The Devil Couldn't Break Me (5 page)

I buried myself into my father's coat and cried.

“Hush my child,” he said. “it might just work. Don't you know your Uncle Demir is one of the richest farmers in the Balkans?”

“He is?”

“Yes.”

My father nodded.

I had never been so thirsty in my life and yet it didn't make sense because it was cold, not hot and I had drank plenty of water with my evening meal. Father said it was the fear, the adrenalin. I looked at my watch. Uncle Demir and my mother had been gone for forty minutes now and I convinced myself we would never see them again. People were sitting on the ground, some looked resigned to their fate and Amir clung to my auntie as he shivered in the cold air. Even my father had become disillusioned, muttering under his breath that his brother should have stayed with his family and at least we would have all died together. That wasn't like Agi and I scolded him. He looked at me, smiled and then gently stroked my face.

I was cold and the thirst bothered me, I still didn't understand it. I looked up into the canopy of the forest, the night stars peeked through the light cloud cover and everything looked so beautiful. I thought it was a nice place to die.

An hour had passed and as each minute ticked by I sensed it had been a brave but hopeless cause that Uncle Demir had pursued. Suddenly I was startled by a scream and then another and was aware of people stirring and some starting to stand. I looked at Auntie Naxhia who had started to cry again and to my horror I noticed that the soldiers were walking towards us.

If it was possible, the mass huddle grew ever tighter as everyone pushed together trying to put distance between themselves and the soldier's guns. The boss soldier with the walkie-talkie moved to the front and spoke, or rather barked out an order.

“You will wait here twenty minutes. If you move in that twenty minutes you will be shot.”

He told us he would position soldiers in the forest and down the road to Veliki Trnovac and anyone who disobeyed his instructions would be killed. Within a minute every single soldier had disappeared leaving us cold, tired and confused. No one could understand what was happening, it didn't make any sense.

“They will bomb us from the air,” one man said. “They bombed a market that way and killed hundreds.”

But no, that didn't make sense I thought. If they wanted to kill us then they would have to kill us all so that no one could point the finger of blame. Uncle Demir had been right, they never stopped hunting war criminals and if they tried to bomb us then everyone would scatter immediately and many people would escape the carnage no matter how accurate the bombs were.

I think we stayed there for about ten minutes and then the hysteria rose to panic level. The wind played tricks on us and I was convinced I heard the drone of aircraft even though they never came. So slowly but surely we made our way back down the mountain... over one thousand men, women and children from the town of Veliki Trnovac, one thousand men, women and children from babes in arms to men and women in their nineties who for nearly two hours were convinced they were about to be massacred at any minute by a Serb Army Death Squad. I trembled with fear as I took each step, scanning the trees for the soldiers in hiding, waiting for the sound of the crack of a rifle, searing pain and then nothingness.

But there was no one in the small copses, no soldiers hiding behind bends or crouching behind garden walls. They had gone.

I knew by the time we had reached Uncle Demir's house that miraculously the soldiers had somehow kept their word. We found my uncle and my mother sitting on the garden wall. They had their head in their hands and were clearly crying. As we shouted over to them they looked up in astonishment and then the tears of pain were replaced with tears of joy and they were smiling and running towards us.

My mother was crying like a baby as she held me.

“We thought you were dead ciki, we thought you were dead,” she repeated over and over again.

We found out that Nani and my uncle had been sitting on that wall for over thirty minutes and just like our neighbours at the top of the mountain, as each minute ticked by they had been convinced that the soldiers had reneged on the deal.

We watched the relieved town folk of Veliki Trnovac troop by us for several minutes, their faces painted a mixture of emotions. Yes there were faces still lined with fear and uncertainty but on the whole they were visibly relieved that the town of Veliki Trnovac hadn't become another statistic in this ridiculous war. After the last family had passed us by we turned and walked towards Uncle Demir's house where he promised us a warm fire and some hot drinks.

Sitting around the big wooden dining table Uncle Demir relayed everything that had happened.

“I sensed we would all be killed anyway but it was still worth a chance. I knew how much money I had and I knew it would impress the greedy bastards.”

It was the first time I had heard Uncle Demir swear. No one seemed too troubled, not even my father who normally frowned on anyone who swore, especially girls.

He continued.

“I had millions of dinar locked in safes in the house and we started there. I emptied everything out but sensed it wasn't quite enough so I started digging up the gold in the garden.”

“You have gold in the garden Uncle Axhi?” I asked.

He looked at me and smiled.

“Had, Laura... I had gold in the garden.”

