Reconcilible Differences
part 29
by Mrs. Eyre
It had taken him time to find the place and
now he frowned a little, puzzled.
Danijela,
aged 25 years
Also
Jasna,
Aged 5 years and Marko, aged 2 years
Beloved
wife and children of Luka Kovac.
November
1991
Who had done this? Tata. He didn’t
know how he knew. The brilliant midday sunshine threw
harsh shadows across the cemetery and it seemed even more bleak
than it had in the snow, birdsong curiously out of place. He
wanted to tell the birds to stop.
He glanced around. So many graves,
most of them untended. But not theirs. Someone had
kept the grass and weeds away. Who had his father paid to
do this? Not that it mattered. He’d seen other
graveyards since, Muslim graveyards in Bosnia, poorly enclosed,
poorly maintained, an irritating necessity. So many dead.
Luka noted that there was an empty vase on
the grave. He hadn’t brought flowers, hadn’t seen
the point, but now he wished he had. He stooped to pick up
the vase and made his way to the flower stall by the gates.
The flower seller filled the vase with water, all the time
conducting a rather one sided conversation with a
companion at the back of the stall, while Luka picked out the
flowers. There were no carnations which had been her
favourite, loving their sweet spicy smell, like cloves and sugar
mixed together. No matter. She wouldn’t be
seeing or smelling these.
“It’s not much,” he said
aloud, having arranged the flowers carefully on the grave, “not
enough, I know. But what can I do? I should have come
before, but I couldn’t … be here. You understand,
don’t you? And why I’m here now?”
Luka closed his eyes and forced his mind
downwards through the earth to what lay beneath. The death
and dissolution of the human body held no mystery for him. Her
body would be gone now, the body he had possessed, the body his
hands had read like Braille. Her hands, busy in the
kitchen, at her sewing, plaiting Jasna’s hair, on his body,
still now.
Gone too the two little bodies whose sweet,
boneless softness he had held as they slept, felt squirming as he
tickled them, felt moving in that other body. The tiny
pearl like teeth which had grinned as he played with them, smiled
like sunshine when he returned home from work, were grinning now
at nothing.
Nothing. There was nothing there.
And he was glad of it. You can go now, Luka, you can go. And
he thought he would cry with the sudden beauty of the birdsong
and wished that they would never stop.
As he went through the gates he called to
the man with whom the flower seller had been speaking earlier.
“Come on, Damir, let’s go and get
a beer and something to eat”
If it got any hotter Abby felt sure that all
her major internal organs would cook. In the three weeks
since Luka’s departure the thermometer had crept steadily
upwards. The ER had been for a time an air conditioned
sanctuary, but the endless stream of heat exhaustion victims
– the very young and the very old for the most part –
and the near and actual drownings of people who had taken to the
waters of the lake and overestimated their skills, had begun to
tell on the nerves of everyone there. Crankiness had
combined with a dread of the furnace like heat into which they
knew they would have to walk at the end of their shifts to
produce a uniquely sour atmosphere.
Now she dreaded her days off. Her
apartment had no A-C and the constant hum of the three fans she
kept running at all times did nothing to sweeten her temper,
especially as all they did was circulate hot air. Even
now, at seven in the morning the heat was unbearable.
She’d been awake since six and now
sat in the seat by the fire, a wet face cloth across her brow,
inert, unable to move. But her mind was moving, had been
moving all the time he’d been away. She’d seen
him on his way at the airport, chattering too much while he
remained largely silent. But it had not been the silence of
a man afraid to speak, as she was afraid of the silences, she
realised and she settled into quietude as they waited for his
call.
“What about the fish?”
“My neighbour’s taking care of
that.”
“I’d have done it.” She
took in his rather dubious expression. “Maybe not.
But, look, you’ll send me a post card this time?”
”If you like.”
”I like.” He was looking at her levelly and
seemed about to say something when his flight was called.
“There goes you, then.” For
a moment they stood, wavering and then he took a step forward and
caught her in a hug. On an impulse she wound her arms
around his waist and clung on, fighting tears. Kiss me.
“I’ll miss you.” She said,
her voice very small, muffled against him. Please kiss me
Take care of yourself” he said,
releasing her. Then he turned and was gone. She
wanted to call him, make him turn around, promise he’d come
back. She didn’t.
She’d said she’d miss him but hadn’t
been prepared for how much. She realised she’d got
into the habit of looking forward to seeing him at the hospital;
if they didn’t get out together at least once a week, to
eat, to the theatre or the movies, she felt uneasy. Was this some
sort of inverted flirtation – with no hints of more to come?
She simply didn’t know what was going on any more and had
resolved on more than one occasion to simply ask him. But
her nerve had failed her as soon as she set eyes on him and she
took refuge in the 12 month rule; except she knew that was
bullshit. She was already in a relationship with him;
didn’t feel they’d ever really broken up, just stopped
sleeping together.
For a moment, at the wedding celebration,
she thought she had seen clearly what his feelings were, but she’d
been seized by a crisis of confidence almost immediately. Carter’s
knowing glances had made her want to slap him and more than once
she’d bitten back harsh words about his role in her split
from Luka. It wasn’t fair, she knew, she’d done
that all by herself and now, without Luka there to give her hope
she began to wonder whether the fracture were not irreparable.
