I knew Mama was right. A Seder without Papa? What would that even look like?

Dovid

The meeting on Monday turned out to be a total waste of time. Avi’s “weapon” was just some rope and a kitchen knife I could have taken out of my mother’s kitchen.

“That’s what you brought?” I asked Avi, incredulously. “A kitchen knife?”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Avi countered. “I told you — we need to stockpile anything we can get our hands on, and rope and a knife can be very useful.”

I held back a snort. Partnering with these guys had been Yitzchok’s idea, and until now, I had found them helpful. But really, thinking about it, they were just using my ideas and building on them — pretty unsuccessfully, I might add. We were no closer to sneaking into the British headquarters than we were three weeks ago. “Fine,” I said, reigning in the desire to leave them to themselves and come up with my own plan. “Where do we go from here?” Even if I came up with a plan, there was no way I could carry it out on my own.

“I’d say we just do it,” Yitzchok interrupted. “Tomorrow. We can break into their car garage. Split up like we planned and get moving. What are we waiting for?”

Avi shifted and Zev looked around uncomfortably. Were they scared? Because I couldn’t drive, and a big part of the plan was making off with two British cars for future operations.

“No,” I said, remembering Zalman’s promise to teach me safrus tomorrow. “Tomorrow won’t work.” Avi and Zev looked relieved, which was actually quite concerning, but I couldn’t think about that now.