“What did he say?” Shayndel asked Nina.
“I couldn’t hear, but I suspect he told the limeys to go screw themselves.”
“I thought I heard one of them say something about a death. We heard shots last night,” Shayndel said.
“It was just before you got here. One of their trucks pulled up in the dark and a gun went off, so our guys thought it was the beginning of a siege and fired. One of theirs died. None of ours, thank God.”
The British soldiers had started arranging themselves in a row, their rifles across their chests, facing the kibbutz. They were so close that Shayndel could see their expressions clearly. Some of them scowled, others winced, but a few looked through the fence, curious about the people inside.
Tedi started to wave. “Yoo-hoo!” she called and blew a kiss.
Shayndel pulled her arm down. “What are you doing?”
“No, that’s a good idea,” said Nina, who had joined them. “The English may be pigs, but they usually follow the rules of the game, and shooting women—especially pretty ones—is decidedly against the rules. Come on,” she said to Leonie. “You wave, too.”
A few more girls joined in and when they saw some of the soldiers blush and look away, they cheered and laughed, lightening the mood on both sides.
Tedi stopped waving and touched the barbwire in front of her. She turned to Leonie and said, “Do you remember that woman in Atlit who screamed and went mad when she saw the fence? This stuff is so frightening, but here it is here for our protection. To keep us safe, like thorns on a rose.”
“Thorns on a rose?” Leonie said. “I did not know you were a poet.”
“Not me, I’m the down-to-earth one. My sister is the one who …” Tedi stopped. It was the first time she had invoked Rachel’s memory out loud.
Leonie moved Tedi’s finger away from the spike, and said, “You certainly have the nose of a poet.”
“What do you mean by that?” Tedi bristled, but Leonie was giggling and pointing at her nose. “What does a joke smell like?” she asked.
Tedi couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not the joke so much as the joker, and then it depends whether it’s dirty.”
Leonie gasped. “Ooh, you’re so naughty.”
Tedi started laughing, too.
“Stop it,” Shayndel said, afraid that the soldiers would think they were being mocked. She pushed them away from the fence, but as soon as Tedi’s and Leonie’s eyes met, they started again, covering their mouths to keep from howling.
“Barking mad, aren’t they?” Nina smiled as they staggered away to collect themselves. She pointed at the soldiers who were grinning in their direction. “It’s infectious.”
Shayndel shrugged, too nervous to laugh.
“So what do you think of Beit Oren?” Nina asked.
“Beautiful,” Shayndel said, gazing over the road at the valley of evergreens and the pale blue sky. “I’ve never been so high in the mountains before.”
“We like to call it Little Switzerland,” said Nina. “However, I must warn you that yodeling is strictly forbidden.”
“I’ll remember that,” said Shayndel. She supposed there must be a reason for even a silly rule like that.
“Good heavens, I’m joking!” Nina poked her in the arm. “Your friends haven’t lost their sense of humor. You shouldn’t either.”
Shayndel blushed and stepped away to greet Zorah, Jacob, and Esther. Jacob held his mother’s hand, pulling her forward and taking in the scene around him, bright-eyed and smiling. When he caught sight of a group of boys, he let go and ran toward them.
“Jacob looks wonderful,” said Shayndel.
He ran back to them and demanded, “How do you say in Hebrew the place we were in? What do you call Atlit? What is it?”
Shayndel almost blurted the word for “prison,” but thought better of it. “Tell them it was a welcome center for new immigrants.”
“Okay,” he said in English, showing off his new favorite word.