“What did I tell you? He is the richest farmer in the Balkans,” my father said.

“Correction brother,” my uncle said, “I
was
the richest farmer in the Balkans.”

He paused and took a drink from a steaming hot coffee cup.

“All the while I talked to them about war criminals and how there would be nowhere to hide and that the money I was about to give them would set each individual up for life, so why not enjoy it living in peace without looking over your shoulder every five minutes.”

My mother interjected. She said she'd never seen so much money and gold in her life.

“I sensed I was getting through to some of the bastards and the more gold I pulled out of the ground the more of them came over to my way of thinking. Soon they were arguing amongst themselves, some were for killing us but most listened to reason.”

Uncle Demir looked at my father.

“I told you I was the one when it came to talking, didn't I brother?”

My father grinned. It was so nice to see his smile again.

“You did Demir... you did. Perhaps one day they will write a book about you. It would be entitled Veliki Trnovac, the massacre that never was.”

Uncle Demir took more coffee on board and continued.

“One of the soldiers was on his walkie-talkie almost constantly and he was giving the boss man details of exactly how much there was. There came a point when they all knew just how much they would be getting, and yes, they realised just what it would buy after the war.”

Uncle Demir said every soldier would be able to buy a small farm with a house and the boss man would be rich beyond his wildest dreams.

We talked long into the night and watched as the sun came up over the Beli Breg mountains. It was then time to go home. As we stood in the doorway my uncle and my father embraced and my father started to weep.

“What is it brother?” Uncle Demir said. “We are alive and healthy, you should be happy not crying like a schoolgirl.”

“But you have lost everything Demir, you have given it all away.”

“And it was worth it,” he said, “for I have saved the whole village and as you say they will write a book about me and I will be as famous as Mr Schindler in Schindler's List when they make my movie and who knows I might even play the starring role.”

It was a much-needed injection of humour and we all laughed, even my father.

“I have my house and my farm and I still have my dear family and my health. I want for nothing more.”

Father dried his tears and wrapped his arms around Nani and me as we walked out into the cold and started to make our way to the garden gate. As we were half way down the garden path my uncle called out.

“Hey brother.”

We turned around.

“You don't think I gave the silly bastards all of my gold do you?”

My father stuttered.

“Yes... I... I thought-”

Uncle Axhi was laughing.

“If you believe that my brother, then you are as stupid as those soldiers.”

Death of a Hero

The rest of the day was a blur and although we talked a little about the events of the previous evening, most of the day was spent in silence with my father deep in thought, sitting at the kitchen table smoking and drinking copious amounts of Turkish tea. Several times he buried his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh and then looked at me with a forlorn look in his eyes. I couldn't remember ever seeing that look before.

“What is it Agi?” I asked on numerous occasions, but he'd refuse to answer me, shaking his head and returning his face to his hands.

In the end I stopped asking.

Although I was physically exhausted, that evening sleep was hard to come by and when the sun peeked through the open curtains the following morning I felt as if I hadn't gone to bed. I almost crawled out from under the duvet and I so wanted to stay there but at the same time I had an urge to get dressed and go out for a walk. I needed fresh air, I needed to walk through the grass and see the mountain again, I wanted to feel the wind and somehow realise that I was truly alive and not part of a dream.

My parents were sitting at the kitchen table and offered me some breakfast and tea but I refused. When I told them I was going out for a walk they looked worried but nevertheless didn't stand in my way.

“Be careful,” my father said.

I wrapped up against the cold and ventured out. I wanted to walk up the mountain but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do it. Perhaps another time? Instead, I turned the other way and walked towards the centre of the village. I knew immediately that the atmosphere in the town of Veliki Trnovac had changed. To my surprise there were many people around, faces I recognised from the mountain the night before but there were also Serb soldiers everywhere. Their faces were uncovered so I knew I wasn't in any immediate danger but I wondered to myself if any of them had been there on the mountain the previous evening. I was conscious that I was staring at one or two of them and when they caught my eye I quickly averted my gaze.

I tried not to think about the incident on the mountain but it was difficult with so many army uniforms around. It also hit home that the very reason the Serb Soldiers had covered their faces meant that they were fully committed and prepared to carry out the despicable task they had been ordered to do. And forget the cause and the war and whatever false justification they were given, those beasts were ready and willing to shoot innocent men, women and children for money. Nothing else but money, my uncle's
deal
had proved that beyond doubt. I looked again at one or two of the soldiers and found myself loathing them.

As I walked down the main street I noticed one of my friends carrying a suitcase across the road.

I called out to her, to ask where she was going.

“Drita. Where are you going?”

