The Lost Girl from Belzec: A WW2 Historical Novel, Based on a True Story of a Jewish Holocaust Survivor (World War II Brave Women Fiction Book 6) by Ravit Raufman

Author:Ravit Raufman [Raufman, Ravit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

27 Operation Grapes of Wrath was a sixteen-day campaign against Lebanon in 1996 during which Israel Defense Force (IDF) attempted to end rocket attacks on northern Israel by Hezbollah.

12.

“I’ve found a way how to be happy,” Adva said, breaking into an Amy Winehouse song: “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water…”

“That’s a cool way to go about it,” I said. “Too bad it didn’t really work for Amy Winehouse.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s not really working for me, either.”

“Sometimes nothing helps, huh?”

“Maybe I’ll stay and sleep over on your couch?”

“What’s so great about my couch?”

“Please don’t answer my questions with a question. Just tell me: can I or can’t I?”

“During our session, you can sleep on the couch. Afterward, you can’t.”

“Okay, obviously. Let’s not say anything new. Just don’t say that sometimes nothing helps, because there are things that can help.”

She crossed her long legs on the couch and straightened up. “But you have to want it, right? In order to help someone, you have to want it.”

She got up and left the clinic, leaving a small dip in the couch, while I sat and stared at the fabric that had emptied of her body, straightening itself in preparation for the next guest. Once again, the clinic was all mine. A small island within life that I reserved for myself. An island to which my patients came and stayed for fifty minutes, while between patients, I was there alone. In the quiet filling the space, I could hear my breath. I felt my pulse thudding between the walls, updating me on my condition. “How am I doing?” I could ask myself there. Between the clinic walls, my thoughts were free. The woman who sat in the armchair was me. Every day, I returned to the island from the exile in which I lived with Eli, from our well-organized house that Eli liked to tend to, where I was a guest. A very welcome guest. A guest scattering various objects around her, which cast their shadows over each other, hodge-podge, creating a shadow city dwelling at the bottom of the house, existing beside it, and from there, I returned to my clinic, day after day, to be myself within it.

***

For two weeks, I was laid out with dysentery and Aviram took care of me although the doctor said I constituted an epidemiological hazard. My body was wracked with spasms and twitches and I spewed fluids from every possible orifice until it felt like if there was some toxic nucleus inside me. Perhaps the dysentery would manage to locate it and destroy it, or else it might manage to destroy the dysentery first.

During that period, Aviram made his living by sleeping at the sleep lab, and during the day, he worked on his thesis on the effect of social construction on homosexuals and took care of me and of our two plants, which persisted in their wilting. He wasn’t afraid of catching what I had and said it was one of his problems in life: that nothing stuck to him.

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