Reconcilible Differences
part 26
by Mrs. Eyre
“Man, you need a shave.”
”And it’s good to see you, too.”
replied Luka.
Damir scanned his brother’s face.
“Where’s Tata?”
”Gone into Vodice. He means to
cook for us tonight.”
”So the fatted calf is not yet
slaughtered?”
”Not yet. Besides, I don’t
think I qualify as a prodigal any more.”
”You don’t need to. Tata
would borrow a prodigal if it meant a party. He’ll probably
come back with one from town.”
“How long can you stay?”
”Until Monday. Unlike you and
Tata I can’t be spared for weeks on end.”
“I don’t understand how you’re
always so busy but the law still moves so slowly.”
”It’s one of the central
paradoxes of life. If you understood it you wouldn’t
need the lawyers”
“You want some coffee?”
”I’d rather have a beer. You
got any?”
”That’s a trick question, right?”
“What is it about this time, Luka?”
”What?”
”The visit. You never drop by for
the sake of it.” Damir’s eyes were on the
horizon. He was unable to keep the slight edge from his
voice.
“Drop by? From Chicago?”
“From anywhere.” Luka was
silent. ”So tell me. I mean last time you’d
lost it and killed some guy. Tata drops everything at
Christmas .’We have to be there for Luka.’ And
now I get another summons.”
”A summons.”
”Yes, a summons. What else would
you call it? I couldn’t say no.”
”You wanted to?”
”I – I’d like the choice,
Luka.”
“Take it up with Tata.” came the
irritable response.
“Why yes, that would work. Why
ever didn’t I think of that?”
”Oh, stop it Damir. If you don’t
want to be here don’t be here.”
It was always like this whenever they met.
Damir had tried hard all his life not to blame his brother for
his looks, his height, for his mother’s adoration. It
seemed that Luka had attracted disaster as irresistibly as he had
attracted affection and admiring glances. His loss of
Danijella and the children and then of his freedom had been a
kind of perverse crowning glory. He remembered thinking
that nothing now could touch Luka, that praise and blame would be
equally meaningless, that he would be freed from the constraints
and expectations of lesser mortals. Who could criticize a
man – so young a man at that - who had endured so much?
And in the end he’d been relieved when Luka had left them.
Their father had mourned as though his younger son were dead.
And, though Damir and Tatijana had given him three grandchildren
the absence of Jasna and Marko was almost palpable. His own
children would grow up, get into scrapes, cost money, cause
worry. Jasna and Marko were the perfect grandchildren who
would never grow up, never answer back, swear, smoke. Jasna
would never dye her hair green or wear her skirt too short or
fall for the wrong boy; Marko would never crash the car,
pierce his nose, get a girl into trouble. And Danijella
would be forever 24 years old, whilst Tatijana watched her own
face lose its bloom, her figure capitulate to the unkindnesses of
time and childbearing. Damir might go far in his
legal career, might always be there, but he knew that Tata’s
thoughts strayed often to his wounded cub, so far away,
unreachable.
And Luka? Taller than Damir, better
looking than Damir, with an unforced charm not vouchsafed to him;
Luka who lived in the land of dreams, his brother the doctor,
beside whom Damir had always found himself wanting. Luka
who was speaking to him.
“What?”
”The children. How are they?”
”Oh, growing. Anna – she
started her periods a couple of months ago.” He
blushed a little then. “She’s only 11, Luka, it
can’t be right.”
”Right?” Luka answered on a laugh.
“It’s too soon.”
”It’s not. You do know that
it’s a sign of good health, good nutrition.”
Damir shook his head, sadly. “It’s
too soon.”
”You sound like Grandma.”
“Well, maybe so. It’s how I
feel. Magdalena’s nearly as tall as Anna already.
She has Tata’s height like you.”
“And Josip?”
“Still looks like me, poor boy. He
has his mother’s temper though.”
“That’ll be interesting in a few
years. You know, don’t you, that when women live
together their courses fall into step.”
“So?”
”Think about it; three
pre-menstrual women and you in the same house. Josip will
be your only ally. You’re going to need him.”
”Well, thanks for this, Luka, I can’t
tell you how much better I feel for knowing that.”
