A Life Worth Living

by Pnina Baim

  “See,” Gaby said. “Of everyone in this room, only me and Hillel drink coffee the same way.” She topped the coffees with a generous serving of milk and gingerly brought the mugs into the bedroom area.

  “It must be fate, then,” Shira said.

  “Indeed, it must be,” Gaby said. She handed one mug to Hillel with a huge smile and sat down next to him.

  Hillel winked at her and took a grateful sip. “Perfect.”

  “Would you like cake with that?” Gaby asked, passing him the tin of cake that Shira and Devorah Leah had been nibbling with their fingers.

  “Thanks, I’d love some.” He took a piece and offered it to Gaby. She took a bite from his hand and Hillel grinned.

  “Ew, you two are making me nauseous. I’m going to the chadar ochel.” Shira pulled a skirt over her pajama pants and ran a brush lazily through her long blond hair. Devorah Leah tied a colorful wrap-around skirt around her waist. “Coming soon?” Shira asked to Gaby.

  “Yeah, soon.”

  The girls left to go the dining room and Gaby slid closer to Hillel, tucking her feet underneath his thighs. “Do we have to go to lunch?” she asked plaintively.

  “It’s a good idea,” Hillel said.

  “But you are leaving tonight, and I’m gonna miss you so much!”

  “I know. But we still have this afternoon, and tonight we’ll do something fun before I go back, okay?”

  “You’re such a good boy,” Gaby said.

  “I’m not such a good boy. I just like doing the right thing.”

  “You always do the right thing,” Gaby said. “Listen, I want to tell you something.”

  Hillel looked at her expectantly.

  “I love you, too,” she said, looking at him shyly from beneath her eyelashes.

  Hillel beamed happily, and picked her up, putting her on his lap.

  Gaby squealed and put her arms around his neck.

  “You love me?” Hillel said.

  “Yes, very much.”

  They kissed and Hillel ran his hands down her back.

  “I really want to stay here with you,” he whispered. “But we can’t.”

  “I know,” she whispered back. People will talk, and then people will think things about her that might or might not be true. It was better not to give anyone the opportunity for some juicy gossip.

  “Later,” he promised.

  “Okay,” Gaby said, smiling. She gave him one more hug before they got up and went to lunch.

  Lunch was pleasant enough with lots of singing, a speech from the kibbutz rabbi, and plenty of hot steaming cholent that Hillel enjoyed three servings of.

  After lunch, they went for a walk around the kibbutz. Gaby showed him all the different projects and industries the kibbutz was involved in. Hillel was duly impressed and asked a lot of questions that Gaby was forced to admit she did not know the answers to.

  When the tour was over, they ended up at the playground, hanging out with Shira and Devorah Leah. Some teenagers came soon after, bringing with them snacks and drinks that they were more than willing to share with the b’not sherut and Hillel.

  Havdalah was a communal affair, and after good wishes for a shavua tov were passed around, Gaby walked Hillel back to his room.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” Hillel asked.

  “There’s an art festival in Tzfat tonight. Shira’s dying to go. What do you think?”

  “In Tzfat? That’s over an hour away.”

  “I know, but it would be fun.” When Hillel didn’t look appeased, she added cheekily, making her eyes half-lidded, “I’ll wear something sexy.”

  Hillel tried to suppress his grin. “It’s fine, It’s just that I still have to drive back to my base and get there by eight tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, so drive us there and we’ll find our own way back.”

  “All right, but you better wear something really sexy.”

  “Ohh, the bad boy is coming out in you,” Gaby said, and laughing, jumped out of the way when Hillel tried to swat her butt.

  “I’ll meet you in front after I take a shower and pack up,” Hillel said.

  “So like twenty minutes?” Gaby asked.

  “Ten minutes,” Hillel said.

  “Okay,” Gaby said. She ran back to her apartment and told the girls the good news.

  The girls shrieked with excitement and then rushed to get dressed. Gaby took a twenty second shower, and still dripping wet, went to the main room to find something cute to wear. She pulled on a tight jean skirt and pink top, layering it with a woolen gray vest. As she got dressed, she silently thanked Serena yet again. What would she do without all her cast-offs?

