How to Ruin Series Part 7

Safta pats my hand. "No, motek. He bought me the whole flower shop. And the poor man was allergic to pollen."

"Wow." I'd be sold if a guy bought me my own Abercrombie and Fitch store.

Now, that would be true love.

Safta starts to get up, and I grab her elbow to help her. Even though she told me she's fine, I have a feeling I'm not getting the whole story.

"I'm going to lie down," she says once she stands. "Go explore the moshav, your father should be back with dinner soon." I watch as she walks back down the dirt path toward the house.

Taking a deep breath, I head toward the entrance to the moshav. The winding road will be a great place for me to take a jog.

As I reach the security booth, a guy sticks his head out of the window.

"I'm going for a run," I say.

He nods his head and opens the gate.

When I start to jog, the fresh air in my lungs energizes me. The mountainous view is like out of a movie, and the music in my ears reminds me of home. I'm in heaven as my stride matches the rhythm of the song I'm listening to.

If only Mitch could see me now, jogging down a mountain. He's a nature nut. My best friend Jessica is, too. She'd probably be jealous of me.

While I'm thinking of Mitch and Jess, I whiz past some white boxes. Only after I pa.s.s them do I realize what they are.

Beehives.

What the h.e.l.l are beehives doing on the side of the road?

I think I'm safe, until I see one of the stinging suckers has followed me. "Go away," I say, running faster. The bee flies faster, and he's doing circles around me.

I stop and stand as still as those guards in London who stand at the palace, hoping that will make him go away. But it doesn't, it only attracts another bee. And another.

And another.

It feels like time has stopped, except my iPod is still playing music in my ear.

"Help!" I scream, and take off again. I'm waving my arms around like a madwoman, trying to get the bees off of me. Gross, I think one just got caught in my hair!

I'm running.

And waving my arms.

And shaking my head.

When I spot a car coming up the road, I'm hopeful it's Ron. But I'm shaking my head around so hard that I don't see who it is. The car pa.s.ses me, but then I hear tires screech.

I run toward the car, until I realize who's getting out of the driver's side.

Avi.

The last possible person in the world I want to see.

"Get in," he says, opening up the pa.s.senger side.

I have two options: get in the car with a jerk who saw me buck naked or get stung by seven bees.

Call me crazy, call me stupid. But I choose option number two. "Go to h.e.l.l," I say, and keep running down the mountain.

About three-quarters of the way down, the bees finally leave me alone. By some miracle, I've managed to avoid getting stung.

But now I'm stuck at the bottom of the mountain. And I don't want to go back up and pa.s.s the beehives again.

I have a brilliant idea. I'll wait for the Sperm Donor. Safta said he'll be coming back soon.

So I wait. And wait.

Forty-five minutes later, I'm still waiting.

I swear, this vacation is a total disaster.

If I were home, I'd be playing tennis and hanging out with friends.

An hour goes by before I spot a car coming up the road. I recognize Doo-Doo.

I wave my arms in the air like an air traffic control guy to make him stop. There's a girl in the car with him. The girl sticks her head out the window. "Do you need a ride?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Get inside."

Doo-Doo introduces me to the girl as I hop in the back seat. Her name is Ofra, and she also lives on the moshav. I lean back and enjoy the air conditioning blasting in the car.

"O'dead says you're going to come to the beach with us tonight." Ofra turns around and faces me from the front seat.

"It's a special occasion."

"Your birthday?" I guess.

"No. Moron is going to the army."

That's something to celebrate?

Ofra looks excited when she says, "You have to bring something of yours to give him, then offer a piece of advice. It's the moshav ritual."

Ritual?

I think I'm allergic to rituals.

9.

Before you speak up, make sure you know what you're saying.

The beach we go to is sandy, and borders a huge lake they tell me is called the Kineret.

It's all seven of us tonight: me, Ofra, Snotty, Avi, Moron, Doo-Doo, and O'dead. The guys have made a huge bonfire, and we're sitting around it.

