We Trade Our Night for Someone Else's Day by Ivana Bodrozic (books to read to improve english txt) 📗
- Author: Ivana Bodrozic
Book online «We Trade Our Night for Someone Else's Day by Ivana Bodrozic (books to read to improve english txt) 📗». Author Ivana Bodrozic
22.
Weary
inhale me, exhale me
relax me, release me
bring me, take me
place me, leave me
leave me
now (fall 2010)
When he shut the door behind him she knew where he was going. Without a goodbye. He’d been texting before he left, perched on the edge of the bed, while the whole time under the skin of his face his jaw was tensing and releasing. She saw herself go over to him, stroke his hair, tuck her knee between his legs and take away his cell phone. She saw herself do this from the chair where she was sitting. But she did nothing, she didn’t move, though she knew that only one tender gesture would have been enough for the earth to spin off on an entirely different orbit. She didn’t have the strength for it, even if in her deepest self she wished she did. She had to keep her grip and do nothing; this was the easy way out—let him go so far away that he’d never come back. Once she was alone, she made the bed, tidied the desk, washed the dishes. Dawn. She folded his clothes and buried her nose in his shirt sleeves. For a long time she inhaled his scent; it took her back to a street, years ago, where chestnut trees bloomed, to the smell of her gray terrier’s wet fur and roasting corn, and it made her think of all the shades of green of the river in August. In a flash she could see herself lying on a sofa, wearing his shirt, while outside a soft gloom settled, and his hand was resting on her belly, which was starting to swell. Even thinking this, risking so much, was unbearable. They’d have to take on the entire world. Sooner or later something would happen to one of them, and the rest of her life would be reduced to remembering and waiting. Plan B was more bearable; she’d chosen Plan B in advance. Now all she’d have to do was to live out the rest in a blur, and an end would come, as it always did. The amount of torment in life was always proportionate to the amount of earlier happiness; for happiness one needed courage, a touch of madness, and at least a small reserve of faith. But she’d long since spent whatever reserve of faith she had. She took a shower and dressed, opened his laptop, and went online. On YouTube she typed in “Ekatarina Velika, ‘Love,’” pressed pause, and watched the words scroll up on the screen:
I’ve always slept
with your name on my lips
you’ve always slept
with my name on your lips
and wherever I go
your hand is in mine
and when I wish to speak
I say we
She walked out of the apartment. Slowly, to the police station. The city was stirring; children were going in their separate groups to their separate Serbian and Croatian schools, nuns were gathering out in front of the hospital again, meanwhile up on the second floor the doctors were sterilizing their instruments, on the bench at the bus station a drunk was dozing. Everything was the same as it ever was. At the entrance to the police station Inspector Grgić bumped into her, nearly knocking her down. When he saw who it was, he seemed to wake up.
“You, again!” he snapped. “Not now, I’m in a rush; I’ve had a report of a murder! Come back this afternoon.” She stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
“I know,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
“Look, I’ve no time for nonsense right now!” He was irritated.
“I did not come with nonsense,” she said quietly.
“Ma’am, the laptop can wait. Meanwhile it seems like everybody in the city is getting killed!” he shouted.
“Ilinčić. I know.”
“What? What do you know? How?” he asked.
“May we step inside for a moment so I can tell you?” she asked in a low voice.
“Ohhh . . . wait.” He took his cell phone from his pocket and swiveled away from her. “Go to the hotel; I’ll be there in ten.” Then he swiveled back:
“Right this way, but please, quick and to the point. Please.” He was at his wit’s end. Nora nodded. While they passed through the station waiting area, Melania Gmaz shot up out of one of the plastic chairs as soon as
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