Freefall (17 page)

We reach the turn-off for the hospital. Yossi waits for me to draw up beside him.

“Sorry, can't take you any farther,” he calls out the window. “I've got to get back. Will you be okay from here?”

“No problem,” I say with a lot more confidence than I feel.

I drive around the side and leave the Ford in a half-hour parking zone. The hospital windows are all boarded up to protect against shattering glass when the rockets land, giving the place a haunted look. Some of the street lamps haven't been as fortunate, and the sound of splintering glass beneath my feet makes me shudder. I pull the kitten out of the crate and snuggle it in my arms.

“Hey, kitty,” I coo. “So far, so good.”

Then I stall, wondering how one coaxes a baby goat out of the front seat of a car.

“Baa, baa,” I say feebly. “Here, billy goat.”

It looks at me, and I swear I think it rolls its eyes.

“Out,” I command.

Nothing.

“Please?”

I hear it giggle. Goats don't giggle.

“Who's there?”

A boy, no taller than the goat, crawls out from behind a small stone wall. “Maybe if you pull the string around its neck,” he says.

“The string?”

He points to a dangling piece of frayed string. “Pull on it and he'll come out.”

“Okay.” I have my pride and don't want him thinking I'm afraid of a little goat. I tug on the string, and the thing climbs out. I shut the door quickly—just in case it had any other ideas.

“How'd you know that would work?”

“We've been taking care of the animals that Lily brings here.”

I almost say, “Oh you're one of them”—but catch myself in time.

“Aggie,” I say, introducing myself. “And you are?”

“Roy.”

Roy is short. He's got very fair skin and big round glasses that magnify his eyes. He's wearing a baseball cap, loose-fitting jeans, and a sweatshirt. Not exactly hospital attire, but then goats aren't usually hospital visitors. He has a book tucked under his arm, and his finger inside is marking his spot. He watches me with an amused expression.

“Thanks. I'm not great with—goats. What are you reading?” I ask.

“The Hobbit.”

“Yeah? It's good, isn't it?”

“I'm reading it for the second time,” he says. “Now I know how Bilbo feels living underground.” He stretches out his left arm and shows me his hospital bracelet. “I've even got a ring like he does that can protect me from anything.”

“Nice.”

He smiles. “Like in
The Lord of the Rings
. I am invincible.”

“So you are.”

We look at the sky. Somewhere in the distance is the sound of gunfire.

“You're not scared being out here on your own?”

“Sure I am. I'm scared of lots of stuff . But I had to get out for a few minutes and breathe real air.”

Life is strange, I think. The big wars get all the attention while, in fact, so many smaller, private wars are going on at the same time and most of us don't even think twice about them. I look at Roy, wondering what's on his mind.

“My fifteen minutes are up,” he says. “Are you coming in?”

“I can't. I promised Lily I'd get back in time for the wedding.”

“A wedding?” he asks.

“Her cousin is getting married tonight.”

Roy looks at me wistfully. “I wish I could go. I bet there's going to be cake.”

I look at him petting the goat, and before I know it I'm figuring out a plan. “Tell you what,” I say. “If you take the kitten and the goat inside, I'll be able to make it back for the wedding. And then later, I'll bring you some cake.”

“Really?” he says.

“Really?”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” I say.

Chapter Seventeen

I wait until Roy is safely inside
with the goat and the kitten.

I climb back into Lily's Ford and stick the key in the ignition. The engine groans, sputters, and dies. “No. Not now.” Turning the key again, I floor the gas pedal. Mustn't flood the engine, I think. It kicks over, threatens to sputter, but I pump the gas stronger and it roars to life.

A glance north and I shift into drive. Rolling out of the gates of the hospital, I breeze through the traffic circle. Like Lily promised, it's a straight ride and only a few kilometers. A piece of cake. Cake. I hope that Lily has found me something normal to wear. I'm actually excited about going to the wedding and think it will be fun to be surrounded by people, noise, action.

