A meeting in Krk Last August we spent a few days in Croatia. A normal low cost holiday (see the paradise of beer: € 0.5 to 2 ...).
would have been a normal holiday, in fact, had it not been for a special meeting and unexpected.
Now I have told ... The start of something
He says absently, staring at the narrow street corners and small bumps:-We could stop here, there are none.
A low wall of rocks separates the asphalt from the bushes and locust trees, from which the chirp inexhaustible a cicada.
- Come on, stop, it's beautiful.
Because she wants to dive into the water, swim in the amniotic fluid of quell'insenatura where you can see only a few distant human presence. He
approaches. He drove to the cave Biserujka, who have seen the night before on a flyer. But when they arrived was already closed and there was no way to wrest an exception to the caretaker. So I'm back in the Mogi point, the road back.
set out with backpacks among the sharp rocks, smaller and smaller as you approach the shore. They smile because Anna was right, the beach is just for them. They strip, wearing plastic shoes to extricate the seabed. In front there is the creek where the water, brushed by a breeze perfect, it is collected away from the noise of the besieged towns across the island.
Anna goes on to give the momentum and swimming. It's hot, he says. He remains behind, as usual, the water reached to his costume, he can not swim, the fear that the water does not put the trust takes precedence over your feet off the ground. Know what you're losing, but is resigned to prove every time that pang of regret. He dives a little to the neck, gritting his teeth for the thermal, then go underwater with your head, hold your nose. When re-emerges, sees water fish that draw trajectories lightning image of his face tanned and with less hair. Then Anna looks more and more off and decided to return to shore, trying not to trip over the rocks.
While waiting, lights a cigarette, breathing in the silence. In the lead overlook words that is working. Should take the paper and pen in the bottom of the pack or risk losing them.
Meanwhile she is back, has a big smile as his face and says you are well off, there are no currents. Is wrapped in orange cloth and dries a bit '.
He points to a point on the other side of the creek: I wonder- how to get there. It must be even better.
remain so to fix the strip of land swallowed up after a dusty corner of the stain. They talk of the day, who knows how it will be dinner, Anna is terrified of garlic, hangs in the restaurant the same smell that stench from the apartment comes to the Tunisians for their landing. It is a time when all things seem to have their place: the sun low in the cloudless sky, the wind gusts that dries the costumes, the last sips of warm water bottle, their talk about the things caught by a bottomless pit, because maybe there's a fine, just do not want it.
After some time, decide to return, otherwise it will end up over dinner, given the slow pace with which juggles the cooks in the kitchen. So start to finish with gestures tested. He would like to say that tomorrow, instead of fighting through the crowd in August, could return there, he read in peace, you do a long swim. They could also go there forever, if possible.
When I almost reached the point, they see a couple of gentlemen, which are also about to leave. They're coming out of a nearby road, closed by a rusty gate. For their feet are tired and safe, driven by patient perseverance that comes from the seasons. Say out loud the next time you go there. Their Emphasis is Trieste, Istria speak the dialect.
Anna is the first approach, asking where the road leads through the gate. The man replies that what they said because they heard them speak in Italian. The lady explained that it is state land, the cows graze, bathe those who live in the country.
- You are from here? - Asks the boy.
- Yes, of Cyzicus.
The two young men are some clumsy attempts to pronounce that word, Vizici, Cicivi, Civic. They laugh all four.
The Lord sits in the driving seat, puts his arm up to the door and asked:-Where are you from?
- from Pordenone.
- While we were those parties, Trst
... Since the atmosphere of the place is really charming, the boy comes to mind to ask them if they know someone who rents rooms and apartments.
She is quick to say yes, then, lowering her husband, whispers something in Croatian. He responds with dry monosyllables. Then turns again to the two young people:-We too flat. This year we have not hired because we were bad. But next year, who knows ...
Anna smiles and asks if they can give their phone number.
She falls back to her husband and whispers something. He rummages in the dashboard and a piece of paper and a pen, while writing on the thigh lean, repeats the address and numbers 520,654.
's going to lengthen the paper when his wife interrupts the gesture, saying:-L 'apartment is beautiful, the place is quiet. Here now all rented apartments.
- We like it here - it echoes Anna.
The boy asks their names.
- Nadia.
- Branko.
- We Anna.
- ... And Roberto.
The lady down and his eyes are swelling in an unexpected jolt of pain, maybe that day was pressed back into muted:-I also had a son named Robert. The husband
bows his head, shaking his large straw hat faults, as if the severity of memory also attracted him to the dizzy of the earth. And now there was a whole work to do the same, bandage the wound, to straighten the bow.
not know what to say, Anna and Robert. They are there with that pain that is cast by the words and do not know where to go, but certainly not coming back in as easily.
There is only time to watch their eyes bright and evasive, to slide in the space of half sorry, to hear a push to those two figures as the biggest myths that lurk behind the normal pains of gestures, a persistent pain, tragic, because it should never happen that a parent survives the death of his son.
greet each other with kindness and embarrassment, as if one side wanted to escape all confident in their corners, the other to stay, because that is something that can not be stopped and why, scaled the wall, along the wave is less impetuous. Branko
a last gesture with his hand and start by raising a little dust.
Roberto and Anna stay with their faces in the eye. She looks at Robert and began to cry, saying poor people, what happened. And Magone creeps all night, at dinner, strolling among the elbows in the streets of Crikvenica, between platoons of German tourists and crowded stores. Does not go away, endures.
- We must do something - says Anna floodlit on the waterfront - if we make sense of the meeting today.
- I say we go - Roberto whispers - we have the address. Hands in his pockets and his gaze to the boats waiting for the next excursion. An upbeat music coming from the dock.
