How to Ruin Series Part 173

He loosens my hand and shows me the nail indentations in his skin.

"Sorry. Truth is, I'm freaking out."

He puts his arm around me, holds me tight to him, and lightly kisses the top of my head. "I'm here for you. Always. You know that, even if you don't always want to believe it."

Whenever I've needed Avi for my minor but frequent emergencies in my life, he's been there for me. Whether it was on the base or on the phone or in person, he's always around when I'm desperate for someone to keep my spirits high and lift me up ... even physically.

He slows his pace when we get closer to the room. "Remember, it's okay to cry."

He shrugs when I glance up at him. "My mom told me that after my brother died."

"And did you cry, Avi?"

He bites his bottom lip and nods. "Yeah ... I did." He clears his throat and lifts his head high. "Come on," he says, nudging me forward into the room.

I take a deep breath and peek my head inside. Safta has an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Her eyes are closed and it looks like she's sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, her pale complexion making her look like an angel. My dad is sitting next to the bed. He rushes from the chair and opens his arms to hug me, but when he takes a closer look his eyes go wide with shock.

"Amy. Mah carah ? What happened to you?" He gestures to my arms and chin as he inspects my scratched face.

"Oh, that. Umm ... I kinda fell on rocks.

Well, I guess skidded is more like it."

"You look like you've been in battle."

"That's kind of how I felt. But it's better today. I've turned into a warrior woman."

Sort of.

Back when I begged my dad to let me go on this trip, he warned me not to complain no matter how hard boot camp turned out to be. Either I could stay at my aunt and uncle's house with him on the moshav all summer (with possibly no chance of seeing Avi), or I could go on the army portion of t h e Sababa trip with my friends (and possibly see Avi). But if I chose boot camp, I'd better suck it up.

I'd like you to know that this is me sucking it up. Pre-army Amy would definitely be whining Aba, they make us get up before the sun is up, and run in the dark, and pee and p.o.o.p in stinky holes, and sleep with our guns, and eat jam with bees in it, and do boy pushups, and march in straight lines, and scale walls, and sleep in beds with springs missing above our heads, and dig holes with big, hairy spiders in them ...

... but I don't.

" I s Safta going to be okay?" I ask, because that's the only concern that I have at this moment. I can't lose my only living grandparent. G.o.d can't let that happen.

Although what really scares me is that G.o.d can let that happen. Rabbi Gla.s.sman says that death is a part of life. We don't have a choice to live, and we don't have a choice as to when we'll naturally die.

"They'll be taking her for a CAT scan in the morning. We'll know more after the scan and when we get the results of her blood test. When she woke up she was in pain and disoriented, so they gave her a sedative. I don't expect her to wake up until the morning, so you might as well go back to the moshav and get some rest." He inspects me again. "Wait, you look different, and it's not just the scratches.

Did you get a haircut on the base?"

"Yeah. It's a long story; don't ask."

"Okay, I won't." He knows better than to ask for details, because he's well aware of my special ability to get into trouble wherever I go. He shakes hands with Avi.

"Thanks for bringing Amy here."

"Ayn by'ah-no problem. They gave me a forty-eight-hour leave."

I stand next to my safta, bow my head, and pray silently to G.o.d to take care of her -just in case He's listening and just in case He wants to answer my prayer.

I don't know what I'll do if I lose her. I didn't even know I had a grandmother until a year ago, and now here she is in a hospital. I feel like she's slipping away from my life already. She never let me tell her how much she's helped me spiritually.

During my Jewish conversion cla.s.ses, whenever I thought about the Jewish matriarchs, I always imagined they would look and act exactly like my safta. I read that Abraham's wife Sarah gave birth at the age of ninety and died at the ripe old age of 127. I wish my safta could be like Sarah (obviously not the giving birth at ninety part ... just the living until 127 part).

"Amy, I'm gonna step out so you and yo u r aba can talk alone. I'll be right outside the door if you need me," Avi says.

My dad stands beside me and strokes my back as we both look down at the sweetest woman I've ever known. "I came home from school when I was six and told her an eight-year-old named Ido had pushed me,"

he tells me. "Can you guess what she did?"

"Went to school and threatened Ido if he didn't leave you alone?"

"No."

"Called Ido's mother and told her that her kid was a bully?"

"No. She told me to handle it myself.

She said I'd have to deal with bullies all my life-so I might as well figure out how to deal with them at the age of six."

I try to picture my grandma as a young woman, strong and full of energy.

"Did you know she was in a war?" my dad asks me.

"What war?" I know all Israelis have to serve in the military. The country has been through their share of wars since they were recognized by the UN in 1948, but I can't imagine my grandmother wearing an army uniform or carrying a gun.

"She was in the Sinai War of '56. You should ask her about it. They wouldn't let women on the front lines back then, so she dressed as a boy."

"Whoa. I can't believe my grandmother was in a war. I can't wait to tell Roxanne back at school, who brags that her great- grandmother was one of the first women pilots." Pilot, shmilot. My grandmother was on the front lines. I guess I'm not the only kick-a.s.s warrior woman in the family.

"So what happened with you and Ido? Did you tell him to stop pus.h.i.+ng you?"

"Oh, I told him. Right after that, he pushed me again."

"What'd you do?"

"Well, the next day I came to school with a gift for Ido."

"Like a fist-in-your-face kind of gift?"

"No. Like a new basketball my aunt gave me after she visited the States."

Let me get this straight. "Ido pushed you, and you gave him a gift?"

