In the Envelope of Memory

by Ilana Haley

  So I said, Shalom, and hoped for the best. I asked the first boy on the left, a small thin creature with crooked rust-colored teeth and tiny deep-set eyes that glittered like new thumbtacks, his name. Didi, he said, and they all burst into uncontrollable laughter, shoving and poking one another, while Didi danced around looking like a mad thing in the night. Then a tall dark boy with oily black curls and wild eyes smiled at me crookedly. What is it, a kindergarten? What do I see, a little girl? How old are you, sweetie, ten... twelve? He said all this in a creamy voice, and through puckered lips he blew little kisses in my direction. The boys doubled over, shrieking like lunatics. All I wanted was to stop their laughter and this unexpected mockery of my authority. I wanted to smash that smiling face into tiny pieces and grind the pieces into the dust with my foot, but I didn’t move. I stood erect in front of them, determined to win the moment, and asked the dark boy his name. He only continued to smile. I strove to find words to save my honor, but all the clever words I had rehearsed vanished from my brain, evaporated into the boom of the desert heat. It felt as if I were watching a play, yet being inside it at the same time. I remember thinking, am I dreaming this?

  Finally, unable to think of anything, I shouted, Shut up! Just shut up! To my surprise, the tall one with the oily curls stopped smiling and slowly straightened himself up. He fixed his eyes on me with a long, penetrating look. I held my head high and glared back. I saw that the boys stopped laughing and stood motionless. Only Didi broke every now and then into what sounded like a shriek, but he stopped immediately after a look from the tall boy with the oily curls.

  I am Emil, the boy said, and I saw him look at his hands. The fingernails were bitten and bloody, and the hands were filthy. As if embarrassed, he rubbed them on the sides of his torn jeans. Emil, I said. Yes, he said and again gave me his brilliant smile. I’m appointing you to be in charge of this group. Now get everyone in line. I want to talk to all of you. And Didi mimicked me, Yah, Emil. Yah, yah. She wants to talk to you. And I heard Emil say, Shut up, Didi, but his voice was deep with affection. I didn’t feel half as sure as I hoped I sounded. I felt dirty and crumpled. My hair was sticky and damp and stuck out from under my cap, pricking my neck. And I was dripping with perspiration. All I wanted was to go home and take a bath. These boys were far from anything I had ever known, so poor and primitive—almost illiterate, utterly undisciplined. To me, born and raised in Kibbutz Regev, they existed only in stories or in movies. Who was I to walk into their lives? I had to remind myself constantly that I was a soldier in the Israeli army, and these boys were my responsibility.

  Once Emil got the group in line, they stood ill at ease, some kicking at little stones on the ground, others scratching their heads, and some only standing awkwardly with their hands in their pockets, looking at me blankly. No one laughed, not even Didi, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. I heard the wind whine, and I shivered.

  Then Emil said, Commander Liat, we are ready. And as he stood at attention—saluting me with his pelvis and belly thrust out, his shoulders hunched, his chest caved in—he looked so comical. It was my turn to laugh. Yet at that moment, looking at him, I was aware of a floating sensation, a fascination. At the same time, I noticed that all of the buttons on his shirt, except one, were missing, so I didn’t laugh. I stood staring at him for a long time, probably holding my breath, for I remember feeling dizzy. He just stood there and continued to smile at me brilliantly, perhaps a little mockingly. I wasn’t sure; I wasn’t sure of anything. The heat was so intense I felt as if I were melting.

  I suspected that Emil was making fun of me when he saluted me in such a theatrical way. Yet from that time on, he called me Commander Liat. Later he said that it made him feel good to call me commander and that it gave me importance. Don’t be offended, he said, if we call you commander, you look much bigger and more important—even if you are only a girl. Soon the boys came to the training sessions dressed in clean clothes, their hands and faces scrubbed. They quickly learned to drill and to use different weapons, but their favorite time was the night training, orientation by the stars. We had such a good time, lots of laughs and rapport. Everything was going great. And after a while, I even got used to Didi and came to like him.