Avi leads Moron to a chair he's placed in the sand. Then he pulls out a shirt from a bag with Hebrew letters ironed on it.

When he holds it up, everyone laughs.

Except me, of course, because I have no clue what's written on the shirt.

"What does it say?" I ask Ofra.

"Where's the bathroom?" she says.

"I don't know," I say. "I guess you're going to have to wait or pee in the sand."

They all laugh harder. And I realize they're laughing at me. "What?" I say.

Ofra pats my back. "I wasn't asking you where the bathroom is, I was telling you that's what the shirt says."

Oh, man.

"Avi, speak in English so Amy can understand," Ofra says.

He stands there, totally intimidating.

"Beseder," he says begrudgingly. "My friend Moron here has gotten us lost on many occasions. His sense of direction is legendary, to say the least. So with this shirt, he might not be able to find his way home, but he'll be able to find his way to the nearest sheruteem." Then he looks at me and says, "That means bathroom."

Everyone else chuckles and claps.

"And my piece of advice is . . . don't flirt with any of the female instructors.

They all have access to weapons bigger than yours."

This amuses everyone. I a.s.sume Moron has a reputation for flirting with girls.

After Avi sits down, Ofra and Snotty go up to Moron and give him a wrapped present. He opens it and holds a pair of boxer shorts up to us.

The front is just plain white, but ironed to the back is a map of Israel. "This way,"

Snotty says, "when you get lost you can always find your way back home."

"Yeah, but he's got to get naked to see the map," Doo-Doo says, laughing.

I laugh, too. Imagining Moron stuck in the middle of the desert, lost, wearing a shirt that says Where's the bathroom while he's naked from the waist down as he examines the map on his boxers, is pretty hysterical.

Ofra sits on one of Moron's legs, and Snotty sits on the other. "Our piece of advice is . . . let us shave your head instead of the army hairdresser."

I watch as Ofra pulls a cordless razor out of a bag. Moron gives a nervous smile to the rest of us. To be honest, he has a great head of hair. It's sandy brown, almost reaches his shoulders, and is really thick. Is he gonna let them shave it off?

Ofra turns on the razor, then she and Snotty stand up and go behind him.

"Take your shirt off,"

Doo-Doo suggests.

Moron pulls his shirt over his head, then raises his eyebrows. "Be gentle with me, girls," he teases.

"Keep your pants on," Ofra jokes and everyone, including me, laughs.

Snotty makes the first stripe down the middle of Moron's head as he squints his eyes shut.

O'dead takes a picture just as Snotty finishes one line. Then Ofra takes the razor and makes another stripe. They're all having a good time. Even, dare I admit it, me.

"Give Amy a turn," Doo-Doo suggests, then gives me a little push of encouragement.

I shake my head. "I'm not great with a razor," I say. Especially electric ones next to people's scalps.

Ofra and Snotty finish shaving Moron's head. They're having fun making designs with his hair as they do the job.

After they're done, O'dead stands next to Moron. "We've been friends since we were three, and I know how scared you are of the dark." O'dead pulls out a small flashlight. "So now, when they stick you in the Negev desert, you won't have anything to fear."

"Except the deadly snakes," Doo-Doo chimes in, making everyone laugh again.

"As long as I have females in my unit,"

Moron says, "I won't need any light, if you know what I mean."

"Which brings me to my gift," Doo-Doo says, then pulls out a small, pink, stuffed teddy bear. "This is for you to sleep with when you're alone at night and need something to hug."

"Our piece of advice is . . . when you sleep with your gun, make sure the safety is on."

Moron nods his head. "Great advice, guys."

"Now it's Amy's turn," Ofra says.

I look over at Snotty. The girl won't even acknowledge me. Then I turn to Ofra.

"Go ahead," she says, urging me with her hand to get up.

Tentatively, I walk over to Moron and hold out a piece of material. "It's a bandana," I explain. "With a peace sign on it."