"Since my mom wouldn't intervene, and there was no way I could fight a big kid two years older than me, I figured trying to be friends with him was my best option."

"So you became friends with the bully?"

He nods.

"That's a sellout. You shouldn't have to give the bully something. That's just wrong on so many levels."

"I had to sacrifice a little in order to get what I wanted. We ended up being friends."

I guess we all sacrifice at some time or another. I just hate having to do it so often.

"Aba, is she going to die?"

"Eventually."

"You know what I mean. Is this i t ? Is this the start of the end?"

"She had her final chemo treatment last week. They suspect her white blood cell count is low."

"But what if it's more than that?" I cry.

He puts his arm around me. "Let's not worry about that until the morning, when we know more. Let Avi take you back to the moshav."

"I don't want to leave Safta," I say, watching the oxygen mask fog up when she exhales.

"I know. But you can't do anything for her tonight. You can come back as soon as you wake up in the morning. Now go."

I hug him tight, wondering how I could have ever been distant from my father. I'm so grateful G.o.d brought him back into my life. I don't know what I'd do without him, especially now, with my mom and Marc starting a new family.

I don't know if I'll fit in. Will they still have time for me and a new baby? But one look at my dad and I know he'll never be out of my life again, no matter if I try to push him away or not. (Believe me, I've tried it. Especially when Avi was in town and my dad was grilling him, having the "Don't Do It" s.e.x talk with both of us multiple times, and acting as an overprotective chaperone the entire time.) After taking me for a quick dinner, Avi parks the car in front of my aunt and uncle's house on the moshav. It's on top of a big mountain overlooking the Kineret lake. It's rustic and dusty and total farmland, but it feels like home.

Poor Avi had to listen to me cry and sniff and blow my nose every two seconds all the way from the hospital, although he didn't seem to mind. He held my hand the entire time (except when I was being gross and blowing my nose, and when we stopped for dinner). Seriously, just having him here with me gives me strength.

Avi lives a few houses down on the opposite side of the very narrow gravel road, but he doesn't just drop me off.

My cousin Osnat (p.r.o.nounced O'snot and yes, it's a very popular Israeli name) is the first person to see me. She's sitting on the sofa, watching television with my aunt ( Doda Yucky), my Uncle Chaim (I call him Uncle Chime, because I can't do that back-throat-noise Hebrew- p.r.o.nunciation thing), and my little toddler cousin Matan (who is not naked, for once).

They all wrap me and Avi in big hugs.

Even Osnat, and she's not the most warm and fuzzy person I've ever met-although we definitely get along way better now than we used to. I can tell she's been crying, too, because her eyes are all bloodshot.

"Amy, what happened to your chin? And your arms?" Doda Yucky looks at Avi accusingly.

He holds his hands up. "Don't look at me. She managed to do that all on her own."

"You beat yourself up?" Osnat says. "In the morning you'll have to tell us how you managed to do that."

I know she's just joking. Normally I'd have some witty comeback, but I'm too upset and exhausted to think of one.

"Are you hungry?" Doda Yucky asks.

"Let me fix you both something. You've had such a long day."

"I took her to Marinado by Kibbutz Ein Gev," Avi tells them. "I couldn't resist stopping there for one of their burgers."

I sit with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in their small living room as we catch up on the past year. Even though we talk every week, it's not the same as actually spending time with them. Uncle Chime laughs when I tell him about my experiences on the army base, and even tells me a funny story about digging ditches when he was in the army. I guess digging ditches is a rite of pa.s.sage for Israeli soldiers. Doda Yucky shares her own stories about being an instructor on one of the bases. Matan climbs on her lap and dangles off her knees while she's talking.

Doda Yucky has always been sweet to me.

She never stops smiling, and she loves everyone she comes in contact with.

Then the conversation turns to Safta's heal th. Doda Yucky tells me how she found her unconscious. The somber mood returns as they tell me to pray for the best.

A yawn escapes my mouth.

"You need sleep," Uncle Chime tells me. "You look exhausted."

"I am." Although I don't know if I can sleep. Too many thoughts are running through my head, but I'm so overtired, hopefully my eyes will close as soon as I hit my pillow.

After Avi helps bring my suitcases in from the car, Osnat drags her pillow and blanket out of her room. "Amy can sleep in my room. I'll sleep in Safta's room tonight," she says.

I peer inside Osnat's room. Just like I remembered, it has two twin beds situated across the room from each other. "I don't want to kick you out of your room. You've got two beds. We can share."

"It's not a problem. Really. I'd rather sleep in Safta's bed. I'd feel closer to her somehow. Besides, you snore."

I give a huff. "That's so not true."

"You're asleep, so how would you know? Seriously, last summer I needed earplugs when you slept in my room."

I look up at Avi. "I do not snore."

"I believe you," he says. "But right now I need to go across the street to let my parents know I'm here."

My heart starts racing in panic. I grab a fistful of his s.h.i.+rt and hold on tight. "But you're coming back tonight, right?"

"If you want me to."

"I don't want you to leave for a second."

"You need to get ready for bed, Amy. I can't exactly be with you then, unless you want your uncle and dad to threaten to give me a second circ.u.mcision." He kisses me lightly on the lips. "Take a hot shower and enjoy it. You haven't had one in a while.

I'll be back after I say hi to my parents and wash up. I promise."

Famous last words.

I stand in the foyer pouting like my dog Mutt when he watches me put my jacket on.

If I was a real dog, I would whimper just like Mutt, too. But I'm not a dog and I have to suck it up and stay positive.

I can do positive.