Safekeeping Read Online Free Page B

somewhere different every day, spread the burden. Your job will be to accompany her, to help her get around. And to do some of the work she isn’t.”
    Adam buried his hand in his pocket, clutched the brooch. Could this be the old woman he was looking for?
    Claudette shook her head. “I would be better in the laundry.”
    â€œBut we don’t need anyone in the laundry.” Eyal picked up the phone. “Trust me, this is better. You’ll experience the whole kibbutz working with Ziva—picking mandarins, working in the dining hall. But whatever we do, we can’t let on that it’s you looking after her .” He raised his finger to suggest everything would be clear in a moment.
    Adam released the brooch. He wasn’t looking for a Ziva.
    â€œHello, Ima,” Eyal said into the receiver. “We have a young Canadian woman for you to take charge of. She will follow you to your assignments, and you will make sure she understands the tasks and gets them done. Beseder ?”
    A squawk burst out of the handset, and Eyal jerked it away from his ear. He switched to Hebrew, but Adam understood by the jut of the secretary’s jaw that he was frustrated. He banged down the phone and lifted his hands in a what-can-you-do.
    â€œI should warn you, Claudette, Ziva can be very . . . what’s a nice word for it? Forthright? Even Israelis find her rude. Don’t take anything she says personally. Believe me, I should know. She’s my mother.” He turned to Adam. “And you we can put in the plastics factory or the dishwashing room. It’s your choice.”
    Neither sounded very Fields of Splendor, but Adam was relieved he could stay. “Dishwashing, thanks.”
    Eyal pulled Monopoly money out of a drawer, two wads of colored copy paper stamped with numbers. “You can use these at the general store, the kolbo , to buy toiletries or other things you might need. In addition, we’ll give you a small stipend, a hundred and twenty shekels a month. You can pick up your work clothes and boots at the laundry.” Eyal stood, and Adam and Claudette followed suit. “Enjoy your time here at Sadot Hadar.”
    Claudette departed without saying goodbye, while Adam hung back. He steadied himself on the back of his chair. “Hey, Eyal, one more thing. Can you tell me where I can find Dagmar?”
    â€œWho?” Eyal carried his JNF mug to the kitchenette and scooped in a heap of Nescafé.
    â€œI’m looking for an older woman named Dagmar. She lives on the kibbutz.”
    â€œNot this kibbutz.” Eyal poured steaming water from an electric kettle. “There’s no one named Dagmar here. Never has been.”
    Adam took a second to absorb the news that Dagmar might not live here anymore. Why hadn’t he prepared for that? He had assumed she’d either be here or dead. She wrote his grandfather that she would be on the kibbutz “for the rest of her life.”
    The secretary carried the brimming mug back to his desk and settled into his chair behind the mounds of papers. He gazed up at Adam, clearly itching for him to leave.
    Adam said, “Maybe she doesn’t live here right now, but I know she did in 1947.”
    â€œForty-seven?” Eyal shook his head. “Maybe in the DP section. Temporarily. But she couldn’t have been a kibbutznik.”
    â€œShe was a kibbutznik. I’m sure of it.”
    Eyal spread his fingers out on his desk. “Listen, Adam. I was born here in forty-eight and have lived here my whole life. My mother is a founding member of the kibbutz, the only founder still alive. I’m the longest-running secretary we’ve ever had, and I know the name of every single person who’s ever been a member. I’ve been through their papers so many times I could draw their family trees. There was never any Dagmar on this kibbutz.”
    Adam shrugged. “You’re wrong. My grandfather was here in