37
Palestine 1947
Avi tapped me on the shoulder early one morning.
“There’s a briefing,” he said. “David’s come especially. One hour. In the meeting room.”
“Sure.”
I’d just finished breakfast with Jake and Eli. I figured it was now time for them to leave. Jake’s ears perked up. He had a dog’s sense of hearing, could make out sounds beyond audio range. It made him the ideal lookout early in his bootlegging days. I tried to picture him with a little keg of rum around his neck but the image wouldn’t take. I guess I picked my own acute sense of hearing from him.
“What’s shaking?” Jake asked, after Avi had left the dining hall.
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t look or sound like nothing,” Jake replied.
“Nothing for you, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”
“Sheesh, you’re testy.” He turned to Eli. “Isn’t
