by Pnina Baim
“Yes. The check for this semester bounced. I spoke to your father and I just can’t seem to make any headway with him.”
“You spoke to my father?” Gaby drew back. How did they know how to reach him?
The rabbi shook his head in frustration. “It’s very difficult getting through to your parents. They don’t seem to understand the situation. You seem like the only sane person in your family. Maybe you can speak to him?”
Gaby smiled widely, almost grateful that he had made things so easy for her. “Sure, I’ll take care of it.” Without wasting any time, Gaby stood up quickly. She smoothed her skirt down and left the office, skipping down the stone steps and then up the neighboring set of steps to the dormitory. This was something she knew how to handle.
In less than twenty minutes, Serena’s clothes and accessories were packed in Serena’s sturdy luggage, along with a couple of odds and ends of her own that she would consider wearing outside seminary.
For a brief second, she held Benny’s sweatshirt, and then shoved it back inside her locker. She wasn’t going to be weak anymore, wishing for something that was never going to happen. She was done with being controlled by other people. From now on, she was going to live her own life and make her own decisions.
She flicked through the long skirts and button-down shirts one last time. There would be no more need to fake being some Bais Yaakov girl anymore, and thank God for that. Leaving behind those items of clothing as they were, she walked out of her room, down the hallway and descended the staircase to the front door, the two suitcases bouncing down the steps behind her.
A cab passed just as she reached the curb, and she stepped in the street, fighting against the strap of Serena’s pink-and-black velour hobo bag to hail it.
She kept thinking someone would run out and stop her, but nobody did. The cab stopped, and while the driver, a swarthy man with a strong odor of cigarette smoke, took her luggage from her to load them into the trunk, Gaby jumped into the backseat. She slammed the car door shut, and leaned forward as the driver settled back in his seat.
“Tachanah hamerkazit, bevakashah.”
The driver nodded and started driving. Gaby leaned back and looked out the window as the seminary building receded. The weight that she’d been carrying since she entered the school lifted, and she took a deep breath, relishing the feeling of freedom.
“That was a dumb experiment gone bad,” she said.
“What you say?” the driver asked in heavily accented English.
“Nothing,” she said and smiled. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. Damn, it felt good to be free.
When the cab reached the Central Bus Station, she pulled out her one hundred shekel bill to pay the twenty-five shekel fare. She waited while the driver heaved her bags onto the sidewalk and then gave him the bill. He thanked her and handed back her change.
Gaby looked at the bills in her hand and shook her head ruefully. Minus the thirty shekel she’ll need to pay for the bus ride to Shiloh, she’d have all of forty-five shekel left to her name, a little less than ten dollars. The money represented everything that was wrong with her: nowhere to go and no money to spend.
She hoisted the overnight bag over her head and grabbed the two handles of her suitcases. Struggling up the sidewalk to join the line waiting to go through the metal detectors, she saw Hillel watching her, an eager smile on his face. Gaby smiled back, her dejected spirits lifting immediately. “Are you gonna help me or what?”
“Sure, I’d love to help you.” He moved away from the wall and took the handles of the suitcases from her. “Ariel, bo ta'azor li.” Another soldier left the entrance and took one of the suitcases from Hillel. Cutting the line, they put the suitcases through the detector. Hillel motioned to Gaby to give him the shoulder bag she was wearing across her chest. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed briefly. Hillel smiled, and with a flick of his hand sent her through the detectors. She waited on the other side as the suitcases came through one at a time, and then collected her bags.
“Well done. All clean,” Hillel said.
“Thanks. I try to hide my weapons really well,” Gaby said.
“Nice try. We can see everything in the suitcases, and I mean everything.” Hillel waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Gaby laughed. “I guess I have no secrets left.”
“Nope.” Hillel looked at her for a beat. “So what are you doing with your stuff? Going back to States?”
“Yeah, I wish. No, I’m just done with seminary.” Just saying the word made her feel bad. Seminary, and everything it represented, had one message for her; she didn’t belong.