  Didi was Emil’s shadow. Where Emil went, Didi went. What Emil said, Didi repeated. Didi had been orphaned when he was ten years old. He didn’t have brothers or sisters. He didn’t have anyone. And Emil had convinced his mother to let Didi come live with their family. It didn’t really matter, Emil had said, because there are thirteen of us, and one more wouldn’t make any difference. It didn’t take much to convince his mother. And so Didi moved in with Emil’s family and became one of the clan.

  Sometimes I would visit Emil’s mother. I would sit in the shade of her neat little hut drinking spicy tea, brewed especially for me, and we would talk. When I asked her about Didi, she said that after a while, she didn’t even remember that Didi wasn’t her own child. But sometimes—when Didi behaved completely nuts, as she put it—she would forget herself and say, I don’t believe I gave birth to such an ugly thing, and then she would remember and squeeze Didi into her gigantic bosom, and with tears in her eyes, she would say that she loved him as much as she loved her own children. But it wasn’t Didi she was concerned about. It was Emil.

  He’s very wild, she would say. Wild like a big black animal. He gets into much trouble; much trouble. You talk to him. He thinks you okay. She would say this in a kind of a stage whisper, and looking at me in a conspiratorial way, she would shake her head and click her tongue and spit against the evil eye. Emil was everyone’s favorite. The people in the village idolized him, perhaps also feared him a little—feared the toughness of his manners, his raw and, at times, violent temper. When people didn’t know him, they could never decide how to take him, and yet they loved him—and so did I.

  But things weren’t as smooth as all that, and all wasn’t as wonderful as I in my enthusiasm and naïveté was determined to believe then. Boys from different villages around Beer-Sheba formed gangs and fought one another, and sometimes the fights were so fierce they were severely injured. Instructors were strictly forbidden to go alone at night to the villages, and we didn’t carry weapons with us like other soldiers. We went to the villages in pairs; an army truck would take us from Beer-Sheba to the village and return a few hours later to pick us up. But at almost nineteen, I had the illusion that I was immortal. Doesn’t everyone at this age?

  About two months later, Zaki, my work mate, was ill. And without him, my commanding officer flatly refused to let me go alone to the village. You know the rules, he said. It’s out of the question. It’s against regulations. Then come with me, I said. You’re forgetting yourself, Corporal. Besides, there is an officers’ meeting this evening, which makes it impossible for me to go with you. And, he said, I have no one else to spare. All the instructors are busy. Sorry. He turned to go.

  But I refused to take no for an answer. Nothing bad can happen to me, I argued. I am familiar with the desert, and I love the desert. I know it like the palm of my hand—so what’s the big deal? I nagged and nagged until finally he gave in with a loud sigh. If anyone can handle the desert, it’s you, Corporal Liat Erez. Now go; I see the truck is ready to leave. Go. Even now, I see him standing there, a small, neat man looking at me with his eyebrows raised, his mouth a little open as if he were going to say more. But the truck, with me on it, took off, obscuring him in a whirlpool of gray dust.

  During that evening’s training session, the boys were strangely silent, but I noticed some peculiar hand movements that looked like secret signals. Quick flashes of the eye darted all around me. Suddenly the night seemed to be filled with whispers. I felt it closing in on me. It was spooky. My nerves were on edge. I asked Emil what was going on, but he merely looked at me and shrugged. Knowing Emil, I left it at that. We finished training early, and I decided to take a short walk by myself. I remember feeling agitated, my nerves still
on edge. I wanted to be alone. I would meet the truck on its way to the village. But when I told Emil, he protested. You’re not going alone, he said, suddenly looking grim, almost angry. Wait until they come to get you. I laughed and told him not to give me orders and not to worry. I can take care of myself, I said. And besides, I’m only going a little way to meet the truck. He gazed at me in a sort of sulky silence. I noticed a muscle twitching in his cheek. You’re worried about something, I said. Not at all, he said. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I wondered and was about to change my mind to please him. I didn’t. You’re always so nervous, I said. I left him standing there, scratching his head, looking sort of miserable.

