26

Being a leader sometimes means
taking one for the team.

We line up with our rifles strapped to our backs and our canteens freshly filled with water. We’ve been told that sleeping bags will be issued at our final destination, but it might just be a rumor. What isn’t a rumor is that we’re sleeping in our fatigues—talk about roughing it.

The girls are freaking out about the toilet situation, so we’ve all come up with a plan to bring Jess’s biodegradable wipies in our pockets. As a last-minute grab, I snatch my pink satin pillow off my mattress. I won’t be able to sleep without it.

“What’s that?” Sergeant B-S asks me in the courtyard, before we’re ordered to march out. He’s pointing at my pillow, which I’m clutching to my chest.

“My special pillow. I can’t sleep without it.”

He shakes his head. “No. Zis is not beseder—not okay. Put it back.”

Well, it was worth a try. Luckily he can’t see the wipies hidden in our fatigue pockets. I set my pillow back on my mattress and hurry back to Sergeant B-S and the rest of my unit.

I’m not risking another fall like I had on the night of our run, so I find myself in a slow jog next to Miranda. “Are we friends again?”

She glances at me as we jog side by side. “Yeah. I was always your friend, Amy. I just got upset for a stupid reason.”

“Because Nathan was pretending to be my boyfriend? I’m sorry, Miranda. I know you like Nathan as more than a friend. It was insensitive of me to think you wouldn’t care that I made a deal with him to get Avi jealous.”

“It’s okay. I know Nathan likes Tori. Girls like me never get a guy. Seriously, I tried to hit on Nimrod a few nights ago and he didn’t even notice.”

That’s not a shocker, considering he’s gay. “I hear he’s already dating someone,” I say. “What about Noah?”

“Colorado Noah?”

“Yeah,” I say, feeling her out. “He’s such a teddy bear, isn’t he?”

“You mean chubby.”

“I mean nice. Like you.”

“Yeah, he’s nice.”

I nudge Miranda and smile. “Give up on Nathan, Miranda. Now don’t get mad at me for saying this, but I think you’ve been crushing on Nathan for so long because you’re afraid to like someone who might actually like you back. You’re stalling.”

“You’re acting like a therapist, Amy.”

“I’ve been to enough of them to know what I’m talking about. Open your eyes to new people.” I point to Noah, who’s up ahead giving encouragement to our unit, telling us to keep going even though we’re tired.

“He helped me on the range today,” she tells me.

I give myself an inner high five for instigating that little moment. We jog slowly beside each other, neither of us saying anything for a while. It could be because we’re panting from the jog … or it could be because my words are sinking in.

“Thanks, Amy,” Miranda says eventually.

“You’re welcome.”

We finally get to our destination, which is a makeshift campground in the middle of the Negev desert. I can just sense the Israeli scorpions and snakes waiting for a taste of American blood. It’s dark already, but the billions of stars in the sky brighten the night. I look up, wondering if Avi is looking at those same stars. I miss him so much I ache inside, but I’m trying to stay positive and strong. I’ve got to admit it’s tough to be running and setting other people up when the love of my life, the guy who makes me want to be a better person, isn’t with me.

Ronit tells us to sit in a big circle. She passes out cans of what looks like fancy dog food.

“What is this?” I ask her as I lift off the top.

“Dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“It’s called Loof.”

Oh, no! Loof! I remember the bathroom wall with the words Beware of the Loof! “Don’t we have pita? Or hummus?” I ask her. Listen, those are Israeli staples.

“No. It’s Loof or nothing tonight. This is what the soldiers eat on missions and in desert training. Remember, this isn’t a spa.”

I examine the muddy brown substance. “Do you eat it with a fork or a spoon?”

“Whichever you want,” Ronit tells me.

I look at my friends, all sniffing their own processed chunk of food/meat passing as a meal. I have to admit it smells like pasteurized liver, if there is such a thing. I admit I’ve never eaten liver before, even the chopped liver my dad made a couple of times. But it’s Israel, so at least I know it’s kosher and has been blessed by a rabbi.

“Plug your nose and eat the Loof,” Noah suggests. “Then it’s not so bad.” I watch as he scoops out a chunk of the stuff and chows down.

My friends are looking at me for direction. Should we follow in Mr. Positive/No Expectations’ footsteps or starve?

I could reveal that I brought my own provisions—Kif-Kafs—in the pockets of my pants. They’ve probably melted, but melted Kif-Kafs are probably better than Loof any day of the week.