Luka thrust long fingers into the sand,
raking it back and then flattening it, leaving a vague imprint of
his hand. The dry sand fell in on itself and the imprint
was gone. He glanced up at Damir whose eyes were still
trained on the horizon.
“I envy you.” Luka’s
voice was very quiet. “Sometimes,” he
continued, “I’d give anything to be cross with them,
worried for them.”
“I know.”
“Jasna would have been 16 this year.
Old enough to be married.”
”I know.”
“I’m – going to Vukovar.
Before I leave.” Damir looked at him then.
“Why?”
”Because.”
”Because? Because what?”
“I have to be sure that I can.”
”Can what?”
”Go there. Come away again.
Before, at the end, I was not really there at all., yet I
don’t think I ever left.”
“Why now?”
”It’s time, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s not all though.”
”No. If I can do this I can ---
” he struggled for the words.
“Move on? Don’t say move on.”
“No. If I can leave Vukovar I can
get myself back. And then I can give myself again.”
”This is about a woman then.”
“Not really. I mean, yes, it’s
what got me here, but even if that doesn’t happen --- the
thing
is I have to be free of it, Damir. I’m
not. It hurts too much to let them go. Or at
least I think so”
”I don’t know what you mean.”
“I don’t know how to explain it.
Perhaps I haven’t been honest.”
”With who?”
”Me. Perhaps I just tell myself
it hurts too much because I don’t want to find out that it
actually doesn’t. Because then it really is over.
And then I have to deal with my life again.”
“I understand.”
”Do you?” Luka looked at him
intently. “Really?”
“Yes. Will you go alone?”
”Yes.”
“When?”
“I think maybe right before I leave.”
“Is that a good idea?”
”You think not?”
”Well, you might need time - “
”But that’s the point; if I
need time to get over it --- I’m not over it.”
Damir smiled then. “You should
have been a lawyer. Or a theologian. You know, when we were
growing up I tried my hardest not to like you. It didn’t
work then and it doesn’t work now.”
”You’re still trying?”
”I’m your brother” Damir
shrugged, “it’s my job.” He allowed himself
to smile then. “Get me another beer, shrimp.”
Luka opened his eyes and winced at the
sunlight glaring from the whitewashed walls. As he moved
the arm thrown across him tightened and its owner murmured
something which made Luka raise his eyebrows. You don’t
mean that he thought. Out loud he said “Damir.
Damir, let me go.”
“Stay, sweetheart.”
”Damir, get off me. Whoever you think I
am, I’m not. And I need to pee.” Useless.
He prised the arm from around himself and all but fell out of
bed. He didn’t remember how much Loza they’d
drunk but the magnitude of his headache suggested that it had
been altogether too much. He made his way into the kitchen
in search of coffee. His father was sitting, feet on the
kitchen table, his back to the door and without turning round he
raised his hand.
“Looking for these?” Paracetamol.
“You think of everything, Tata.”
Someone has to. My son the doctor. Ha.
How’s your brother?”
”Amorous. Sleeping but amorous. I
made my excuses and left.”
”Very wise.”
”I thought so.” Luka managed
to open the door.
“Where are you going?”
”For a swim.”
”Well, be careful. I think maybe
you’re not sober.”
“I think maybe you’re right.
What’s the time?”
”5.30.”
”a.m.?”
“Yes, of course”
“Mother of God, I’ve had three
hours sleep.”
“You’re a doctor. You should
be used to it.”
”Lack of sleep maybe, but I’m out
of practice with the Loza.”
“I’m 64. Look at me.”
He extended his hand. Steady. Luka didn’t think
he could say as much.
It was very quiet beneath the waves. Quiet
and clear and soothing. He had loved to do this with his
friends as a boy. In and out of the water all day, bodies
toasted golden brown by the sun, skin smoothed by the sand.
Now he relished the silence, forcing himself to stay down until
he thought his lungs must burst, not wanting to break the spell.
But you can’t stay down here forever
Not and live. You’ve been down here too
long.
The rush of air and water as he broke the
surface was shocking. But once up the sun still shone, the
sand was still white and the sky was so blue he could have cried.
You’ve been down there too long.