  The night was perfect—the desert waiting, everything present in place, silent—beckoning to me, pulling me like a magnet toward its secrets. The desert haunted my mind. And although the moon was only a half-moon, it was very bright outside, like a white night, almost as bright as day but much softer. You know, one of those nights when the Milky Way flows all around you, and you feel as if you are walking, almost floating inside it, touching the stars with the tips of your fingers. And yet it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t affected by my last exchange with Emil, and for a time, his eyes walked in front of me like two black guards.

  Suddenly the silence cracked. I heard voices and turned. I felt alarmed because most people from around there knew me. Then I became aware of a mild sense of panic in my chest and began to walk faster. And when the boys caught up with me, one of them grabbed my arm while another put his hand on the nape of my neck. Little girl, he purred. My heart began to beat with great force, and I broke out in sweat. I said to myself, Stay cool, Liat. Stay cool. And I said to them, Hey, guys, what’s going on? Who are your instructors? What village are you from?

  But they only laughed and began to push and pull me between them, while the other two stood watching with their grinning mouths splitting their faces like two hyenas. Then one of them said, She’s this big shot, Liat. She works with Emil’s group. Let’s show Emil who’s king in this desert.

  And I said with as much authority and coolness as I could summon at that moment, cut it out if you know what’s good for you. But my words, stupid and useless, sounded hollow. The boys only continued to laugh, pinching my cheeks, pulling my hair, while they made strange clicking noises in their throats. Then one of them got hold of my hair from behind and yanked with such force I thought my neck would snap. He glued a garlic-smelling kiss on my lips, and that made me see red, and my adrenaline shot up. I began to fight, and I knew how because it was part of my training. I was fast; that’s the advantage of being small and light. But soon I was on the ground, fighting against what seemed to me thousands of hands and legs and lips. And the night didn’t seem so bright anymore with my arms pinned to my side and a grinning, menacing face looming above me. I sunk my teeth into hard flesh, and a sharp, sweetish taste filled my mouth. I spat. A boy slapped my face. Someone laughed while someone else was fumbling with my belt buckle. I kicked hard. Someone screamed. A hand was clamped over my mouth, and the world became dark and purple with a million stars falling all around me. Then someone said, I hear something. Let’s get out of here. Hurry.

  And the Milky Way became clear once more. I stood up trembling with rage, not even bothering to wipe the dirt and blood from my face. I thought of running after them. And then what? What will I do to them? I stood there and screamed, Bastards! You rotten bastards! Just wait. Suddenly I heard a high whistle and Emil’s voice shouting, They went the other way! Quick, get them! And Didi’s voice echoed, Get them, get them. Emil! I called. Wait! He halted abruptly, his body stiffening, then turned and saw me. Get them! he yelled to the other boys. No! I yelled. Go! he yelled.

  The boys ran. Only Didi waited. Emil ran toward me. I ran after the boys, shouting, Come back. Don’t start anything. You’ll get us in trouble. Come back! Come back! It’s an order! But they were oblivious to my existence. Emil caught up with me. He gripped my arm. Don’t interfere, he said through clenched teeth. You shouldn’t be here. What happened to your face? And your clothes? You’re a mess. What the hell! Where’s the truck? I saw his face flush, and his eyes became almost insane with anger.

  Obviously, the truck is late, I said, trying to sound nonchalant. And besides, you’re hurting my arm. Let . . . But he was looking at me wildly from under dusty curls with eyes narrowed like two black cracks, and he was panting like a dog on a hot day. I saw that his face became very pale, and I felt again that sweet pain between my throat and stomach that grabbed me every time I looked at him. And for a second, our bodies came in close contact, and his breath hit me in the face, and his mouth came down on mine. It was as if for a split second, we were completely alone, and all things seemed to pause and stand still until he let go of my lips. We stepped back from one another, and he cleared his throat and said, Stay here. It’s not your fight. And his voice sounded hollow and dark.

  Emil! someone called. Coming! And he ran. I ran after him, shouting, Emil, don’t. And I heard my voice as a whisper and saw the boys holding razors in their hands, and they hissed and whistled and circled one another like gladiators, and they kept tripping over each other and falling in a tangle then jumping up and circling and whistling and hissing again. I could hardly tell who was who and tried not to lose sight of Emil—he alone mattered, I thought only of him. Emil was the tallest among the whole mad bunch, and Didi was jumping at his side like a mad thing in the night. And it was awful, truly awful, and yet at the same time, terribly exciting.