“We are leaving Laura, we have family in Macedonia and we will be safer there.”

“What do you mean?” I said. “This is where you live, you can't leave.”

She looked at me as if I was stupid.

“You were there when they were going to massacre us on the mountain?” She said sarcastically.

“Yes, but-”

“Then you know if it hadn't been for your uncle's money we would have all been murdered.”

I had no answer for her as she continued.

“And you've heard what the Serb soldiers are doing to the Muslim girls.”

“Yes...”

“It makes no difference to them, young or old. They are shooting husbands, fathers and brothers and raping the girls on the spot.”

I took a sharp intake of breath. I'd never heard any of my school friends using that awful word, and because she had used it, it was as if it somehow brought it closer to home... more real. She lifted the heavy suitcase into the boot of a car that had pulled alongside. I recognised her parents and her young brother who was in Amir's class at school. Her mother gave me a little wave.

Drita spoke more quietly now.

“Sometimes they make the husbands and fathers watch as they take turns, it's as if it's all a bit of fun to them.”

She pulled at her hair in an act of frustration and anger.

“The perverted psychopaths. Can you imagine what that must do to a father watching his daughter go through that?”

Drita climbed into the car and started to wind the window down as she leaned out and spoke again.

“I think I'd rather see my father killed before he had to endure that.”

I was subconsciously nodding.

“Goodbye Laura, and thank your uncle for us. We haven't had a chance to see him.”

I stood frozen to the spot while the car disappeared from view and noticed that the road was unusually busy with cars packed to the roof, some with trailers and one or two even towing caravans crammed with their worldly goods. Some of the cars were bursting at the seams taking family members and friends without transport of their own. It seemed the whole of the town of Veliki Trnovac was on the move and it felt like the end of the world.

I took a lemonade in the local café and the talk was of nothing else but who was leaving town and who was staying. I was welcomed warmly as the niece of the man who had saved the entire population and they even refused payment for my drink. They told me the roads to Kosovo and Macedonia were crowded and then they told me to go home because the streets of Veliki Trnovac were no longer safe for a girl like me.

Back home I told my father everything I'd seen, everything I'd been told. He buried his head in his hands and sighed once more and then he looked up and spoke to me.

“You'll have to leave too.”

At first I thought he meant we were leaving as a family but then the truth dawned on me and I realised he meant just me.

“No way,” I said. “No way am I leaving without you or Nani. If I'm going it's with you two, otherwise I stay here.”

My father was furious.

“How dare you question my authority, I'm your father just you remember that and I know what's best for you.”

My mother stood in the corner of the kitchen visibly shocked, but not visibly shocked at my father's words, visibly shocked that I had dared to answer him back in that way. I had never spoken to Agi like that, his word was always the last word and as always he knew what was best. And yet I still argued for all I was worth because the thought of leaving them behind was a pain I couldn't bear to imagine. I was in tears, as was Nani but my father would have none of it and said I was leaving the following morning. His face was red with rage.

“But why just me?” I said.

Agi paused for a few seconds.

“Because you're a girl that's why... you're more at risk than anyone else.”

“But Nani's a girl why can't she go with me?”

My father cast a glance at his wife.

“She can go if she wishes, that's her choice, and she's old enough to decide for herself.”

I looked at Nani who looked terrified and confused and yet I knew at that moment that she would never leave my father's side. I respected and admired her decision in a way but regretted that I was an only child. It would have been so much easier making the journey with a sibling or even two.

Late afternoon he brought a sports bag down from upstairs, a bag he had packed with food and clothes and of course money. The only thing that crossed my mind was that Agi never packed a suitcase... it was always Nani.

And the arguments started again because I knew now that this was for real.

“I won't go without you.” I screamed with tears running down my face.

At this point my father had been standing and I sensed he was about to say something important, perhaps one of those father daughter lectures... but I was wrong. He returned to the table and slowly pulled out a chair. It seemed an enormous effort as he lowered himself into the seat and gazed across the room at me. A smile pulled across his face and then it was gone and he beckoned me to take a seat at the table with him. I walked over and sat down and he reached for my hands which he cupped in his. He spoke in a whisper. His words are still with me today, as if they were spoken yesterday.

“My locki, my beautiful perfect locki. You know I love you with all my heart.”

His eyes were full of tears, the anger having dissolved away in an instant. As he squeezed my hands tight the tears from his big brown eyes began to roll down his cheeks.

It was some time before he was able to get the words out but eventually he wiped his tears away, clenched his teeth and spoke.