  Shira, not one to waste time getting dressed, took Devorah Leah’s wrap-around skirt and pulled on a chunky black sweatshirt over a black t-shirt.

  “That’s so Tzfats-out,” Gaby said, looking at Shira through the mirror while she put on eye makeup.

  “Tzfats-out,” Devorah Leah snickered, putting on her tightest jeans and a skimpy top.

  “Call me names if you want, but at least I know that it’s cold in Tzfat,” Shira reminded, looking at Devorah Leah’s outfit.

  “I’ll find someone to warm me up,” she smirked.

  “Take a sweatshirt just in case,” Shira advised.

  “What? Are you my mother now?” Devorah Leah said, irritated.

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Gaby took the sweatshirt from Shira and said, “Come on, let’s go. Hillel is waiting.”

  The girls skipped arm in arm to the front of the kibbutz, talking loudly about what they want to do once they get to Tzfat, and jumped into Hillel’s little white car when he pulled up in front of them.

  About fifteen minutes into the drive, Hillel pulled into a gas station to fill up. Shira, announcing that she was starving, pulled the girls inside with her to check out what the mini-mart had in stock. While Shira and Devorah Leah haggled with the young Israeli boy manning the counter over the prices of ice cream, Gaby checked out the selection of CDs.

  Devorah Leah, licking her ice cream pop, came to look over her shoulder.

  “The only good one here is Idan Raichel,” she said.

  “Who? Rachel?” Gaby asked, confused, looking at the cover image of an Ethiopian with a full head of dreadlocks, who was clearly male.

  “What?” Devorah Leah asked in an unnecessarily loud voice. “You never heard of Idan Raichel?”

  “Excuse me,” Gaby said, brushing her off but slightly embarrassed. She never seemed to know anything cool.

  “Please, allow me,” Devorah Leah said, taking the CD from her hand. She paid for the CD and the girls went back to the car where Hillel had finished pumping his gas and was waiting patiently by the entrance.

  “You’re gonna love this,” Devorah Leah promised as she passed the CD to Hillel to play.

  By the time they reached Tzfat, Idan Raichel’s CD had played three times and even Gaby was able to sing along.

  “He’s really good, right?” Devorah Leah said.

  “Yeah, he’s great,” Gaby said.

  Hillel parked the car in a parking lot, and the four of them walked to the festival. Tzfat, an ancient city of cobble-stone streets and mystics, was filled with throngs of people. The art festival brought out all the residents and then some. There was an outdoor market, with vendors selling artisanal foodstuffs and hand-crafted jewelry. Colorful lights and twinkly jangling beads were hung from stonewashed walls. The doorways and window frames of many of the buildings were painted a light blue to remind passersbys of heaven.

  Gaby held tightly to Hillel’s hand as they walked around, listening to the flurry of languages spoken around them. Devorah Leah walked next to them, afraid of getting separated in the crowds of people, while Shira danced around, checking out every stall.

  “Hey, come check this out!” Shira yelled out excitedly, picking up a portrait. “Look, it’s the artist!” She pointed to the man sitting in the stall, who nodded in acknowled
gment. “Amazing,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “An exact replica.”

  Shira flitted to the next stand, where glass figurines in bright, shimmering colors sat on display. “How cool is this? It says here that everything was made by hand.”

  The owner, a hippy-looking older woman, got into a deep discussion in Hebrew with Shira about the process of making hand-blown glass designs, while Gaby looked over the collection. There were the traditional vases and bowls, a beautiful white and silver glass candelabra, and kitschy designs of pumpkins, menorahs, snowmen, and a smiling sun.

  “Look how cute this is,” Gaby said, showing the sun to Hillel.

  “Do you want it?” Hillel asked.

  “Yes, please,” Gaby said, loving how she could just ask for something and Hillel would whip out his wallet and pay for it.

  “Camah zeh oleh?” Hillel asked the owner.

  “Shemonim sh’kalim.”

  “Wow, eighty shekel for a piece of glass?”

