"They have all run away," said Hassan tearfully. "They all fled and the Yahud9 are laughing about them. Only you remained."
"Inshallah - it is God’s will," murmured the old man. Did he understand the boy at all?
"I have brought you something to eat. Good food," said Hassan. "I took it from the Yahud. I’ll bring you some more tomorrow. Every day I will bring something." Rafi jumped. Someone was touching him. It was Moshe. He was also listening through the window.
Slowly they walked back to the jeep.
In the vehicle Moshe burst out laughing. "You are sentimental and crazy. You have almost infected me." But his laugh sounded some-how artificial... "Doesn’t matter," he said after a while. "Main thing is, he’ll come back."
Apart from the military operations and occasional serious discussions, we led our "normal" life in Jassir. We had disputes and friendships, we had a "home" to live in, and there were a few girls therefor us to compete over. And above everything hung the great motto, the existential wisdom of a forward base "Eat and drink - you might be dead
tomorrow. "