But we’re soldiers now. And Israeli soldiers eat Loof, no matter how bad it is. I plug my nose with my fingers, scoop out a chunk, and eat it. “Mmm. Yummy.”

“Really?” Jess asks.

“No, not really. It’s absolutely disgusting. But we’re Jewish warrior women, right?”

Jess nods. Miranda nods. Even Tori nods. “Right!” they say in unison.

We look at Nathan. “Don’t look at me. I’m no warrior woman. I’m not eating it.”

Tori takes a tester bite from her little can. Miranda and Jess do, too. We all eat the Loof as if it’s a rite of passage.

“Nathan, don’t be a loser. Eat it,” Tori says, tossing him a fork.

Not wanting at provoke Tori’s wrath, even Nathan chows down. He’s a warrior too, after all.

A truck with a pile of sleeping bags in the back is waiting for us. We’re instructed to grab one and find a spot on the ground to sleep. Tori, who I haven’t had a chance to talk to in a while, comes up to me.

“So how’s your grandma?” she asks.

“Alive. I think she’s okay, at least for now.” I see a bandage on her neck that wasn’t there when I left the base two days ago. “What happened?” I ask, pointing to it.

“You promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

Tori says, “I got stung. By a worker bee.”

I suppress a laugh. “I thought you said they don’t sting.”

“Obviously I got my facts wrong. Subject over.”

Time to start a new subject. I crane my head, looking for Nathan. Ronit is handing him a small shovel. Gross—he’s about to dig himself a hole to poop in. He’s probably about to Poop the Loof. I shudder thinking about it. “Listen,” I tell Tori. “Nathan broke up with me.”

“It probably had something to do with you staring at that guy Avi all the time,” she says.

“No. It had something to do with you.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Me?”

“Yeah. Nathan likes you. He thinks you’re pretty and fun … when you’re not glaring, sneering, or insulting everyone.”

Tori places her sleeping bag on the ground next to mine. “Nathan isn’t my type,” she says.

“Why not? Sure, he’s a pain in the ass most of the time. But he’s funny. And smart. And cute. And, to be honest, he’s the best guy friend a girl could ever ask for. He’s just about perfect.”

Tori looks over at Nathan, coming back with the poop shovel. “Not interested.”

I wave Nathan over to us. He tries to act cool as he says, “Hey. What’s up? Mind if I sleep with you guys? I mean, uh, sleep next to you guys.”

As he lays down his sleeping bag, head-to-head with Tori’s with hope in his eyes, I tell him the truth. “Tori says you’re not her type.”

Tori nods to Nathan, emphasizing my statement.

“Did you tell her I was good in bed?” he asks.

I. Can’t. Believe. He. Said. That.

Tori’s eyebrows go up. “You guys had sex ?” she asks me, just as Jessica lays her sleeping bag alongside ours.

Oh, man. I’m the one who’s gonna need the poop shovel now for the flying bullshit about to come out of my mouth. I say a silent prayer for God to forgive me for lying. “Yeah. Nathan is better than … better than … better than eating a black olive without the pit.”

Nathan looks at me as if I’m a total mashed potato. Jess shakes her head in disbelief. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I hate olives in general, so having sex with Nathan has got to be better than eating olives, with or without the pits.

Tori gives him one of her sneers. “I think I’ll take a pass,” she says tartly.

“Give me a chance,” Nathan responds quickly.

“Why should I?”

Nathan kneels next to her and a sincere look washes over his face. “Because for some reason I’ve been itching to put a smile on your face since I met you.”

“Nobody can do that.”

“Won’t you let me try?”

I see Tori’s face softening. “You can try, but I guarantee it won’t work.”

“Ooh, I love a challenge.” Nathan slides into his sleeping bag and rests his chin on his fists, facing Tori.

“Are you gonna watch me sleep?” she asks, trying to sound annoyed. I notice she’s not sneering, which is a good sign.

“Yeah. Watching you helps me think up lyrics to my next song. After boot camp, I’ll take out my guitar and sing it to you.”

Tori wipes at her eyes. Obviously nobody’s ever done anything like that for her. She needs Nathan, whether she believes it or not. And he needs her.

I look around for Miranda. She’s usually with us, but we’re all settled and she’s nowhere to be seen. I finally see her in a deep conversation with someone a few yards away—Noah. He’s smiling at her. And laughing.

I slide into my own sleeping bag (after opening it and checking for snakes and scorpions) and bring George II inside it with me. George is cold on my unshaved legs, the hard metal of the barrel reminding me where we are and why we’re here. Once again I think of Avi, and what military exercises he’s been pulled off base to do.