  “I really want it,” Gaby implored. Maybe Hillel wasn’t as easy as she thought he was.

  “B'shvilaych, shishim sh’kalim,” the woman offered.

  “Do you really want it?” Hillel looked uncertain.

  “Yes, I really want it. Please, please, please?”

  Hillel pulled out three bills from his wallet and gave it to the lady. She smiled her thanks and took the yellow glass sun from Gaby to wrap in pretty pink paper.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Gaby threw her arms around Hillel and gave him a tight hug. If she didn’t count Benny’s unintentionally-left-behind sweatshirt, this was the first present any boy had given her.

  “You see here, you make into necklace,” the owner said in heavily accented English to Gaby.

  Gaby looked down at the opening in the ornament where a chain could be threaded. “I will. Thank you.”

  The lady passed her the package and Gaby smiled her thanks. Threading her fingers through Hillel’s, she said to him, “You bought me the sun!”

  “I know,” Hillel said, with a grin, “How will you ever pay me back?”

  Gaby stuck her tongue at him. “We’ll see.”

  The group went from stall to stall, checking out the craft stuff for sale, eating the samples of cheese and cookies being offered, and enjoying the art on display until Hillel said regretfully, “I have to get going.”

  “Why?” Gaby said. “It’s still early.” Then, seeing the expression on Hillel’s face and remembering her earlier promise, she quickly added, “It’s okay. You go ahead. We’ll find a ride back. Thanks so much for taking us. I really appreciate it.”

  “Nah. I’m gonna drive you back. It’s not safe to tremp.”

  “Why isn’t it safe? Everyone here is Jewish.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Come on, I want to take you back to the kibbutz, but I have to leave now.”

  It was a little lame that Hillel always played by the rules. He couldn’t pull one all-nighter? But she didn’t want to argue, it was nice enough of him to go out of his way to take them to Tzfat. She’d listen to him this time. “Alright.” She turned to Shira and Devorah Leah and beckoned them to come, indicating it was time to leave.

  “No way! It’s so early,” Shira complained.

  Devorah Leah was busy talking up a punkish-looking boy standing by a wax candle stand and didn’t look too pleased to leave either.

  “He has to go back to his base,” Gaby said, feeling a little bad about ending the fun so early.

  Shira made a face, but took one more sample of cheese from a vendor and followed them back to the car. Devorah Leah handed her number to the wax candle punk and ran to catch up with the group.

  In the car, Devorah Leah and Shira were quiet. They were either sleeping or just listening to the CD, Gaby couldn’t tell. She stroked Hillel’s hand as he rested it on the stick shift, watching the road go by. When he pulled up to the kibbutz, the two girls got out of the car and left with sleepy goodbyes.

  Gaby lingered for a minute. “Thanks so much for coming to see me. I had a lot of fun.”

  “Me, too.” Hillel put his arm around Gaby’s neck. Gaby laid her head against his shoulder. The feel of his body was so comforting, she felt like she could stay in the nook of his arm forever.

  “I wish you could stay another night.”

  “Sorry, honey, there’s no concept of Sunday rest in Israel.”

  “I know! I still haven’t gotten used to a one-day weekend.”

  “Yeah,” said Hillel. Then a minute later, “Hey, my base is having a mesibah on Chanukah. You should come.”

  Gaby sat up. “Really? You want me to come?”

  “Sure, you could meet my mefaked and all my army buddies.”

  “Okay, sounds like a plan.” She kissed him on his forehead and then said, “You should go. I don’t want you to drive when you’re so tired.”

  Hillel nodded his agreement, and Gaby got out of the car. She waved as the car left the kibbutz, and when she couldn’t see it anymore, she went back to her apartment, holding tightly to her little yellow sun.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gaby was on her hands and knees, cleaning up yet another apple juice mess on the floor, when a thought occurred to her. She couldn’t do this anymore. She sat up, and looked down at herself. Her hands were grimy, her hair was stuck in a messy pony, and she hadn’t put on makeup in days. What had her life come to? Thankfully, there was only an hour left to gan. Maybe the girls would have an idea of something fun to do.