So, she went to her meetings, all the while
telling herself that this was about her, not Luka, not Carter,
not Maggie, but her, and that whatever happened she was gaining
in strength and wisdom and learning to know herself. She
went to her therapist, called her sponsor, called on all the
resources available to her. Three weeks along the line Luka’s
absence no longer occupied her every waking moment. But
there were the sleeping moments to consider. And that
was another matter altogether. It was nearly a year since
she’d had sex and being around him had been like having a
banquet laid out before a starving man and then telling him he
couldn’t touch it. Her dreams were becoming worrisome
on that score and she blushed sometimes remembering them.
Now, as she sat unmoving, eyes closed, she
tried to call up his image, and felt tears threaten when she
could not.
“How do you feel?” Damir was
almost afraid to ask.
“Sad.” Damir nodded. “But
– “
”But?”
”Free. I thought I’d feel worse about …
about the children. But I’ve realised that I’ve
been thinking about them all wrong.”
”How so?”
”I’ve thought, you know, this year Jasna would be 10,
12, 15, this year Marko would get his first bicycle. I’ve
looked at them growing up, becoming adults. But it’s
not the job of children to grow up. It’s their job to
be children. They were happy children. I should be
glad of that.”
“And can you?”
”I can try. They were what they were. They weren’t
there to make me happy. That’s my job.”
”You used to be good at it. You could be again.”
”Perhaps.”
“They were happy in you too, Luka.
Danijela, the children. You did it once, you can do it
again.”
“I’m not the same person.”
”Sure you are. I think maybe you just … lost
sight of yourself for a while, lost who you are. But you’re
still there. I can see it.”
”You can?”
”Yes. And so can Tata, and Tatijana.”
”You’re a lucky man to have her, Damir.”
”I know. She told me … she told me which train
you were taking this morning. Oh, very casually, you know,
but her expectations were pretty clear. I think if I hadn’t
come here today she’d have found a way to come herself.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
”No, you don’t.”
“In Chicago I have a nice apartment, a
nice car, a job that pays well. I would have traded it all
for what you have.”
”Would have?”
”It’s yours because of you. I have to find
something for myself now.”
”Something or someone?”
”I don’t know … “
Damir was shaken by a rare gust of temper.
“Oh, Luka, fuck it, don’t do this.
This woman, she’s what you want, you know that much.”
“And I had her once.”
”So?”
”So that’s why it’s not so simple. It’s
not so easy to forget.”
”Not to forget, no. But to forgive. You just
said it yourself, Luka, you’re a free man, not the man who
was with her before. If you can move on from here –
“ and he gestured with a wide sweep of his arm, “- you
can move on from whatever happened with her before.”
“But can she?”
”Well, I don’t know, do I? You’d have to ask
her that. But the thing is it’s your call. And
if you won’t even ask … well, I wash my hands of you.”
”I hope they never make you a judge.”
Damir laughed then, mollified. “Look,
all I’m saying is that you have to learn to see yourself
again, stop being the man who lost his family, see who you
really are now for good or evil. And you have to look at
this woman –“
”Abby.”
”- yes, Abby, look at her, really look, and decide whether
she’s worth the effort it’s going to take. And
then act on it. Stop waiting for things to happen. Make
them happen.”
”Why do you think I’m here?” Luka was
feeling a little browbeaten now.
“For yourself. And that’s as
it should be. You think you have your freedom, but it’s
no good unless you do something with it.” He
shrugged. “Eh, perhaps I’m just talking rubbish here.”
”No,” said Luka, carefully, “You’re talking
perfect sense.” He laughed. “You always do.
What would I do without you?”
”You’ve managed so far.” The edge in his
voice didn’t escape Luka.
“No, no I haven’t. You made
me what I am, you, Mama, Tata. And really, you were always
with me, you know?”
”No. I didn’t know.”
”Neither did I, ‘til now. I’ve let go of
Danijela, Jasna, Marko, they’re gone, my family. But I’ve
found you again, my first family. You’re a good man,
Damir.”
”So everyone keeps telling me.”
“And a good brother. And I love
you, more than you know.”
Damir scanned his brother’s face for a
moment. “I know. Come on,” he continued,
briskly, “If we hurry we can be back in Zagreb for a late
supper and then the drinks are on you.”
”All of them?”
”Look, I’m a lawyer – what did you think, you’d
get free advice?”
“Well, in that case – while I
still can – I need to make a ‘phone call.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby
was debating whether she had the energy to get up from her chair
and get some breakfast. The effort it would require seemed
enormous. You need to eat Abby. She didn’t
move. When the ‘phone rang she ignored it and her
machine cut in.
“This is Abby, leave a message.”
“Abby, it’ s Luka.”
She shot across the room with an alacrity
which would have shocked her if she’d thought about it and
snatched up the ‘phone.
“Luka, I’m here.” A
pause.
“Did I wake you?”
“Not exactly.” She tried
hard to sound casual, but her heart was cracking her ribs and the
receiver shook in her hand. “I’m sitting here
sort of braising in the heat.”
”It’s bad?”
”Unbearable. “
“It’s been the same here. Look,
I was just calling to say I’ll be back on Wednesday.”
”What time?”
”!0.00 o’clock your time.”
”Shall I meet you?” She could have bitten her
tongue off.
“You’re not working?”
“No.” Not any more
“Oh, well then, yes, please”
He fell silent and she suddenly felt uneasy.
“Luka … where are you?”
A beat. “Vukovar.”
Oh, God.
“It’s OK,” he continued,
“there’s no-one here.”