Orit loved to walk in this park that looked like a forest.
Very few people around, the air is damp and thick, a gurgle of a frog, a rustling of a snake, everything just the way we like it, she used to say, grinning with the corner of her mouth.
The other half of her face was numb – brushed by shrapnel, a microscopic metal piece of crap definitely tore a couple of ligaments – and she could only smile with the left corner of her mouth ever since.
But at least you won’t get any wrinkles there, Danny was comforting her, you will pose for pictures with your right side and stay young until the age of 120.
He couldn’t quite see her himself, he could only distinguish her silhouette with one of his eyes. But he knew for sure that she was young and gorgeous.
She was young back then, in that October of ’73 when all of a sudden, without a warning, a hell that later became known as Yom Kippur War broke lose, and Danny had disappeared in this hell without a trace.
Orit remembered those days forever – and hardly remembered anything at all, just bits and pieces as if bits and pieces of old videotape put together haphazardly. Yom Kippur eve, desperation in Danny’s eyes, his duffle bag, the door that was left open because she couldn’t, she was unable to close it behind him – and to admit that he left to battlefield mere four days after their wedding. Dark confused faces, empty streets, fear, anger, tears.
And two weeks later she closed this door behind herself, just slammed it carelessly, leaving behind her entire pre-war life, easy and colorful.
She went to search for her husband – a stubborn little girl whose name meant “light” and whose eyes only saw joy.
A day before that she came to see Danny’s mother.
I heard nothing from my boy, she whispered bitterly, trying not to cry. Orit didn’t say anything, and what could she say, everything was pretty obvious anyway. My dad also left yesterday, she said. But he is in Air Defense, it’s quieter there.
Daniel was in an armoured brigade, one of those that got trampled on Golan Heights and that were fighting for their lives for more than two weeks now.
His tank burned, and the crew most probably died, all of them.
But nobody knew for sure, it was a real mess out there, sorry, I can’t help you more than this, a friend of a friend of her father told her over the phone.
Orit spent the night on a chair in her kitchen, and at dawn she packed her bag, took her papers and slammed the door behind her.
A little girl whose name means “light” and whose heart inhibited only love, went to war looking for her happiness that was taken away from her – and woe to anyone who might stand on her way on her scary quest.
She never told anybody what has she seen and learned during her search.
How she made her way to the frontline, desperately and stubbornly, and how generals retreated under her gaze.
How she finally reached the combat divisions and gazed through binoculars on the disfigured tank, whispering something with freezing lips – the commanding officer who looked at her with respect and apprehension thought she was praying, but she wasn’t whispering prayers. Daniel, she whispered, calling him with al her entity, sending a voiceless desperate scream to the skies, Daniel, Danny, Danny, Danny…
And she found him, of course. So great was the power of grief burning inside her tiny chest, that the universe shuddered and gasped and gave her back what she lost.
We don’t know who it was that we saved, the exhausted medic told her, it was three of them, and one was still breathing. Burnt all over, nothing left of his face, we sent him to hospital in Haifa.
She already knew it’s Danny she was going to find there, and how could it be any different?
And that was the moment when her cheek was pierced by shrapnel – like a payment of a great debt for the life returned. She understood that – and nodded, smiling with the left corner of her mouth: I accept, it’s a good price.
She was brought to that same hospital in Haifa – she only quarreled a little bit with the doctors – and the moment they were done stitching her wound, she rushed to a burn unit.
Daniel on the other hand LOVED telling the story of how she found him.
He loved miracles, and the fact that a miracle happened to him made him shiver and gasp with happiness till this very day.
They told me I was very unlikely to gain back any of my eyesight, he told anybody who was willing to hear. So I was lying there all covered in bandages like a mummy, in darkness and anguish. Hardly understanding who am I and what for.
And then through my closed eyelids I felt – the sun! I felt light and warmth, like after a rain when a ray of sun penetrates the clouds and touches your face.
I managed to open one eye and I saw light. And that light I saw was the glimmering face of my Orit. And she tells me harshly with that sweet gentle voice of hers: if you don’t wake up right now, I will pull your ear, Daniel Neumann! I wasn’t dying of sadness for such a long time only so that you could give up on me like this now, got it?!
And that’s when I realized it wasn’t a dream. And that from now on, everything is going to be all right.
Yes, Orit thought, skipping above a creek, that was a real miracle.
And the fact that we are now strolling in the park together, and somewhere among the Golan hills lies a rusty crooked burnt tank my husband didn’t die in, that’s a miracle.
And that he can see light, even if just with one eye, it’s a miracle.
And our kids – that’s for sure two miraculous miracles, especially little Liry.
You are smiling, Danny asked, why? What were you thinking about?
Out little Liora, she replied. She resembles me. Yes, he said, and found her hand and clasped it.
Her name also reminds of yours and also means “light”, he thought, holding tight her slim fingers.
You are my light and my life, he thought. But I will never see the faces of our children.
Don’t you cry, my heart, – she wiped a tear from his cheek, – everything is going to be fine.
With her other hand, she secretly wiped her own cheek. I know for sure, she said, I made a deal, the price was high, but affordable, so everything is going to be fine
Translated by Diana Shnaiderman-Pereira