Shayndel shook her head and went back to the barrack, where she sat on the bed and pared her nails as she told herself off.
In the ten weeks that she had been locked up in Atlit, she had grown comfortable, and even worse, proud of her status among the other prisoners. She had become complacent and docile. She knew that Malka and Wolfe would have made fun of her. They would have expected more of her. Shayndel wondered if those two would be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.
“Of course not,” said the voice of Malka that resided inside her head. “You will get married and have children and life will crowd out everything else. I will become an old memory, me and Wolfe. And don’t pull that face; you know I’m right.”
Shayndel paced the barrack, trying to clear her mind and stay calm until it was time to get back to the kitchen. She found Tirzah sitting on the steps at the back door, smoking a cigarette. “Don’t ask me,” she said, before Shayndel could say a word. “I have
nothing new to tell you.”
Shayndel sank down on the step and stared out at the mountains. It might be nice to live up there, she thought, but she didn’t much care where she was sent: mountains or desert, kibbutz or city, tent or bunker, as long as it was away from Atlit and these long empty days and Tirzah’s unrelenting scowl.
Distracted, Shayndel scratched at her forearms until Tirzah slapped her hands. They sat together, disliking one another, until Nathan rounded the corner, dragging his feet and chewing his lower lip.
“What’s the matter with you?” said Tirzah. “Did everybody stop laughing at your stupid jokes?”
“You have all the sensitivity of a cactus,” he said.
“I had no idea you were such a delicate flower.”
Nathan kicked at the dirt. “It’s off for tonight.”
Shayndel jumped up. Tirzah asked, “What happened?”
“They didn’t say. Maybe they need another day to assemble the men.”
“No, no, no!” shouted Shayndel.
“Calm down,” said Nathan.
“Don’t tell me what to do. I have to get out of here.” She knew she should lower her voice, but she couldn’t stop. “No more waiting. Now. Tonight.”
Tirzah grabbed her. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? Sleeping on a plank, surrounded by barbwire, watching other people get out while I’m left behind? Why am I still here anyway? Answer me. Why am I still a prisoner in this shit hole?”
Tirzah lowered her voice. “If you don’t stop yelling, I am going to slap you hard enough to loosen some teeth. Do you understand me?”
“Don’t be such a bitch,” Nathan said, putting his arm around Shayndel’s shoulder.
“It’s a twenty-four-hour postponement,” he explained as they walked into the kitchen. “We go tomorrow night. The moon will still be dark, and if you think about it, the extra day is a blessing. We have more time to get ready.”
“But what if they come and take these Iraqi men tomorrow morning?” Shayndel said. “Didn’t you say they were being sent somewhere else?”
“You have to show a little trust,” said Nathan. “My commanders know what they are doing, and the idea is to get them and everyone else out of here without any casualties. You yourself know this is not going to be easy. These people are not all strong or fit. Also we have the little matter of disarming the guards.”
“That’s no problem,” said Shayndel.
Nathan laughed. “Do you plan to take them on yourself?”
“I know those guns,” she said. “They’re Italian. The firing pins are so badly made you can practically snap them off with your bare hands.”
“Are you sure?” he said.
“She wouldn’t say it if she wasn’t sure,” said Tirzah. “You can get Applebaum and Goldberg to fix them tonight.”
Nathan put his hands around Shayndel’s face. “When this is all over and done with, I am going to take you out to dinner in a wonderful little restaurant by the sea in Tel Aviv.”
“What would your wife say about that?” Tirzah said.