Leonie said nothing but squeezed Shayndel’s hand, a signal for her to continue with the story she had recited every day, like morning prayers, since they’d gotten on the boat to Palestine.
“We will eat ice cream and go shopping. You will teach me how to dress and I will show you how to make the best stuffed cabbage in the world. It will be a good life for us. I’ll find us the two brothers. We’ll each have two children.”
“Like Noah’s ark,” said Leonie, on cue.
“Exactly.”
“Once upon a time.” Leonie sighed. Nearly everything about Palestine felt like make-believe to her. The bottomless baskets of soft bread and the bland white cheese seemed like food for angels or babies. Atlit itself felt like a fairy-tale dungeon, the prisoners waiting for someone to end the evil spell and release them to live in the happy land of the kibbutz.
Hebrew was the most fantastic thing of all to her: a dead language walking in the world, a holy tongue with slang for “bullet” and “penis” and the magical power to invent or change whatever it needed, abracadabra.
“We promised to talk only in Hebrew today,” said Shayndel. “Remember?”
“That’s easy for you. You’re the best one in class. I feel like an idiot when I don’t have the words.”
“You can fill in with French,” said Shayndel. “I’m not strict like Arik.”
“I don’t like his class,” Leonie said. “Nurit is much nicer.”
“Did you hear Lipstick Lillian last night?” Shayndel whispered, in Hebrew. “She was talking in her sleep again. I swear I heard her say mit schlag. I never heard anyone talk about food so much. Such a Viennese cliché.”
“‘Cliché’ is not Hebrew, is it?”
“Excuse me.” Shayndel grinned. “Lillian is already bursting out of her dress. Can’t you see her getting fat as a cow? Fat and stuck-up. Too bad.”
“What did you think?” said Leonie. “People will be people in Eretz Yisrael, too. Just because we’re in Palestine doesn’t mean it’s any different. There will be princes and criminals here, too.”
“Jewish criminals, eh?” said Shayndel. “I almost like the sound of that. It makes us seem normal. But our children will not be merely normal. They will be extraordinary—tall and handsome, like in all the Zionist posters. With big muscles and white teeth.”
Leonie winced.
“I’m sorry,” Shayndel said.
When they had arrived in Atlit, a dentist had determined that eight of Leonie’s back teeth were rotten and pulled them out. “No one notices,” Shayndel insisted, pulling Leonie’s hands away from her cheeks.
“Well, our four perfect children will have teeth like horses,” Leonie said, to let Shayndel know that she was forgiven. “We will feed them raw milk and honey.”
“And olives,” said Shayndel.
“I will never like olives,” said Leonie.
“You said that about the leben, too.”
“I suppose if one gets used to drinking sour milk, one can get used to anything.” Though Leonie did not know how she could bear another month of the heat, which she had heard someone say could last into October. There was only one tree big enough to give any shade in the whole camp, and the barrack often felt like an oven.
Just thinking about the word made Leonie feel sick. “Oven” used to conjure up images of cakes and roast chicken and warming bread. Now it meant only “gas chamber.” Except in Hebrew, where even “oven” managed to stay in the kitchen with the sink and the icebox. Their teacher said that soon they would all be dreaming in Hebrew, which made Leonie study even harder.
“Did you dream in Hebrew last night?” Shayndel asked, knowing how much Leonie liked that idea.
“No. For that I think you need to fall in love with a native speaker. When you’re in bed with a man
, when you’ve had a little wine, that’s the way to learn a language.”
“Oh-la-la,” Shayndel said. “Maybe you’re not such a prude after all. You’re getting a little … I don’t know the word in Hebrew—amorous? Randy?”
“Not at all,” said Leonie. “It’s just an expression.” She threw off the covers. “Let’s get out of here. I’m dying for a cup of coffee—even if it’s only tea.”
Leonie and Shayndel were early enough to get their favorite spot in the dining hall, at a table just to the right of the door, where they could watch people come and go. The other girls from their barrack joined them there and, as always, everyone ate a little too much bread a little too quickly. A steady parade of boys stopped to flirt with Leonie and to say a few comradely words to Shayndel. After breakfast was over and the men clattered outside for the morning lineup, the girls leaned on their elbows and talked about them.