Species of Summer

4. teanah

4. teanah

I wake up on a bus. It's heading north and that's all I know. When I reach a better mental state, I realize that a girl is beside me. Upon further inspection, I deduce that it's Zohar. So I'm heading north, presumably in Israel, with Zohar. That's all I know. Oh, and my head is pounding. It's sunny out (which kind of kills my eyes), so I gotta assume that it's daytime, but that could range from seven in the morning to seven at night, and probably even beyond that.

The first words out of my mouth are, "What time is it?"

And Zohar goes, "Nine," which just makes me want to curl up into a ball and sleep for a century.

The next thing I ask is, "Where are we?"

To which Zohar replies, "The West Bank."

It takes me a few seconds to process that I actually know where that is (like, not on a map, but in theory), and when I do figure it out, I'm having a full-on freak attack. "The West Bank? Oh no. No no no no no no no no no no no. We're going to get shot! And we're on a bus—it's going to blow up! Why are we on a bus in the West Bank? How did I get here?"

"We're going to Jerusalem, and don't worry, we're going through a safe part that is basically all desert. We're safe. See those guys over there?" She jerks her head over to a cluster of uniformed dudes in olive with guns and combat boots. "If anything does happen, which it won't, I promise they are qualified to do something about it."

"Yeah, okay, but why am I on a bus? I have no memory of getting on it."

"Do you remember what you did two nights ago?"

I smirk and say, "Mesibat yaar."

"Yes, and you got home close to four, drunk out of your mind along with Amir and Shaked. Inbar drove you back. You slept for the day and the night and then I woke you up this morning. It's Sunday. While the three of you were out, my parents told me that I should take you to Jerusalem today. Which is why we're here, headed there now. You've been sleeping for over an hour."

Internalizing all of this newfound knowledge, I nod my head and say, "Why Jerusalem?"

"Because you need to see it."

"What's there to see?"

"Besides the Kotel and Yad Vashem and the Israel Museum and Har Herzl and Machaneh Yehuda and Ben Yehuda Street and history? Oh, nothing at all." I'm pretty sure that she's being sarcastic, but I don't know enough about the city to know to what her sarcasm is referring.

"Oh," I say. "So, uh, how much longer?"

"An hour, maybe." I don't say anything to that, because I'm not really sure what to say. I just stare out the window at a barren wilderness, mixed with desert-like conditions. There seems to be a thin wire or something running all along the way. When I ask Zohar about it, she tells me that it's the security barrier. I don't know anything about the Israel-Palestinian conflict, but I do know that when I hear the phrase "security barrier," I think of a wall or a mote. But this isn't either. It's just an electronic fence in the form of a single wire, biding its time in the West Bank.

We sit in silence for a while, Hebrew conversation from other passengers taking up auditory room. Then Zohar opens her mouth and hesitates but wonders, "How was the party?"

My head still isn't doing so well, so it's pretty hard thinking up an answer to that. But I still manage to come up with a half-assed, "Fine."

"Did you meet anyone interesting?"

"Everyone here is interesting," I yawn, not being fresh, but genuinely meaning it. "But, uh, yeah, I met some people, I think."

"Do you remember who?"