A Night in the Wadi

I don't recall exactly when I started taking Netanel with me out into the bush. We tried to figure it out last night, and he says we've been doing this for as long as he can remember himself. Sometimes Odelia joins us, and Maayan or a cousin has come along, but Netanel and I are the charter members, president, secretary, and sergeant at arms.

It's not a venture not for the faint of heart. Wolves, jackals, wild boar and beduins roam the hill country; over the years we have encountered them all. Far from civilization it's wise to be armed; caution is essential. Food never enters our tent. Nothing rustles in the darkness unattended. Uninvited guests to our fire (like the viper that came calling last time) are dispatched. Meetings in abandoned places are wary. Boundaries are respected.

Our favorite spot is in a wadi bed, with a window to the west over the Sea of Galilee and if you look carefully you can see Mount Tabor. We set up camp and make a fire at sundown when the smoke won't give us away and in a knoll where it won't be seen in the dark. The smell is enough to ward off intruders on four.

Making dinner isn't hurried and talk wanders between those subjects that concern all men; guns and girls. What's the difference between snipers and marksmen? Alot, actually. I mean, the methods are similar, but weapons, tactics and mission are two different things. I wish I was in the army already. No, you don't. I bet you're glad I won't be a real teacher next year. Were you a real one this year? Sorta. When I think about it, the only girls I'm interested in are the ones that notice me. Yeah, that's how it was with me too. It's guy ego. But they want it to be the guy's idea. Girl ego.

When he was young I would sleep with one eye open 'cause I was afraid he would step out of the tent and down a cliff or on a snake, but I he's on the ball enough now for me to let my guard down. I'm always up at the crack of dawn and rustle up some food and Netanel sleeps until the sun hits the nylon tent and wakes sweating in hothouse heat.

Hypothetically, after breaking camp it's a good time for target practice. Hypothetically, because everyone knows that if firing your gun is prohibited if unsupervised by arms instructors at 200 shekel a pop, then letting a boy use a gun is doubly taboo. So hitting a bamboo reed at ten paces is a pretty good shot, hypothetically speaking.

Netanel is at home in the wild. He isn't afraid of the dark. Our roles are changing and one day soon Netanel won't need me in the wadi. But I hope we keep on going there anyway.