Nahariya is so quiet, the air feels heavy with silence. I roll down the window, but hear only the grinding of my wheels on the asphalt. Speeding up just a few kilometers over the limit, I find myself wishing Yossi were driving in front of me. I don't want to get stuck sitting at a red light.

I'm trying to avoid the tingling in my spine. My foot doesn't leave the gas pedal. I'd rather be a moving target than a sitting duck.

I cover another block and allow myself to breathe.

The main traffic light comes into view. It's green. I speed up even faster, racing toward it. The picture of the stickman starts flashing, even though he's the only pedestrian around.

I can make it. The air rushes in through the window, whipping my hair back. Two blocks to go!

And that's when I hear the siren. It starts as a low wail. I ease my foot off the pedal and cast a guilty glance over my shoulder. I was only going a few kilometers over the limit. The road is empty. Just my luck! Pulled over for a ticket the one time—

The low wail starts to build. I check the rearview mirror. There are no other cars on the road. Not even a police car.

Like a tidal wave, the siren washes in from the sea. It rises and shrieks in a deafening blare. Not a police siren—

Air raid!

My stomach clenches. I want to scream, but no sound comes out. I floor the gas.

I hunch forward. Heart pounding in my head.

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.” My hands grip the steering wheel. My foot crushes the gas pedal into the floor. But where is it? Behind me? What if it's in front of me? Above my head? I duck.

Pressing my chest to the steering wheel, I focus on the traffic light. “Stay green. Stay green.”

I pray I will make it to the shelter, to Lily, to safety. I'll make it. I've got to make it.

“Please, please, please,” I chant.

Hysteria wells inside of me. I am two meters from the light. It turns to yellow. “No, no, no.” I can still make it.

“Wait, wait—wait!” More gas. I'm almost there.

Red!

I close my eyes, brace the wheel, and slam on the brakes.

Chapter Eighteen

The car screeches to a stop,
skidding over the crosswalk.

The siren is still blaring.

“You idiot!” I scream. “Keep moving, Aggie.”

I shift back into first, slam into second. I'm in fifth gear by the time I reach the other end of the intersection. My hands sweat the wheel.

“If I make it …if I make it to safety, I will change—for the better, honest.”

At the end of the block, I jerk the steering wheel left. Slide into a U-turn, screeching to a halt in front of the bomb shelter.

I kick open the car door. If I make these ten meters, I will never try anything as stupid as this again.

I'm running. But my feet, they're so clumsy. I stumble. Catch myself and hurry on.

If I make these ten meters, I will—

But before I can finish my thought, a shrill whistle pierces the air.

A blast of thunder rocks the ground beneath me.

With meters to go, I am thrown off my feet. I land flat on the earth. My hands shield my head as I press my face to the ground. Around me is the sound of shattering glass as the sky rains window shards.

I lay on the ground, afraid to look around. Have I been hit? Am I safe?

Is it safe now?

The ground shudders. A smell of smoke fills the air. Car alarms blare. I stay pressed to the earth and wait, hands over my head. Is it over?

I listen, too frightened yet to move. My ears are ringing. My head pounds. My whole body shakes uncontrollably.

“Aggie,” a gentle voice calls. “Get up. It's okay. It landed in the parking lot. Nobody's hurt.”

Lily is leaning over me, stroking my back, pulling me up. Rolling onto my knees, I sit up, throw my arms around her, and start sobbing. “I've never been so scared in my life. My ears. My ears are ringing.”

She rocks me in her arms. “It's okay. You're safe.”

“What?”

“I said you're safe now.”

We stay locked together until my breathing slows and the jarring in my ears subsides.

“I was so scared.”

“I was scared for you, too.” She helps me onto my feet.

“Is it over?” I ask.

“Until the next time. Come on, Aggie,” she says. “Get a hold of yourself. We've got a wedding to go to and you look like one of my soggy strays.” She wipes a smudge of mud from my face. “We need to get you accessorized.”

I look at her, glance behind me, and start to laugh hysterically. “Accessorized? I was almost pulverized, and you've got earrings on your mind? Lily, you're crazy.”

