the screen in shock.

  “Look at it this way,” Shira said, wrapping her arm around Gaby’s waist. “You have a rebound waiting for you in the car.”

  Gaby smiled weakly, and let herself be pulled away from the incontrovertible proof that she wasn’t even worth being Benny’s Facebook friend. How lame was that?

  In the car, Gaby sat up front with Saar, while Chen and Shira kissed noisily in the backseat.

  “You like this song?” Saar asked her.

  Gaby shrugged, unable to disengage from the pity-party-for-one she was busy with at the moment. “It’s okay.”

  He was quiet for the next few minutes, listening to some Israeli song playing on the radio that he raised to full volume in an attempt to drown out the sounds from the backseat. “Moshe Peretz,” Saar offered.

  Gaby heaved a sigh and looked intently out the window.

  Saar gave up and stayed mostly silent the rest of the way, occasionally humming along to the music.

  When they reached Jerusalem, Gaby perked up a bit. The city was beautiful at night. The juxtaposition of the old stone structures along the highway right next to gas stations, combined with the swath of lights sparkling from the apartment buildings dotting the nearby hills, gave Gaby a feeling of being in a place that transcended time. A bridge, lit up in an eerie blue color, arched and twisted overhead as Saar drove underneath it.

  “King David’s Harp Bridge,” Saar said helpfully when Gaby turned back to look at the bridge in the rearview mirror.

  “Oh, cuz it’s in the shape of David’s harp?”

  “Ah, I see you know your Tanach,” Saar said.

  “That’s about the sum of what I know about King David,” Gaby retorted.

  “If you got questions, I got answers.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Gaby said wearily. She was sick of these confident boys who assumed she was fascinated by everything they had to say.

  Saar pulled into a tight space on a dark side street and expertly parked the car with two quick turns of the wheel. The group got out of the car and walked down the cobblestone street into a large, well-lit city square that was filled with people, little kiosks selling junk, and too many bars to count. Teenagers, their long wild hair curled into dreadlocks, hung around, sitting on the curbs and benches, playing music and calling out to each other.