Second Excerpt: THE GILBOA IRIS

“What’s going on with the two of you?” Alana cackled lightheartedly.

Too angry to deal with the subject, my response was curt. “Nothing.”

She turned her head to Roni’s jeep and then back to me. “Well, Mr. Greek god can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. And frankly, sweetie,” she jabbed me in the side good-naturedly, “if you couldn’t feel the electric bolts flying between the two of you today, then you sure need a bit of rewiring – not to mention the fact that you two looked kind of cozy in the front of the jeep just a moment ago.”

I cringed at that, still feeling mortified by Roni. “All I ever noticed about Roni is his offensive attitude,” I replied, perhaps with a bit too much annoyance as my answer caused her to laugh with gusto.

“Sure, Dara, sure – whatever you say. Like that’s all any of us notice about Roni.” Against my will, I broke out in a wide smile and playfully jabbed Alana back. My curiosity, however, got the best of me and I turned around to see that Roni was watching me just as Alana said. Only, now, I saw that the scowl was back on his face. This was maddening. He then put his jeep in reverse, maneuvered a sharp turn and sped away.

Equipped with ladders, work gloves and large burlap sacks that we slung over our shoulders, we climbed up and began picking the fruit. Once our sacks were full, we descended the ladders and emptied the contents with caution into one of the massive bins positioned every ten or so yards along each chain of trees. We moved up and down the rows, sometimes trading stories with one another as we worked, but mostly listening to Yaniv’s melodic singing as he plodded along in his cheerful manner, picking grapefruit with his rifle slung over his back. Every now and again, we heard Jenny grumble about the thorns, at times using expletives for emphasis, and Alana’s laughter in response. It was backbreaking work – the sacks were heavy and bulky from the grapefruit – but I found it gratifying and enjoyed it.

After close to two hours, I noticed Alana had dozed off beneath the next tree that I had planned to work on. She looked serene as she lay there on the ground, secreted by the low branches. I chuckled to myself. She was a sweet girl and I was glad to know her. Jenny, Rachel and Miri, too. But, Alana, so very good-natured, was always spreading the cheer and laughing about one thing or another, and it was fun and uplifting to be around her. Pixie-like and petite, she reminded me of Tinkerbell in the Peter Pan story. It was as if she sprinkled magic pixie dust of good spirits and jollity wherever she went.

I moved my ladder to the next tree so as not to disturb her nap. Poor kid, she must be exhausted. I climbed my ladder to begin at the top and work my way down. It was nearly one thirty in the afternoon and the workday was due to end in half an hour. I emptied another load of grapefruit into the bin, and it was then that I heard what at first sounded like firecrackers. Deep in my gut, though, I knew better. I never heard gunshots before, except on television and in the movies, but when the next round came, not two seconds later, it was clear – and a myriad of things transpired all at once.

“Everyone down!” Yaniv shouted from a few trees away. Hurling his semi-automatic machine gun into position, he crouched to the ground. Bullets were flying all around us, splintering the trees and ricocheting off the metal slats of the ladders. We all flew to the ground, scurrying for cover behind the trees. “Gunfire! Northeast end of the orchard, fifty meters in…” Yaniv communicated on his walkie-talkie with the local head of security. Swearing under his breath, he mumbled, “Roni was right.” He laid low, staring through the sight of his M16, and fired in the direction of the bullets. At that moment, shocked out of her sleep, Alana ran out from under her tree in a panic.

I heard a frantic, high-pitched screech that pierced the air, “Nooo!” It took me a moment to realize it came from me. “Alana, get down, get down!” random cries barked from the trees. She reeled around in confusion and then jerked back and hit the ground face up, her arms spread-eagle. Blood oozed from her lower abdomen, spilling down her side onto the earth, and all the while the bullets continued to hit the ground where she had fallen. Alana arched her head back in pain, her eyes bulging, and dug her nails into the dirt. She opened her mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out. Adrenalin took the place of logic and I propelled myself over to her, crawling low, my face scratching against the earth.

“No, Dara!” shouted Yaniv. “We get rid of the threat first!” But it was too late, and I couldn’t retreat to a safer position without Alana. I wouldn’t. “Don’t do it! Get back!” Yaniv implored me.

“They’re going to kill her!” I screamed back.

“Dammit, girl!” Yaniv continued shooting and there was suddenly an ebb in the crossfire. “One down,” he muttered.

I reached Alana, grabbed her under the arms and began dragging her away from the open area. The shooting started again when I was one yard away from the tree. Just then, I felt it. A burning rip right through my leg. A howling, guttural sound of pain came out of me. I clenched my teeth, my chest rumbled with anger. With one final lunge and a gut-splitting scream, I pulled Alana under the tree.

She was unconscious, but still breathing. I didn’t know what to do for her. I didn’t know how to stop her bleeding. I tried putting pressure on her wound with my hands but it didn’t help. I pulled off my T-shirt and used that to apply pressure, but that wasn’t helping either. There was so much blood. I was scared – so scared I wanted to throw up. The burning pain in my leg was shooting in all directions, and I was drenched in Alana’s blood as well as my own. Oh, God, please help us.

“Yaniv! On your left!” It was Roni. The next moment, I heard it – the Arab war cry, Alahu akhbar! Alahu akhbar! Through the gaps between the branches, I saw a lone man, eyes ablaze, his neck wrapped in a kaffiyeh, pounce into the clearing, firing indiscriminately. From Roni’s position, a burst of fire, and then there was silence. The entire attack couldn’t have lasted more than several minutes, though it felt like an eternity. Roni commanded us to stay where we were. No problem there.

We all waited in an eerie stillness. Yaniv and Roni surveyed the area for other terrorists. I heard more communication over the walkie-talkies. They found Yossi’s body, the guard Roni referred to as the old timer, though he was just fifty-three years old. The terrorists had stabbed him to death. Seconds later, the army arrived along with ambulances. The paramedics placed Alana and me on gurneys and removed us from under the tree. They first bandaged Alana, hooked her up with an IV and sped away with her in one of the ambulances. Out of the volley of voices, I heard someone say they were airlifting her to Haifa’s Rambam Medical Center. One by one, everyone emerged from the trees. Jenny became hysterical when she saw me covered head to toe in blood, and Ben and Joey both tried to calm her down.

Unable to move, I remained on the ground, staring wide-eyed at the sky in a state of numbness, too shaken to utter a sound, save for gasping every now and again from the pain. Another paramedic tended to my leg wound and attached an IV to my arm. Roni knelt by my side, staring at me in silence.

Things started to look fuzzy, and I couldn’t discern his expression. I expected him to be angry with me, but instead he seemed…anguished. He cupped my hand in both of his and spoke in a soft voice – almost a whisper, “You’re crazy, you know that?” A rush of dizziness filled my head, and blackness took over.