After a month of hard work and long, deep meditations- Humik decided that he had been feeling bad with the agricultural effort. He was also fed up with the society there, that had been dull and boring for him. It seemed like he should find a way to rescue himself ‘from that hole’, as Jacque called it and wanted to leave, too… Yes, the Defence Ministry rep had promised Humik to bring a henscoop there, and the guys started to think also about a herd of twenty sheep. But all that was likely to be far from being realized; and… there was nothing interesting in these kinds of effort either. ‘I was said,’ thought Humik, ‘to go to the Fireteam course – almost a year from now. Maybe I can get it earlier. I have to write to the Command of the Youths Pioneering. They would decide what to do about me. I was one of three most excellent guys in the recruitment. The High Command would be able to verify that…O’key, I’m writing all that with my Parker pen, that Mom had sent me by mail, so that I would remember to write her from time to time. “I send you a Parker, as the other pens are awful,” so she ended her note, attached to it.’
Two weeks after having written to the Command, Humik received an official ‘Unit’s Transfer Order’!
It had a signed order for him to move to ‘Nathan Camp’ near Beer Sheba.(‘cursed Nathan’ – he smiled to himself). There he would begin the Fireteam Course for Parachuters, emerging from the Youth Pioneering Seeds. It would take about six months of training. Humik was enlisted there as ‘solitary private’, according to the Army Regulations: He was not a part of a certain Seed, that from it were many soldiers enlisted together to that course. He was satisfied that he had succeeded so easily to
change his military status, despite the terrible beaurocracy that he heard about.
He was allowed three days of vacation, before the course would begin. Moving with his kitbag, he took a bus to Tel Aviv. He wanted to see the town, where he would sleep in the ‘City Officer’s Hostel’, watch some movies in daytime, and visit friends from the textile store, in which he had worked a few months before. Of course, he wanted to meet Semadar. For that he went to Erga Lifshits’ office, to inquire where he could find her, as Semadar had not answered his call to Ruth Cafe. Erga’s office was closed. So he went to Dizengoff street, where Semadar was living. He knew that the street’s sidewalk is visited by most of the entertainers in the country. So maybe she would be near the crossroads Circle, a center for all meetings. In Café Roval- its chairs and small tables were intruding the sidewalk- Humik discerned a bearded man, whom he had seen before from far. He knew that the person was Nathan Freulich, and became sure about that, after having seen the younger guy seated opposite to him: He wore a capeshaded hat, like Nathan- and Humik identified him as Effy. ‘So, these are the two cousins,’ he told himself. The two guys were practically occupying three chairs, as Nathan Freulich’s legs were spread nonchalantly on an empty chair beside him. They were drinking something, and Humik knew that he would not like to have anything with them.
‘Hello Mister cholera plus Master pestillence’, he told himself. What happened with Naitty’s love affair with Raphaella? When Semadar told me about the American, whose name was Naitty- I had thought about my personal Naitty, though there maybe thousands of guys bearing such a name in U.S. or Israel… Now –as I see Effy, who I recognize well, I am sure that he’s sitting with Nathan Freulich. It seems that his business has failed or entangled. That is the reason that he’s fled to Israel. As for Effy – I had known, for long, his wish to be here. Well, I have to warn Semadar again. I can’t bear these both guys …
He went to Semadar’s rented room and found a note on the door. It was saying: “Naitty, I had to travel to Kibbutz Mishmarot.
we’ll have there a Show in the evening. Before that we have to have a rehearsal on stage in that place… ”
Humik went back along the street. ‘The Singingirls are succeeding, chapeu !” – he said to himself. He remembered that he had wanted to wish her good luck: Last satuday, still in Nehusha Seed, he was listening on the radio to the Singingirls new song, which also Jacque Malka enjoyed.
He saw the cousines again. They had finished drinking and rose up, but did not pay attention to him, a lonely soldier in vacation. ‘Yes,’ he repeated to himself, ‘these are Naitty and Effy, Don Quixote and Sancho Pansa.’