“I'm not frightened of anything and I'll gladly accept death with both hands held high,” he said. “They can't hurt me, no one can hurt me.”

He leaned over the table took my face in his hands and kissed me on the forehead.

“But I can't bear the thought of watching you abused by them, I can't locki.”

We cried together and he took out a handkerchief and wiped my cheeks.

“I don't want to see that locki, you understand?”

“Yes Agi.”

“Surely that's not too much for a father to ask of his daughter.”

I shook my head. No words would form on my lips.

“So you will leave first thing tomorrow okay?”

Without wanting to I nodded my head just once.

“Good,” he said. “that's settled. I will sleep all the better tonight.”

We sat together at the kitchen table as a family and drank tea as if it were going out of fashion. I didn't even like tea but it was sort of expected, a bit like a final supper but without any supper because no one had the appetite for food. We sat holding hands, all three of us, parting occasionally to pick up a cup to take a drink. Eventually I decided it was time to get ready for bed and prepared myself for the worst day of my life. No matter what my parents said to comfort me I still felt as if I was abandoning them, the people who meant more to me than the world itself.

My father's mobile phone rang just before midnight. It was late and my heart skipped a beat as I answered. It was Auntie Naxhia.

“Hi Auntie Naxhia, how are you?”

She asked for my father and I knew straight away something was wrong.

My father took the phone and within seconds he was at the door, pulling on his coat with one hand while holding the phone with the other.

“We'll be there right away,” he said.

“What is it Agi?”

“Get your coat and the car keys Laura, your Uncle Demir is ill. I'll get my medical bag.”

Despite the winter conditions I jumped into the car dressed only in my pyjamas and no shoes and drove the short distance to my uncle's house. Auntie Naxhia was waiting for us, tears streaming down her face and she ushered us quickly to the second floor bedroom where uncle's body lay at the side of the bed. My father was down on his knees straight away. Uncle Demir was conscious but not speaking and looked at us with a puzzled look on his face. He was grey and his body so cold to the touch and my auntie was shaking him by the arm.

“You're not leaving us Demir,” she said over and over again.

“He's fine,” my father kept saying. “You're going to be just fine Demir.”

Father checked his vital organs and gave him a series of injections before telling us we had to get him into the car and over to the surgery. We carried him down the stairs and thankfully by the time we moved outside Uncle Demir was able to stand by himself and even managed to speak a few words.

“You're going to be fine Uncle Axhi.” I said.

I drove as fast as I could to the surgery and nearly careered off the road at one point but we eventually made it and we helped him into the surgery. I remember Uncle Demir turned to me and grinned and said it was the first time he had ever been driven in a car by a woman.

In the surgery father managed to get him to lie on a treatment table where he examined him some more and gave him another two injections. He appeared to have recovered well and was alert and communicating fine. I was so relieved.

“We still need to get him to a hospital.” father announced. “Vranje is only thirty minutes away.”

Father said he would drop me back home and he would go to the hospital with Naxhia. I objected, I wanted to go too but father said I had to go back and get Amir the next morning as he had been staying at a friend's house.

When I returned home I told Nani all the details but said that Uncle Axhi was fine. He'd perhaps need to stay in hospital for a few days but whatever had happened to him, he seemed to be over the worst.

Early the following morning my mobile phone rang. It was my father calling from the hospital. He had been there all night and as he spoke I knew there was something terribly wrong.

“You need to get Amir and bring him here now Laura.”

“What is it Agi, how is Uncle Axhi?”

“Just do as I say locki.”

I drove to the friend's house and knocked on the door. Poor Amir was in bed and she had to wake him. I explained about Uncle Demir and Amir got dressed and climbed into the car. Amir kept asking about his father and I didn't know what to say. I told him his father had been taken ill through the night and he was in the hospital at Vranje.

“How is Babi?” Amir kept asking. “Is he going to be okay?”

I kept telling him I didn't know but we'd find out soon.

We pulled into the hospital and I drove into a parking bay, turned the engine off and quickly ran round to Amir who was struggling with his seatbelt. I helped him out of the car and he reached for my hand as we ran towards the hospital entrance.

About twenty-five yards from the hospital I looked up and saw my father and Auntie Naxhia standing by the doorway. I froze. My eyes fixed on Auntie Naxhia and I knew by the empty look in her tear-drenched eyes that my darling uncle was dead. I lost the power in my legs and fell to the ground. I couldn't breathe. It was as if a big hole had been bored into my stomach, as if a part of me had died. Amir didn't know what to do, didn't know who to run to. I wanted to stand and be strong for Amir as he too collapsed in tears beside me.