Field of Blackbirds - Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (me reader txt) 📗

contradicting his usual confidence around the opposite sex.
“You must be Lazar,” she said, with a mouth shaped like a cupid’s bow.
“Yeah, I am Lazar.” was all he could muster. “I mean yes, how did you know that?”
“Mr. Nowak talks about you,” she admitted. “I live in Visegrad, but I’m staying in Belgrade for the summer. My aunt lives right over there,” she pointed. “Mr. Nowak has been kind enough to let me ride his horses.”
Just then, Lazar realized that he had seen her before.
“Are you in theatre?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s my major. That’s why I’m in Belgrade. I’m taking classes at the University.”
Lazar knew he had only seen beauty like this once before. Two weeks ago he had taken Dejana to the Great Theatre to see ‘Romeo & Juliet’. Lazar couldn’t keep his eyes off of her then either. It became so noticeable that Dejana had to physically scold him.
“So you must be Juliet.” Lazar said with a clever look on his face.
“Yes, but most people call me Milla, Milla Markovich.”
Over the next six months, Lazar had taken more riding and acting lessons than usual and Milla stayed in Belgrade a little longer than planned.
It had been over a year since Lazar had seen Milla, but she was all he could think about now. He thought of their passionate moments together, when the day seemed to never end and the night would disappear, and all they could think about was when they would see each other again. He thought of the laughs they shared and even pictured her smiling at him now. It was a smile that confirmed he was the last one standing in the battle for her heart. They had made plans together, even made promises to one another. She was perfect. He wondered to himself what she was doing now.
Why did I give her up? Lazar asked himself. Why did I trade her away? Lazar wanted it all back, but a terrible reality swept over him; It’s too late.
When Lazar got back to his camp, he was comforted to see a letter on his cot from Mr. Nowak. Mr. Nowak kept in touch with Lazar through writing. He sat down on his cot and situated his bandage. He removed his field knife from his belt and opened the letter.

“Lazar, Czesc dobrego syn moje! (Polish – Hello my good son!), All is well in Belgrade. Business is going very well at the moment. I have added two new rooms to The Time Machine. This way we have more elbow space. Your family is well. I was able to help Dejana get into Novi Sad University in northern Serbia. She is very excited about it. Her marks are very high and she has so much talent. It would be a shame for her not to succeed because of lack of opportunity. She will be happy there.” Lazar knew that Mr. Nowak paid a lot of money to get Dejana into Novi Sad. He also knew that his primary reason for helping her was to get her out of Belgrade and to a place where there was less violence. Mr. Nowak loved Lazar and Dejana like they were his own children. “Lazar, your mother has expressed concern that she is being left all alone. I hope you don’t think too much of this or think that it’s for the wrong reasons, but I have asked your mother to move in with me. I would stay in the shop and she could stay in my apartment above. I have already moved some of my things down into the shop. Your mother has told me to give her time to think about it. She says she wants to know how you feel first, if you would be okay with it. Lazar, the truth is, I really do care for your mother. I don’t want her to feel lonely. And I don’t want her to have to worry about making ends meet. I want to take some of her stresses away and I don’t want you always wondering how she is doing or if she is well. Write and let me know how you feel about this. You know you can be honest with me. I can find other ways to take care of her if she doesn’t move in with me. Be careful out there Lazar. Stay true to your character.”

Idz z Bogiem! (Go with God)
-Mr. Nowak

Lazar had a feeling a day like this would come. Not only did Lazar advocate the idea, he anticipated writing a letter home to send his approval. Mr. Nowak’s loyalty and affection for the family was exemplary. He earned his way in. And in so many ways, Mr. Nowak had already become Lazar’s father.


Chapter 3 Visegrad


Lazar had just begun to write Mr. Nowak when his squad leader poked his head in the door.
“Lazar, be ready to ship out by 0500 tomorrow morning. Our mission just changed direction. They’re sending us to Visegrad for a ‘cleansing’. The Muslims there have refused to evacuate and are showing some resistance.”
The squad leader then assured that there would be more Intel by morning. ‘Visegrad’, the word shot through Lazar like a dagger. Uneasiness began twisting its way through his body. He thought of Milla and he began to panic. He thought of her being in trouble or hurt. It was unbearable. What devastated him most was the fact that he would be the one delivering the blows. Lazar couldn’t possibly go through with this. He had to stop it somehow. He wondered if there was some way to contact her before tomorrow. He knew her family didn’t have a telephone and a letter would be too late. He thought he was going to burst with anxiety and grief. He wanted to leave now and run all through the night. Lazar began to shake. His thoughts became scattered and sporadic. It was the worst day of Lazar’s life, only to be dwarfed when the dawn broke tomorrow.
Lazar couldn’t sleep. He was plagued by a clock that wouldn’t stop ticking. It was now 0445 in the morning. He sat hunched over at the edge of his bed, staring at nothing. He hoped that the mission would be cancelled or the people of Visegrad would flee on their own free will. Nausea made its first visit.
Lazar met up with the rest of his company as they were forming the convoy. No one seemed bothered or surprised by the mission. Lazar saw soldiers loading up trucks with extra ammunition and explosives. It was really no different from any other mission they had been on. The only difference was that every other offensive was against armed and uniformed Albanians or Kacak resistors, not civilians refusing to leave their homes. Lazar walked over to the soldiers to help load the trucks. Just as he reached to grab one of the boxes, he unexpectedly vomited next to the stockpile.
“Hey Katich, are you all right?” asked a young private, who was taking a smoking break.
“I’m alright. I don’t know what that was about.” Lazar replied.
But then he vomited again. This time it caused him to buckle over. He felt his forehead begin to sweat and his muscles weakened. Now a Sergeant noticed what was going on.
“Hey Katich, if you’re sick then you should sit this one out. Go see the Doc.”
Maybe he could escape this mission, Lazar thought. He couldn’t possibly bear the guilt of seeing Milla. It was a thought that made him want to crawl into a hole and die. But Lazar knew Milla was in danger and he could do nothing to help her if he stayed behind. Lazar was more confident now than ever. He loved Milla and he would be there for her. Even if it cost him his own life, he couldn’t see her in pain.
“No Sergeant, I’m not sick. It’s tradition; I do this before every mission. I guess it’s just nerves or something.” Lazar tried to smile.
“Then stop wasting time and finish loading these boxes.” he ordered.
When the convoy reached Visegrad, it was still dark. There was little movement in the town. They were obviously not expecting visitors. Lazar’s heart pounded as he tried to control his breathing. He couldn’t believe things had gotten this bad, that it had come to this. Their orders were to clear the homes. If anyone resisted, they were to be shot. If anyone tried to escape, they were to be shot. Everyone else would be detained and shipped to relocation camps in Albania. Resistance was already organized in Visegrad and that’s why they were there. It was reported that the people had small arms and were determined to defend their homes.
Lazar knew that Milla’s brother, Ibrahim, would be part of the resistance. Even though he was only sixteen, Ibrahim was vocal about his hatred for the new Serbian government. Lazar hoped that he wouldn’t meet him today.
Search teams consisted of five men each. They began clearing the houses. Most people were still in their beds. The first house Lazar cleared belonged to an elderly lady. She didn’t try to resist. She only seemed a little confused about what was going on.
After only a few minutes the screaming and yelling came, then the gunshots. Adrenaline started to surge through Lazar’s body. He wanted to scream himself. He felt he had to move fast. He couldn’t stay with his team any longer. He would worry about the discipline later, if he was even alive.
Milla’s home was at the southeast end of the city, next to the Drina River. If Lazar ran, he could make it before anyone else