Wednesday, December 3, 2008

This is the last of this story. I'll write another story for tomorrow if I get the chance.

He was standing outside the old school house when the kids came barreling out the door chattering excitedly and squealing with pleasure at the end of the school day. They were free now to play, laugh, and run to their hearts content. As the last two little girls came walking out the door whispering behind their hands to each other and giggling, they tossed curious looks in his direction and giggled again as they jumped off the porch and ran toward their classmates. Rico peeked in the doorway and watched her clean the board. He was content to just watch her gorgeous backside sway as she moved her arm back and forth cleaning the blackboard. He allowed himself to enjoy the view before she felt his eyes on her back and turned to see him smiling lazily at her.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked her lazily.

“You startled me, and no thank you. I’m finished for the day.” She answered a little self consciously, as she bent behind the big teacher’s desk and opened the bottom drawer to pull out her purse. She took a moment to compose herself and slowly put her purse strap over her shoulder and he intently watched her every move. “I’m ready when you are.” She said standing up slowly and meeting his eyes.

“Let’s go.” He said as he reached out and took her arm in his while simultaneously removing the keys from her fingers as they approached the door. He held the door open for her as she passed through. Then closing it firmly he placed the key in the keyhole and locked up the classroom for the night.

“I’d like to walk up the hill,” he told her as they started strolling through the platana on their way out of the center of the village. “I started walking this way this afternoon and I spotted a camp of gypsies. There were two small children. I’m guessing they don’t go to school.” He said questioningly.

“No, the gypsies who come through here are usually from Romania and come here via Belgrade. I always try to get to know the families and see if I can convince them to let their children attend classes for a while at least. Sometimes the families are open to the idea and others are not quite so supportive,” She explained a bit nervously.

They strolled in comfortable silence up the hill toward the old house at the top of the field until they got to the spot where he had seen the gypsy children and their settlement just a couple of hours ago. When he got to the curve in the road where the children had popped up out of the bushes. He stopped and gripped her elbow and turned her to face the area where he had seen the camp. They stood silently as he pointed in the direction he had observed earlier.
She peered through the growth of brush and bushes and spotted the camp set up. They stood in comfortable companionship and watched as gypsies went about their business of setting taking care of their camp, while waiting to catch sight of the children. Suddenly about a dozen children ranging from toddler to young teenagers came running around one of the trailers, squealing in delight at the game they were playing.

As he watched her delight in watching the children, he suddenly felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. For the first time in his life, he felt the desire to have children of his own. He knew that just having children would not be enough, he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had children with this particular woman. This woman that he had known for less than twenty – four hours. What was wrong with him? What had gotten in to him? Why would he be having these fantasies about children and marriage and Zorka? How could this be?

His mother had always told him that someday a woman would come along that he wouldn’t be able to resist and when the right one came along he would know it. He had just assumed he was meant to be a lifelong bachelor. Not that he didn’t like the company of women. He did. He had been involved in many relationships over the years. He had come close to proposing once, but the words of wisdom from his mother kept coming back to him, “When it’s right. You’ll know.” He had never understood what that meant. Now he knew. He knew with everything fiber in his being, that Zorka was the woman for him. But how could she be the woman for him? They live a fourteen hour flight apart. It wasn’t like he court her, and win her heart. How do you date somebody that literally lives on the other side of the world? Her life is here in Serbia, his is in the United States of America. He suddenly felt very old and very sad. Wouldn’t you know it…. After all of these years, he falls in love, and it’s with the completely wrong woman. He knew that he had had no choice in the matter. She was his destiny, his soul mate.

He shook the thought out of his head and resolved to spend as much time as possible with this love of his life as he could during the next few weeks. He would make enough happy memories to last him a lifetime. He would bring her as much pleasure as he could. He would have pleasure of knowing that he does love deeply, and that he will do whatever it takes to make Zorka’s life the best life she can have. He loved her enough to want only the best for her, and he had to admit to himself, that sadly, he was not the best for her. He could never ask her to give up her family and her life and move half way around the world with him.