  Gaby groaned, remembering. It would not be wise to count on Shira wanting to do anything fun. Shira had broken up with Chen yet again, and lately all she wanted to do was watch TV. There had to be some way she could convince Shira to snap out of it because Gaby needed to get out of this tiny little world she had been inhabiting.

  It was Tuesday, only three days since Hillel’s visit, and already she felt like she was living in a parallel universe where the only things that mattered were changing diapers, reading story books to kids who couldn’t sit still, and singing the same five songs over and over again. Then she’d go back to her apartment and watch Israeli TV until it was time to go to sleep and start the cycle again.

  As incredible as it was to imagine, she still had only sporadic access to the internet, when she was able to screw up the courage to ask Chana if she could use her home computer. Once she did manage to get online, it didn’t seem worth the effort. The reply e-mails from Tovah and her other friends were brief and jotty, filled with talk about college and professors, stressful finals, and cute boys at the campus Hillel. On Facebook, there were all these pictures and status updates of everyone’s fun in the city, ice skating in Prospect Park, eating ice cream on Avenue J, Saturday night house parties… It was just a bigger reminder of everything she was missing out on, and it seemed easier to stay away. Israeli sitcoms and early bedtimes were all she had to count on to fill her empty hours.

  It was time for a change.

  After work, she walked back to the girls’ house. As usual, Shira and Devorah Leah had gone back to sleep after their shift at the barn. She sat on Shira’s bed and kicked Devorah Leah’s mattress.

  “Wha?” Shira asked groggily.

  “I gotta do something. I’m gonna go crazy.”

  “What’s your problem?” Devorah Leah said, lifting up her head slowly.

  “My problem is that I feel like I’m an old lady. I need to have some adult interaction, do something fun for a change.”

  Devorah Leah laughed at Gaby, and pulled her blanket over her head.

  “Come on, please! Aren’t you bored of milking cows every day?”

  Shira shrugged. “This is what we signed up for. We knew that this was the plan. It was gonna be a very laid-back year. Anyway, I like animals.”

  “Well, I came here because I just wanted my mom out of my hair. I didn’t know I’d be babysitting the whole day, every day, for the rest of my life.”

  “It’s not the rest of your life. It’s
just for the rest of this year.”

  “Very comforting.” Gaby pulled the pillow out from under Shira’s head. “Come on, you always know of something good to do.”

  Shira grabbed her pillow back from Gaby and leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes. Then, her eyes still shut, she said, “Beit She’an has some bars and stuff we could go check out.”

  “Awesome! DL, are you in?”

  Devorah Leah shook her head. “That guy I met in Tzfat is coming over tonight.”

  “Ohh, lucky,” said Shira.

  “On that thought, please leave tonight. I don’t need you raining on my parade.”

  Shira narrowed her eyes. “You can’t say that like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Raining on my parade. That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Well, how would you say it, then?”

  “How would I know? I left South Africa when I was six.”

  They both turned to Gaby. She shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Are we having a conversation about this? Look how boring our lives are. This is an emergency situation.”

  “Calm down, we just went to Tzfat like two days ago.”

  “Tzfat was three days ago, and it feels like forever. So we’re on for Beit She’an or what?”

  “Yeah,” said Shira. “But you have to find us a ride.”

  “No problem, will do.” Gaby jumped off the bed. As she reached the door, she turned back. Shira had fallen back on her bed, and she looked like she was ready to go back to sleep.

  “Get up before I pour water on you!”

  “Okay, okay.” Shira sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Gaby said. She left the door open, hoping that the fresh air would revive Shira a bit, and went to the office to see if anyone was leaving in the direction of Beit She’an, a medium-sized city not far from the kibbutz. As luck would have it, Oren, one of the kibbutz old-timers, was going in an hour and was willing to take them.

  Gaby ran back to the apartment to get dressed, hoping Shira had gotten out of bed. Thankfully, she was in the shower, and Gaby went through her clothes to find something to wear.

  Devorah Leah sat up on her bed, wrapped in her blanket, and watched Gaby waver between two skirts. “How come you never wear jeans?”