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His nose healed but not perfectly, and the slight crook that twists it gives a touch of character to his movie star looks. Rainy doesn’t mean to idolize him, it’s not normally her way, but she can’t help it.
“I’ve just spent thirteen weeks being shouted at by people with stripes on their shoulders,” she says. “I’ve had to learn to—”
“Accept criticism?” Aryeh offers lightly.
“Who’s criticizing me?” Rainy snaps before realizing he’s playing with her. “You think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”
“A little bit,” he admits. “But not crazy enough to be a marine.”
Rainy laughs and affectionately messes his unmessably short hair. Then she’s serious. “I can’t sit this out, Ary. I have to be part of it.”
“They’re scared is all, Mom and Dad.”
“They want grandchildren.”
“I think they want a daughter,” he says softly. “You know you’re their favorite. You got the brains in the family, and that’s what they care about.” He doesn’t mean to sound resentful.
“And all you got is the looks? Poor baby.”
They sip their tea and look out across the city they both love.
“So how long does this intelligence school last?”
“Eight weeks,” she says.
“Spy stuff?”
“Cloak and dagger,” she jokes. “They picked me because I speak German.”
“You speak everything.”
“Not true. Just German. And some Italian. A little French. Yiddish, of course.”
“Are there other languages?” He likes playing dumb with his brilliant little sister.
“One or two. I don’t speak Japanese, though, so I guess we won’t be running into each other out there.” She waves a hand, meaning to encompass the world, not just New York.
“Nope. Looks like we marines’ll be killing Japs on our own, no army help needed.”
This is too much for her. Far away the Japanese are having similar conversations, full of bold talk about slaughtering American marines.
“Stop,” he says, seeing the worry in her eyes. “I’ll be fine. You know me. Aren’t I always fine?”
But tears are welling up now, and when she looks at him her eyes glisten. “If you get hurt, I’ll kill you.”
“I’m supposed to meet up with some buddies. We’re going to go down to the USO club, see if there are any girls who want to dance with big, bad, bold marines. Why don’t you come?”
“Right, that’s what you need before you ship out: your little sister tagging along.”
He doesn’t argue; he knows she’ll say no.
“I wish you hadn’t joined the marines,” she says after a long silence. “There are safer jobs in the army.”
“I don’t think anyone wanted me for intelligence work,” he says, making a joke of it.
“Do you know where they’re sending you?”
“To California by train, then a nice little boat trip to Hawaii where I will lie on the beach and soak up the sun.”
