Chapter 7
Birthday

“Macy, what would you like to do for your birthday?” Ima and Abba asked.

“To visit Grandma,” I answered, without hesitation.

Everything was planned. We would leave after school on Thursday for a visit that would last until Saturday evening. I couldn’t wait!

But then, everything went wrong.

On the Wednesday before my birthday Abeva woke up with a very high temperature. What bad luck! Still, Ima felt bad for me and tried to make it work.

“Don’t worry, Meskerem, I’ll stay with Abeva, and you and Lemlem can go with Abba to Katzrin,” Ima reassured me.

But the next day, on Thursday morning, just as Lemlem and I were about to go to school, the phone rang.

“Oh! Oh no!” Ima exclaimed, holding the phone and raising her hand to cover her mouth in shock. She was shaking. I froze with my hand on the doorknob, Lemlem right behind me.

“What hospital?” Ima was asking, biting her lip. We rushed back to stand beside her. She wrote down some information and hung up the phone, sinking heavily into a kitchen chair. Lemlem and I waited impatiently for her to tell us what had happened.

“Abba was in a car accident,” Ima said finally, “but he’s all right, thank God.”

“So why is he in the hospital?” I asked. Lemlem burst into tears.

“Don’t cry; he’s okay.” Ima hugged her. “Abba’s in the hospital for some tests, and hopefully, he’ll be released soon.” Ima forced a smile and wiped away Lemlem’s tears.

I put down my schoolbag and helped Lemlem take off hers.

“What are you doing?” asked Ima.

“We’ll wait here for Abba,” I said.

“No, Meskerem.” Ima handed me Lemlem’s backpack. “You’ll take Lemlem to preschool and go to school. Trust me, Abba is all right. There’s no point in missing school. You will see him when you get home.”

“But, Ima . . .” I protested.

“No buts,” she interrupted me firmly. We did as we were told.

• • •

When we got home from school, Abba was already there. He was lying on the sofa looking quite pale, with a big white bandage wrapped around his left arm, which was hanging in a sling tied around his neck. I kissed his forehead gently and sat down beside him on the floor.

“How are you feeling, Abba?”

“Don’t worry, Macy. I’m all right.”

“Does it hurt, Abba?” asked Lemlem.

“Only when I laugh,” joked Abba. “My shoulder was dislocated; it’s really tender.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Another driver drove into my car at the intersection. He was in too much of a hurry and ran the light.”

Just then, Ima came in with drinks and said seriously, “Meskerem, I’m so sorry, but we’re going to have to put off our trip to Katzrin.”

“I’m sorry too. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it,” added Abba, reaching for me with his free hand.

“It’s all right, Abba.” I forced a smile. “I’m glad you are okay. Maybe Grandma can come and visit us?”

“We’ve already suggested that, but she doesn’t feel well enough to travel.”

“It’s okay, I can wait until next weekend,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I caught Ima and Abba exchanging glances, and I knew there was more bad news coming.

“Honey, the car is totaled.” Abba said softly. I was shocked. All my birthday plans, ruined! No Katzrin this weekend or next weekend . . . who knew when we would be able to go?

This was too much. I tried to be happy because Abba was all right, and that was what really mattered. But I couldn’t help it—I was furious. Even on my birthday, I couldn’t get what I wanted.

I turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door. Nothing was going my way. I flung myself onto my bed as the tears started coming. From the hallway I heard my dad say, “Poor thing. Her birthday is ruined. Maybe we should just send her to Katzrin by bus, if she wants to go so much.” I perked up, listening.

“Mike, are you joking? She’s not yet twelve years old! Alone? She would have to change buses about three times!”

I sighed heavily and sank back into my pillow. It was hopeless.

“Why three?” Abba was asking.

“From Herzliya to Tel Aviv, from Tel Aviv to Tiberias, and from Tiberias to Katzrin!” Ima sounded irritated.

“Adise,” said Abba, calmly, “Line 843 leaves Tel Aviv once a day, at 9 a.m., straight to Katzrin. She wouldn’t have to change buses at all.”

“How do you know? How long have you been thinking about this crazy idea without telling me?”

Abba sighed. “I called the bus company after your mother said she couldn’t come. Think about it. You know Macy is a very reliable girl.”

“I know that our daughter is responsible, but what about everyone else? Don’t you listen to the news? I will not have my little girl traveling across the country on buses! She can wait a couple of weeks to visit Katzrin.”

“It’s not a matter of a couple of weeks, Adise, and you know it,” Abba continued to argue. I couldn’t believe he understood how urgent this was for me, and I was surprised to hear him say, “Macy has been waiting for this visit for a long time. It’s not that complicated to travel from Herzliya to Tel Aviv and then get a bus directly to Katzrin.”

“Mike!” my mom’s voice was steel. “I can’t believe that you’re serious! Maybe you banged your head in that accident!”

This time, Abba didn’t answer, and I knew he’d given up. But my tears had dried. All I had to do was get a bus to Tel Aviv and then take line 843 all the way to Katzrin.

• • •

In the morning I pretended to prepare for school as usual, but instead of my schoolbooks, I put a change of clothes, my wallet, and some snacks in my bag. I could tell that Ima and Abba were being extra nice to me. I smiled and pretended that I was all right. I took Lemlem to preschool and watched the stream of children entering my own school. Then I hurried to catch the bus to the central station in Tel Aviv. I was worried that it would take me too long to find bus number 843 and I would miss the only bus to Katzrin.

I asked the bus driver what platform I needed, and he told me where to go. The Tel Aviv bus station looked like a giant mall, but I did not stop to look at the shop windows. I went straight to the platform to catch my bus to Katzrin.

I bought a ticket from the driver and sat down at the window, my heart racing like a thousand beating drums. I remembered the car ride from Katzrin to Herzliya when we first moved. It was a long drive. I was filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. In just a few hours (alone on this bus full of strangers!) I would see my grandma and Katzrin! The bus was filling up.

Someone asked if the seat next to me was empty. I nodded, and a young soldier sat beside me. His hair was cropped so short you could see his scalp. He pushed his duffel bag into the luggage rack, put his gun on his lap, and offered me a piece of chocolate as he sat down.

“Want some?”

I shook my head. My family had taught me not to speak to strangers. Finally, the bus pulled out of the station and we were on our way. The soldier looked around and then asked, “Are you traveling by yourself?”

“Why are you talking to me? I don’t know you!” I stammered and turned away, looking out the window.

“Sorry.” The soldier smiled at me. “I never met a girl who didn’t like chocolate before.” He broke a piece off the bar and offered it to me.

I hesitated. “No, thank you.”

“You know, you remind me of my little sister. She’s shy too. By the way, my name is Dekel.” He offered me his strong hand, and I shook it.

“I’m Mesk . . . Macy. And I’m not shy,” I said. The soldier was only being nice. Suddenly, I wanted to talk to him. “I’m going to visit my grandma in Katzrin.”

“So we have a long journey together.” The soldier smiled again, then leaned back and closed his eyes. I looked out of the window, thinking about school starting without me and wondered if anyone would notice that I wasn’t there. I reminded myself to keep track of the time, to call home before I was supposed to come back from school. I didn’t want them to worry about me. Suddenly, my stomach began to ache. Maybe it was the thought of my parents waiting for me at home or perhaps the excitement at finally being on my way to Katzrin. I folded my arms over my stomach and glanced at the soldier next to me. He was already asleep, but his presence reassured me. He looked so capable. I leaned back and closed my eyes too.