“You’re in seminary?” The idea sounded even more absurd hearing it out loud from someone else.
“Not anymore.” Gaby hesitated, not sure if she should tell him why she left, but Hillel was already moving, taking her suitcases and walking to the elevator. The door opened just as they reached it, and they moved in together, joined by a number of other people with their assortment of bags.
For the minute that it took the elevator to reach the second floor, Gaby looked at Hillel with a stupid smile on her face. It was too crowded to talk, though the American protocol of training your gaze on the numbers indicators on the elevator wall didn’t seem to apply in Israel. Instead, the other passengers felt comfortable staring at the two expats in their midst.
Gaby followed Hillel down the polished hallway toward some metal benches. “Sit here. I’ll be right back.”
“No, no, no,” she intercepted him. “I’m paying for the ticket this time.”
Hillel narrowed his eyes. “Ticket? I wasn’t going to buy you a ticket.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I just…” Gaby stuttered and then stopped. How exactly was she going to apologize for assuming he was going to buy her a bus ticket just because he did it one time?
Hillel laughed at Gaby’s chagrined face. “Relax, it’s no big deal. I wanted to get a snack. You want something?”
“Oh, sure.” The heat from Gaby’s cheeks slowly faded. “Let me just get myself a ticket and find out when my bus leaves.”
Hillel sat down on the bench in response, and Gaby went quickly to the kiosk to buy her ticket. As soon she had her Rav-Kav back in her hand, she rushed back, nervous about making Hillel wait.
He was still sitting there, looking completely relaxed with his long legs, clad in green fatigues, stretched out on top of the suitcases. His gun, held in place by a green woven sling, was resting on his lap.
“Hey,” Gaby said, slightly out of breath. “Get your feet off my suitcases. They’re expensive.”
“Sor-ry,” Hillel said in an exaggerated drawl. “So, I’ll be right back?”
Gaby nodded, and took the seat that Hillel vacated. She might have been imagining it, but the metal felt warm to her, as if it had retained heat from his body. The stress from the morning’s confrontation seeped out, and she relaxed, waiting for Hillel.
A few minutes later, he reappeared with a thin red paper bag and two cups of coffee. “Here, you want some?”
“Yeah, I’m starving. I didn’t have a chance to eat anything this morning.”
He sat down next to her, pushing his gun behind him, his knees knocking against hers, and handed her one of the cardboard cups. Gaby took a sip, savoring the strong, aromatic smell and the burst of warmth that dispelled some of the cold from the fall morning. Hillel handed her a mini vanilla rugulah. She smiled appreciatively, and bit into the soft, buttery dough.
“Wow,” said Gaby, her mouth full from the rugulah. “This is so good.”
“I know. It’s my favorite.” He put the thin red bag down between them and took a sip from his coffee. “So what happened in seminary?”
Gaby made a face. “First of all, it’s a crazy school. I did not belong there and the truth is, I’m shocked that I lasted so long. You won’t believe what happened. This girl, Rikky, she died in a traffic accident, and then they threw out my only friend, who h
appened to be best friends with Rikky, for being too dark. Can you believe it?”
Hillel nodded in agreement. Anyone who had ever gone to a yeshivah knew what type of shenanigans the administration could pull off.
“So anyway, there was a problem with tuition which I didn’t know about. I told my mother that the school was way too expensive and she’d never be able to afford it, and she was like, don’t worry; I’ll take care of it. Obviously, she didn’t, because the dean called me into this office and he tells me that my family’s crazy, and can I take care of the tuition.” She had purposely left out the little tidbit about her father supposedly footing the bill and then not. That wasn’t a fact that was best used to impress boys. “So I said, yeah sure, don’t worry about it, and then I just packed up my bags and left.” Gaby threw her hands up triumphantly.
“What? You didn’t tell anyone?” Hillel’s expression was a mixture of shock and admiration.