“Are you wearing your bra?” Jess whispers.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

“The wire was poking into my side, so I took it off and shoved it to the bottom of the sleeping bag. Remind me to reach down and get it in the morning.”

My bra isn’t at all comfortable to sleep in, but I’m keeping it on. I put a sports bra on before we left, which I’m perfectly aware makes me look like I have a monoboob shelf in front of me. But it does the job of smashing my boobs down and together so they’re not bobbing up and down like a buoy in Lake Michigan when we run. Bouncing boobs is not an option.

Of course, squished boobs are not the most comfortable way to sleep. But whatever. I’m smelly from not showering, I don’t have my favorite pillow, the sweat between my squished boobs is itchy, and I’ve got a metal rifle named George II in the sleeping bag with me. The old Amy would whine and complain. The new and improved Amy sucks it up.

As I lie here sucking it up, trying to sleep but with my eyes wide open, I glance over at Tori. I see her hand sneak out to tentatively touch Nathan’s. He weaves his fingers through hers without saying a word and they fall asleep holding hands.

Which only reminds me of last night, when Avi and I fell asleep holding hands.

Argh. I can’t sleep. All I can think about as I look up at the twinkling stars above me is Avi.

“I can count every single rock under me,” Jess whispers. “How do they expect us to sleep?”

Now that Jess mentions it, I can feel every rock and pebble under my own body. “Maybe if we clear out the big ones it won’t be as bad,” I say, reaching under my sleeping bag for the big rock sticking into my backside.

Jess whimpers as she shuffles her body around. “Ouch. Remind me never to complain about my life back in Chicago.”

“And remind me to appreciate my dad more. He probably had to sleep like this all the time when he was an Israeli commando,” I say. “But the stars are so cool. Why don’t we see as many stars back home?”

“Probably because we live near civilization,” Jess says.

We both stare up into the sky. Seriously, there must be billions of stars above us. After a minute, a streak shoots through the sky. It’s there and gone before I know it, making me wonder if I’ve even seen it at all.

“Was that what I thought it was?” Jess asks.

“I saw it, too. I’ve never seen a shooting star before.”

“Me, either. Should we make a wish?”

I wish … (I can’t tell you, because then it might not come true. But I bet you can guess.)

As we’re whispering, I have the sudden urge to pee. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Come with me.”

“No way,” Jess murmurs. “I’m not risking getting bitten by a night creature. Wait until morning.”

I try to settle back in my sleeping bag. But since I’m not able to sleep, and I hear people snoring (Nathan is like his own little symphony), I take George II and decide to wander away from camp to find a perfect spot to squat. I need to find a place far enough away that I can take my panties and pants off, so I don’t make them grosser than they already are.

Eventually I find a large, flat rock jutting out from the ground. Thankful for the little light the billions of stars offer and for the fact I don’t have to dig a hole in order to pee, I situate half of my butt on the rock and the other half, well, you get the idea.

As I relieve myself, I hear little pop-pop-pops in the distance. Like gunfire. We’re in Israel, on the grounds where the military does its training operations … can Avi be just a few hundred yards away? In the past, gunfire would freak me out, but now it’s getting to be a familiar sound. I’m getting desensitized to it. Freaky, I know.

I must look ridiculous naked, from the waist down, sitting with half my butt on a rock and the other half hanging off—with an M16 strapped to my back while I’m intently listening to gunfire. If Avi could see me now (not that I’d let him see me pee, ever), he’d be proud that I’m roughing it without complaining.

If the Sayeret Tzefa trainees are on some sort of outdoor firing range doing night exercises, maybe I can say a quick goodbye to him. I’m aware it might not be the best idea, but I’m thinking positively. As I put my pants back on, I take a few steps toward the popping sounds.

When I hear more popping sounds, I hurry closer. Live ammo this close to the army base means training exercises, not war.

I’ve been walking for over ten minutes, praying that a snake or desert creature doesn’t think I’m their midnight snack. I wish I had my headlight with me so I could see better. Despite the stars, the desert has too many scary shadows. I don’t know if my eyes are playing tricks on me or if the rocks are really moving snakes and coyotes.

I climb up and over a steep hill. I think the firing range must be close, because the gunfire is getting louder. As I maneuver around a big boulder blocking my path, a large, strong hand clamps over my mouth.

I try to scream as loud as I can, but the hand around my mouth tightens and my attempts at screaming are useless. I’m spun around with the force of a tornado.