“Shhh. Don’t talk now. If you’re still, you’ll get a kiss.”

They curled up in their blankets and slept until an hour or two before dawn, when she woke him and whispered, laughing, “Come on, Man, let’s see what you’re really made of.” And when he took her this time it was not in an iron drive like a plow breaking earth but with a wistful yearning, like a small craft upon a smooth sea.

It was still dark outside the window when Michal rose from the cot, put on her uniform, and bade farewell. “Goodbye, Udi Yoni, I have to catch a jeep to Shivta but if you’re still around when I get back tonight, maybe we can have a little talk.” Yonatan groaned, or grunted, in his sleep and did not awaken until roused by the first fingers of daylight and the unhappy howl of a stray dog. He dressed, contentedly fingering his growing stubble of beard, fixed himself some coffee in a tin cup, haphazardly made the bed, and took from the shelf above it an army booklet entitled Sites in the Arava and the Desert. From the other bed he filched without a qualm a gray army blanket, flung open the door, and, standing in the doorway, had himself a long pee with his head cocked to one side and his lips parted like those of a dreamer in an untroubled sleep.