A Life Worth Living Read Online Free PDF

piece of masking tape. 02-555-2138, Gaby read to herself.
    “Can I call home from this line?” Gaby asked.
    “This is your home,” her mother said.
    “You know what I mean. Can I call New York?”
    “I’m sorry, international phone service wasn’t installed. But you can buy a phone card from the makolet ,” Henny offered.
    “What about Internet? Is that set up?” Gaby asked.
    “Oh, I didn’t think you had a computer,” Henny said apologetically.
    “We don’t,” Mrs. Kupfer said. “It’s just an unnecessary expense.”
    “But feel free to come over anytime you want and use my computer,” Henny said quickly, seeing Gaby’s disappointed face.
    Gaby bit her lip, reluctant to say thank you for this additional kindness on top of all the others. How much charity could a person accept before they start feeling like someone’s ticket to heaven?
    “Okay, so what else?” Henny rummaged around her oversized purple leather handbag and came up with a stapled sheaf of papers. “Here is a list of all the families in Shiloh. There are some important emergency numbers on the back.”
    Gaby flipped through the pages. The names were listed in English and Hebrew. On the back was the number for Shiloh security and for the nearby IDF base.
    She outlined the emergency numbers with her finger. If something happened, how quickly could their protectors come to rescue them? She would have to go to the phone, find the number, call them, and then wait for the soldiers to burst through the door and save them from whatever hairy situation they found themselves in. There was no way help could come in time to make a difference. She thought of the gruesome pictures of the Fogel family from Itamar. Stabbed in their beds by two Palestinian teenagers.
    “Are we gonna have a gun?” she asked.
    “Do you know how to use one?” Henny chuckled, apparently amused at the idea of Gaby carrying a gun.
    “I could learn. If my mother lets me join the army.”
    “Gaby, I already told you! I sent in your p’tor to the rabbinate a long time ago. You were already excused from army service.”
    “But I really want to go. It would be so much fun.” Gaby sat down on a chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
    “We’ll find something else for you to do. Let’s talk about this later.” Her mother turned back to Henny, who was discussing where to buy groceries and which neighbors had volunteered to bring over dinner later that day and for the rest of the week.
    Ignored, Gaby got up from the chair and went to inspect the rest of the house. Three small rooms opened up off the hallway, each furnished with a large wooden armoire and twin-sized bed. Rafi was already unpacking his suitcases in the middle one, a small square room that boasted an admittedly gorgeous mountain landscape view.
    Gaby stood in the middle of the room next to Rafi’s. The white paint on the walls was dirty and peeling, and when she switched on the light, the naked bulb overhead flickered on, then immediately blew out. The room was small, with just enough space for the closet-like armoire and a bare bed with a thin mattress, sans headboard, the kind you’d expect to find in a low-budget sleepaway camp. Gaby did not enjoy the one summer she had spent at camp, courtesy of the generosity of parents from her sixth grade class. She had felt so alone, with her hand-me-down clothes and empty canteen account. She remembered meeting her mother in tears on visiting day, begging to go home. Her mother had insisted she finish off the remainder of the month.
    But despite the painful memories triggered by the thin mattress, the room had some potential. It had two windows, and a shaggy, leafy tree was visible right outside. Gaby had seen worse. With some paint and maybe a funky light fixture, this wouldn’t be such a bad room. She might even be able to fit in a desk if she could find one.
    She went to go find her mother, who was still talking with Henny.
    “Ma, do you think I