  I too wanted to join the fight and abandon myself to some primordial instinct, some mysterious primitive calling. I too wanted to bite and hit and kick and hiss, even cut and feel and smell the sweat of those crazed bodies. I kept moving in and out of those confusing yet mesmerizing feelings like in a dream where nothing is real, yet all is so vivid. It was incredible. I saw Emil, and he was dark and predatory, and his eyes were narrowed and cold and reflected the light of the stars. And his lips were curled slightly away from his teeth in a savage smile, and Didi was dancing around him, shrieking and lisping and laughing. Then I saw Emil pull out a knife, and I leaped into the air and grabbed his raised hand and jerked at it with all my strength, and the knife fell to the ground. I heard Emil shout, Liat, stay back! And Didi echoed, Stay back, stay back. I screamed, Emil, look out! and threw myself on the ground to get the knife when suddenly I felt a sharp pain, and I knew that someone had slashed my leg.

  The next thing I saw was my commanding officer running toward me. I grinned at him stupidly and said, I’m all right. He didn’t say a word, but his hands shook as he bandaged my leg. I am sorry, I said. Shut up, Liat, he said. Just shut up. And I did. I saw that the boys were attended to by the four other soldiers from other villages who came with my commanding officer, and I saw Emil standing a few feet away, staring at the sky; I watched the excitement still burning in his eyes and the savage smile still splitting his mouth. And near Emil, gazing at him, stood Didi. He was holding a hand to his right ear, and blood was oozing through his fingers. And then I heard my commanding officer say that we were all under arrest, and the devil took hold of me, and I began to laugh, and my laugh sounded terrible. My commanding officer slapped my face twice and said, take hold of yourself, Corporal. And with tears welling in my eyes, I slowly returned to my senses, to the hellish heat, and to reality. I swallowed and didn’t cry.

  In the truck on the way to Beer-Sheba, Emil sat between Didi and me. Didi’s ear was taped, and he was moaning softly, his eyes never leaving Emil’s face, and Emil’s right arm around his shoulder. The boys sat among the four soldiers, expressionless. I was grateful that my commanding officer was driving because I couldn’t have faced him at that moment. My eyes followed the withered thistles on each side of the dusty road, and my spirit felt withered too. Once my excitement was gone, I felt ashamed and embarrassed and utterly depleted.

  At first, Emil wouldn’t look at me. And when he finall
y did, I saw that the extraordinary wildness had left his face, and his eyes had a gloomy, cold expression. He said, You enjoyed the fight. It was a statement, not a question. I nodded my head and turned my face away from him so he wouldn’t see my tears. After a while, his mouth relaxed into a slow smile, and he looked at me with his familiar look of teasing affection. He said that when he had realized that I wasn’t going to wait for the truck, he didn’t know what to do because they had gotten into a quarrel with another gang and were going to meet that night to settle things as he put it.

  How could you do this to me? I said. Why didn’t you tell me? He laughed a harsh short laugh and said, you must be joking. It was very stupid of you to walk by yourself. You got us all in trouble, and now they’ll send you away to do something safe, and they won’t even let you say good-bye to us. You shouldn’t have pulled that knife, I said. He looked at me, and his eyes narrowed, and he gave a short snort. Don’t be so dumb, he said. If I hadn’t pulled out the knife, you could have kissed this whole rotten world good-bye forever.

  And that shut me up. For a while we sat there swaying to the bouncing of the truck, avoiding each other’s eyes. He stared out at the moonlit desert, and I could see that under his anger was a layer of coldness and an unforgiving distance he had placed between us. You’re terribly naive about life, Commander Liat, he said. It’s time you grow up because the world isn’t as you imagine it to be—wonderful—and, he said wistfully, it’ll do you good to learn the facts of real life. He kept glancing at the bloodstained bandage on my leg, and I saw him clench his left hand. In his eyes, I saw something of fear or maybe of shame, but probably I only imagined it.