“Nope, I just walked out. I left a note for my roommate to let her know what happened, but I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“Wow, that takes guts.” He handed her another rugulah, and bit into the last one.
“Well, you can’t just call my family crazy and get away with it. I mean, they are crazy, but only I get to call them that.” Gaby glared at him as if daring him to contradict her.
Hillel didn’t take the bait. Instead he said, “Yeah, that was wrong.” He crumbled the bag and tossed it into the nearby garbage can. He missed and got up with a sheepish chuckle to put it back in.
Gaby laughed at his clumsy attempt to be cool and licked her fingers. “I’m gonna go wash my hands. I’ll be back in a minute. Would you mind watching my stuff again?”
“Sure,” he said.
Gaby pulled her bag over her head, and while trying to balance it on top of the suitcases, her phone slipped out of the side pocket. “Oops,” she said, bending down to pick it up. “I guess that’s what I get for laughing at you.”
“Yeah, that’s what you get. Here, give me your phone. It’s gross to take it into the bathroom.”
Gaby smiled and handed him her phone, letting her hand graze his for a second. “I’ll be right back,” she said again.
“I’ll be right here,” he said.
She walked to the restrooms with an extra jaunt in her step. See, some people still liked her. Who needs that dumb seminary anyway? There was a whole world out there just waiting for her to explore. Leaving seminary was a good thing. A chance to reinvent herself.
She used the toilet and then stared at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She smoothed her hair and she wiped some sugary residue off the side of her mouth.
She was sure Hillel would still be waiting when she came out, and he was, playing with his phone. He put it away when she came back.
“Your bus is probably leaving soon.”
“Yeah, I know.” Gaby sat on one knee next to him, reluctant to leave him. He handed her the phone back and she played with it aimlessly, debating if she should call her mom to let her know she was coming home for good. As she scrolled through the names, she came across a contact, HILLEL, spelled out in all caps.
Without thinking, Gaby asked out loud, “Who’s Hillel?” and just as the words left her mouth, she laughed and looked up at Hillel, who grinned. “Ohhh, it’s you!”
“Yup,” he said.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself. If I wasn’t going through my phone now, I never would have made the connection.”
Hillel stretched his arm out against the back of the bench. “So you’ll call me?”
Gaby smiled. “You’re the guy. You’re supposed to call me.” Then, considering for a second, she said, “Tell you what. I’ll call you now, and then you can call me later.”
“Okay.”
Gaby pressed call on her phone and Hillel’s phone starting ringing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pressed the answer button, and said, “Hello?”
“Hello?” Gaby mimicked.
“Oh, it’s Gaby.”
“Who did you think it was?” Gaby said, her smile stretching across her face. “Do you have other girls calling you?”
“No one as pretty as you,” Hillel said with a wink.
“Wow, that’s smooth.” Out of the corner she saw the Shiloh bus pull up. She clicked end and said in a normal voice, “My bus is here. I gotta go.”
“Let me help you.” Hillel adjusted the handles of the suitcases and started walking toward the door of the terminal. Gaby followed, holding just her shoulder bag and phone. He shoved the two suitcases underneath the bus in the luggage compartment and then straightened up.
“So,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Gaby. She leaned over and gave him a hug. “Thanks for breakfast. It was yummy.”
“Mmm,” said Hillel. He squeezed her back gently and then released her. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay,” said Gaby. She waved and climbed onto the bus. After getting her Rav-Kav back from the driver, she found a seat near a window and looked out through the wavy bullet-proof glass to find Hillel. He was already walking back inside the station, but as if he could feel her watching him, he turned around and waved goodbye.
Chapter Twelve
The bus pulled into the Shiloh entrance and ground to a stop. Gaby got off and pulled her luggage from the bottom of the bus. She looked at the two suitcases sitting on the grassy plot and then up at the huge hill that stood between her and her house. As she contemplated the enormous obstacle in front of her, she realized that she hadn’t told her mother that she left school. Gaby sat down on one of the suitcases. Suddenly, she was completely exhausted. How was she ever going to get home?