He managed to avert his eyes just before she turned toward him. “I wish they could come to school. The world is changing. Even here in the hills of Serbia it is becoming necessary to have an education. They need to be able to read and write. They need to know how to do simple math and count money.” The words rushed out of her fervently. She blushed somewhat shyly, as she caughter herself getting passionate about the children. He thought she was adorably charming in her passion.

He wished he could see her eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush with a passion turned in his direction. He wanted that passion turned in his direction. He shook his head to bring his thoughts back to the here and now.
He grabbed her hand in his and gently guided her back to dusty gravel road and continued up the hill. “There is a small cottage at the top of the hill.” He told her, “Do you know if anybody lives there?”

“Baba Mira lives up there.” She answered quickly. She had caught the look in his eyes before he turned away and was confused by what it meant. It was a very deep and personal look with a hint of sadness. She had to wonder if she had done something to upset him.

“Do you think she would like some company?” He asked curiously?

“Oh can we go see her?” She asked him excitedly. “We haven’t seen her come down the hill in a few weeks, and I’ve been concerned about her. I have been meaning to get up there to see her. She’ll be happy to see us.”

He held on to her hand as they traveled in comfortable silence the rest of the way up the mountain.

“Baba,” she called quietly as they walked up to the door, “Baba Mira? Are you here?”

“Zorka? Is that you little Zorka?” They heard a weak voice call from inside the cottage.

“Yes, Baba. It is me Zorka. I have a friend with me. “Kum Rico is with me. He’s here with his Baba Nada. Kuma Nada came to visit Uncle Andrej and Tete Mila.” She gushed as they were approaching the last few steps to the old weathered door.

Rico’s eyes strained trying to adjust to the dim light in the little cottage. . It was a square room with a rustic ladder leading up to a loft. There was an ominous black wood stove for cooking against one wall, flanked by dusty shelves, covered in cobwebs on each side. There was a rough square table and two obviously handmade chairs in the middle of the room, and nothing more.

This was a million times worse than he had even imagined. He suddenly stopped at the horrible thought that suddenly pushed its way through his brain. “Where is her bathroom?” He meekly asked her.

“It’s around back,” her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“You can’t be serious!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, but I am.” She intoned, not even trying to conceal her laughter.

He couldn’t imagine this sweet little lady living up here by herself with no running water and an outhouse. “What does she do for water?” he asked skeptically.

“She has a barrel set up outside to catch the rainwater. It rains a lot up here so she catches and funnels the rainwater. As long as she boils it in the kettle on the wood stove the water is potable.” She explained patiently to him, noting his incredulous expression.

“But she’s really old. How old is she? How can she do this all by herself? Does she have any family to help her out?” He demanded.

“It is getting harder for her, and she’s in her late 80s. Her only son has passed away and her two granddaughters have moved away. One lives in Belgrade now and the other moved to the United States. My friends and I take turns checking in on her. She’s pretty independent though and doesn’t like to be fussed over.” She continued trying to set his mind at ease at the same time trying to convince herself that it really was going to be alright.

“Baba? You don’t look well. What’s wrong?” Zorka asked lovingly as she went to the old lady laying on her bed, too weak to get up and greet her unexpected guests. Zorka reached out her hand and felt the old woman’s forehead. When she felt the heat and perspiration on the wrinkled, leather like face, she got immediately worried. “Baba? What is it? You aren’t well?”

“I’ve been down to the doctor. I’m going to be alright. The doctor gave me some antibiotics and some other medicine. He says it’s pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” Baba answered weakly trying to raise up on the bed, but giving up and just reaching out her hand to pat Zorka’s arm comfortingly.

“Pneumonou what?” Zorka asked trying to wrap her tongue around the very large, very foreign word.

“Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,” Baba Mira repeated.

“pneumonoultramicro?” Rico tried to repeat.

“Say it slowly.” Baba instructed. “pneumono”

“Pneumono,” Zorka and Rico repeated together.

“Very good. Now add “ultra” to it.” The older woman instructed. “Pneumonoultra”

“Pneumonoultra,” the two younger people repeated diligently.

“Very good. Now add ‘micro’”, She continued. “You’ll have pneumonoultramicro”

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