- We need to bring something, because they remember us. " Because we certainly will remember them.
- flowers?
- A photo of us.
- write something ... And - like the idea Roberto. Anna has a gift, manages to talk about things.
They choose the image of the two of them at the entrance to the North Cape, on their honeymoon, the year before. It's better than where they came from. Padded jackets in the midnight sun, a smile stretched from the icy wind. Roberto maintained with the iPhone to some other, every now and still looks. The
leading to the development in the one photo shop still open.
the way now know it, is like the thread that retracts into a coil. You get to Krčki Most, you pay the toll, continue for a few kilometers until you see the cave. The road is a long coil without the centerline. At a crossroads on the left and right down to the cave rooms are at Cyzicus, along a gravel road on steep slopes.
must find the house, have the address. They asked a lady with glasses sitting under the pergola. When you hear people who are looking for, offers to accompany them. She drives sent because he knows the way, while Robert is in trouble along the way more and more narrow. In short
are in front of a gate opened and a small garden with roses and an unripe persimmon tree. Branko out from the house. That put her hand on his forehead, a shovel, because it has against the sun. Exit also
Nadia, with a floral pinafore.
recognize them and smile, are steps towards the point. Roberto
off the car with the photo. Anna first suggested not to stop, not to bother, just give the photo of the meeting and thank them. Branko approaches, greets him in his eyes read the surprise and delight, he tells you we took a picture, we thought about what happened yesterday and we would like to leave a memory, but now we go away immediately. Nadia says joking do not take the photos if you do not enter the house at least a moment. Then
park. Greets the lady with glasses and starts again. He seems to have wanted to make sure that all was well.
They enter the tavern, which was once the cellar, when Branko had the screws. But now it's too much work and buys wine from a friend.
Nadia makes them sit down and say that yesterday kept thinking I wonder if they'll see if they will return. Branko smiles and offers of wine with Robert, uncorking a bottle that is already on the table. Anna just wants a bit 'of water. Nadia apologizes, has nothing to offer. Roberto
stretches the picture and tries to explain again the magical aura that is imprinted in their minds the day before.
after watching them for a while, Nadia sighs and says, today we went to the beach, hot weather, this year we were wrong. Then his eyes slowly oscillate from the picture with Robert and picks up where they left the day before, "says my son has been missing recently, his voice is a cable that vibrates more and more serious, was a lawyer, worked in Rijeka, was to visit us every Friday, also had the girl, but was not satisfied with the work, had lost weight, had always a sore head, I always go to show you Roby, one day went to the emergency room and they found cancer in the brain, has happened in a month.
Branko is setting the tendons of the hand rough on the table, in addition to Christmas was here on January 18 and was gone.
is so, in silence, to stop the tears, especially Branko, who wants to look the stronger of the two, so that strives to change the subject, says things are bad, we have suffered, but we must go forward, even if it is fresh, use precisely this term, which seems to refer to a paint that will not dry and perhaps a collapse of rock in a landslide. It marks a proverb Istria, which is more or less die, but never give up.
ask the two young people what their job, where they come from exactly. Nadia says that her aunt lived in Mestre, after the war, was a refugee. Branko has been a journalist for forty years in Rijeka, from about twenty years he returned to his country, in the house where he was born. He writes, was recently published his latest novel, Masters and Master, which was presented to the party Dobrinj, the largest country around there.
- My own book was published recently - says Roberto.
- What to write? - Calls Branko, whose eyes lit up.
- Poems. But not only ...
Nadia takes a look at Anna and said poor, I understand you. They all laugh.
- I too have begun with the poems, then I wrote novels and a vocabulary of the dialects here, it was a work of years.
- The father of Anna is interested in dialects and wrote the history books.
There are too many coincidences, too many threads that are woven and knotted casually lives. Yesterday at this time were gaining a place to hang out the towels in the strip of beach full of Malinska. If they had not made a detour to the cave in the afternoon would not be here, they would take the sun until sunset eating fruit and bread sticks and would not have heard these stories, which fill the air damping of the tavern and go do something more between the bodies of words.
Anna asks if they have other children.
- One, the largest - Nadia meets - is a widow, her husband died in the last war.
The last war ended for them in 1995, for the young is the second world war. It is as if there were two lines of time on shore events which belonged to different generations. An uncle of his grandfather Robert was killed in the war, a distant relative of Anna was shot by the Germans. The son of Nadia and Branko died in the war twenty years ago. It is strange to think that could have happened again and remember that today is so blurry that war, reducing the causes of the melting pot of races held in hand by Tito and then exploded in a way unheard of.
Her daughter is away, has children, you do not see often. So they
are here in the birthplace of Branko, and must fight against the noise of the memories in the days roll by opening wounds that they might not even have plans to close because it is too dense and too little acute courage to turn the page, because it is a tragedy that has split their little lives and forces them to live, despite everything.
- I'll show you the apartment - Nadia says, rising from his wooden chair.
While climbing stairs, talking about the hot sultry little luck, but you always speak as if the existence of those details that have created openings. Nadia is confused and calls the young Roby.
The apartment is spacious, has two bedrooms, a beautiful kitchen, air conditioning, another room full of books stacked to the ceiling. - I Branko - he says - put them here because there's nowhere else. When
fall, he went to pick up a copy of his book. He wrote a dedication in Croatian, Thanks for the pleasant meeting. Heart.
Roberto looks long in his eyes thanked him. They are as deep as a clear sea, and he now wants to remove his feet from the bottom to enter the arms, they give a glimpse worlds and memories, stir in the struggles of life, but they seem happier, they are almost to thank him, because this meeting is good for everyone, is the beginning of something is sure to be hoped that until the end.