The bus drove away, leaving behind a cloud of dust, and still Gaby sat. She stared at the hill in front of her as if it would suddenly disappear. It didn’t.
The entrance gate clanged open and a dusty white car drove through, a hand coming through the window to wave to the guard at the gate.
“Allo, rotzah tremp?” a voice called out.
Gaby jumped up in relief. “Yes!” she responded immediately.
The trunk creaked open. A middle-aged man, with a colorful knitted kippah perched gingerly on top of his balding head, stepped out of the car. Waving away her attempt to help him as he schlepped her luggage into the truck, he motioned to her to get into the car. A minute later, he settled himself back into the car and began driving. “V’az, mi at?” he asked in Hebrew.
“I’m Gaby,” Gaby answered, with a smile. Help had come in the jolliest manner possible.
“Ah, Shalom, Gaby,” the man said. “Ani Motti Sperlin. V’mi at mevakeret?”
Usually, when Gaby spoke in English, Israelis would switch to English, a language most of them seemed to know fairly well. She wondered if Motti was insisting on speaking in Hebrew in an attempt to teach her the language. Regardless of his intentions, she just couldn’t resist his jovial manner.
“No, I’m not visiting anyone. My family lives here.”
“B’emet! Walla! Ah, at m’mishpachat Kupfer, nachon?” he asked with a beaming smile.
“Nachon,” Gaby nodded her agreement.
“Okay, az atem tz’richim lavo l'echol aruchat erev etzleinu.”
Gaby paused for a second to consider his offer. Motti must have taken her silence for confusion because he repeated his offer of dinner and then mimed eating, while making appreciative signs signaling delicious food.
Gaby laughed. Only in Israel would people invite strangers they just met to eat a meal in their house. “Sure, that would be nice.” She definitely didn’t have anything else to do, and who knew if her mother had managed to make shabbos this week?
Motti pointed out his house and then drove around the block to drop Gaby off at hers. He handed her the suitcases. “L'hitraot bentayim.”
“L’hit,” Gaby said, smiling shyly. She watched the little car disappear around the corner and then turned back to her house. Immediately, her good mood vanished. This wasn�
�t going to be pretty.
She dragged one suitcase up the stone steps, and then went back for the next one. By the time she was ready to go into the house, she was uncomfortably sweaty.
Pushing open the door, she paused at the entrance, waiting to see if anyone was inside. Thankfully, the house was quiet and dark. Rafi must still be in school, and her mother at work.
Quickly, she pulled the two suitcases into her room and got to work, putting all of Serena’s stuff into the previously empty wardrobe. When she was done, she stood back and admired all the new, trendy clothes that were neatly folded by color and hung up by length. She never had this much, and whatever she did have, she bought on sale at TJ Maxx or Kohls. These clothes were different. They didn’t stretch out or pill after one wearing, and they fit properly. Now, if only she had somewhere to wear them…
With one final, fond pat, she took a fitted navy blue dress that would be good for the Friday night dinner at the Sperlins and went to take a shower. Telling her mother about the invite would be one way to soften the inevitable upcoming confrontation. Her mother would not be pleased when she found out that the whole seminary experiment had blown up in her face.
***
Hillel’s car drove up to the bus stop in Shiloh and stopped in front of Gaby. “Hey,” he said with a smile.
“Hey, yourself,” Gaby answered. It felt great to see him, so calm and relaxed, an island of tranquility in her turbulent world. She stood up and stopped by the driver side. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Hillel said.
“Nice car.”
“It’s a friend’s.”
“Where’s your gun?”
“I left it at the base. But if you like how I look carrying it, next time I’ll take it with me.”
“It’s okay. I think I’ll manage.”
Gaby stood there smiling stupidly for a minute, and then with a mental shake of her head, she went around to the passenger side. Hillel leaned over and gave her a one-armed hug. “How was shabbat?”
Gaby reflected on the events of the weekend. “At first it was really bad, but then it was really good.”