Lily wraps her arm around my waist. My legs wobble. I'm laughing so hard I can't stand straight.

“Come on, Aggie. Get a hold of yourself. We're almost there.”

But we aren't headed the right way.

“Shouldn't we be going into the bomb shelter?” I pull away from her, gasping as my laughter turns to sobbing hiccups.

“We should.” She smiles. “But the rocket just fell, so it'll take them a while to launch the next one. You need a shower, and I already put the dress in one of the rooms.”

“In the hotel? But I don't have a room.”

Lily pushes me forward. “The hotel staff is gone, but they've left a few rooms open for those of us whose houses have been hit.” She pulls me into the hotel. The marble floors are polished and echo the sound of our feet as we cross the empty lobby.

“How did you know I was on my way?”

She opens the door to one of the rooms and pauses. Turning to me, she smiles and shrugs. “Instinct? I don't know, but I just had a feeling that you were out there and that I had to find you.” She laughs. “And then I got a call on my cell phone. And don't you doubt it for a second: our guys know even what color thong you've got on.”

I actually catch myself thinking about which one I'm wearing. “What are you talking about?”

“Jonas said he wouldn't let on about the red light, seeing as probably you were scared out of your spaghetti straps—his description not mine—and that it was probably the first and the last one you'd ever run.” She pushes me into the hotel room.

“Lily, you're too much.”

“Shower,” she orders, grabbing the TV's remote control.

“Gladly.”

“Make it snappy. We don't have much time.”

I help myself to all the freebies: shampoo, cream rinse, body soap, and complimentary body sponge.

I turn the water to maximum heat. The stream is hard and the temperature close to boiling. I want to scorch the fear off of me. Boil, burn, melt it away.

Once out of the shower, I search for my reflection in the mirror that is obscured by the steam. My palm squeaks against the glass as I try to clear a section. But as quickly as I wipe away the vapor, it gathers again and I disappear in the mist. Inside, part of me feels just as elusive. Fear. It's not like I've never experienced it, but this time it was different. Anxiety in the pit of my stomach before an exam, jumping off the cliff of the Judah'ah into waters below, screaming in terror with the exhilaration that comes when losing control: those kinds of fear I've known. But not this.

“Aren't you done in there yet?” Lily calls.

I come out wrapped in a white bathrobe. Lily has dressed in the meantime. Wearing a bright burgundy skintight dress and shoes to match, she could knock out a brigade.

“Well?” she asks, turning around with her arms up.

“You look—”

“Scrumptious?”

“Just the word I was thinking of.”

She jumps on the bed. “I'm beat. We've got a few minutes to gather strength before the partying begins.” Sitting on the bed with the remote in her hand, she starts flipping channels. “News. News. News,” she mutters. “Like sitting in a traffic jam and listening to the announcer say that traffic is backed up all the way to Tel Aviv. Don't they know we know we're in the midst of this?”

I climb on the bed beside her.

“Hmm, you smell good,” she says.

“Verbena shampoo and lavender body lotion.” I rest my head on the pillow and sink into the mattress. I should call my mom, let Dad know I'm fine, find out how Hila is doing. But I'm afraid that if I hear their voices, I'll lose it. I follow Lily's example and try and relax. “Now this part I could get used to.”

Lily hoots. “We could all get used to this part.”

She carefully rests on the pillow, fanning her hair to the side. She's touched up her makeup and put more gel in her hair. With her eyes closed, she takes deep breaths, and watching her like this, I can't help but see a vulnerability hidden under the layers of mascara and liner.

“I got you something,” I say, noticing that she's brought my backpack in from the car.

She sits up. “I love presents.”

I pull out a bag of jelly beans and hand it to her.

“
Yummy
,” she says, taking the bag from my hand. She rips it open and turns it upside down on the bed. Quickly, she sorts them into color piles and slides the licorice ones over to my side.

We munch the beans and watch the end of
The Sound
of Music
.

“Climb every mountain,” Lily croons. “Till you find your dream.” Lily looks at me. “The blondie does it better.”