Braco

by Lesleyanne Ryan

  “We can give him some food and Maarten’s spare boots,” Jac said. “It’ll be enough for two or three days.”

  Marija’s eyes moved between the peacekeepers. The fingers of one hand covered her mouth and she swiped a tear away with the other.

  The hand dropped from her lips. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  Jac hesitated, the full impact of what he was doing suddenly hitting him.

  I’m telling a mother to let her son run off by himself into the forest that’s going to be filled with Serbs trying to track him down along with the rest of the men.

  He looked at the waiting buses. Two Dutch carriers pulled up into view and parked on opposite sides of the road. The vehicles became a funnel for the refugees moving towards the buses. Jac realized the funnel would make it easier for the Serbs to pick the men out of the crowd.

  Atif’s chances just got slimmer.

  Jac turned to Marija. “No. I don’t think you do.”

  “Are you talking about me, Korporaal Jac?”

  The three adults looked down.

  “If you’re talking about me, don’t do it to my back. Please.”

  Marija rubbed a hand over her face. Jac passed her his towel and she dried her eyes.

  “You’re right, Atif,” Jac said.

  Marija laid a gentle hand on Jac’s arm.

  “Let me tell him.”

  Jac nodded. Marija sat with her son.

  “Do me a favour,” Jac said, turning to Maarten. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him. I need you to go back to the carrier. Grab some rations and anything else you think he might need.”

  “Like my boots?”

  “Put it on my tab.”

  “You think he’s going?”

  “I think so. We should be ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll be quick.”

  “Oh, and grab one of my green shirts. The long sleeved one.”

  Maarten gave Jac a mock salute and disappeared into the crowd.

  WEDNESDAY: MARIJA STAVIC

  “MAMA?”

  Marija pulled her thoughts together before turning to face her son. She tried to draw in a full breath, but the pain growing in her chest made it difficult.

  Am I doing the right thing?

  She trusted Jac. He had been good to them. Atif had met Jac late last January, speaking to him one day in English when the peacekeeper was on guard duty. The next time they saw Jac on duty, Marija had made him a loaf of bread and Atif delivered it hot. They’d been friends ever since. Jac had given them extra food and cigarettes to help them through the winter. He refused to accept money in exchange for the cigarettes and had even turned down his vacation because he was afraid the Serbs wouldn’t let him back into the safe area.

  Jac wouldn’t lie to me. He cares about Atif, worries about him. And he’s right.

  If she kept Atif with her, the Serbs would get him.

  He has to follow the men.

  A tear dropped.

  How do I let him go?

  She crouched next to Atif and brushed the dirt from her son’s shoulder as she tried to find the right words.

  How do I convince him that he is better off in the woods?

  “What’s going on, Mama?”

  “We think….” she started and then stopped. “I think it’s too dangerous for you to stay. I want you to follow the men to Tuzla.”

  “What? No, Mama. I have to stay with you.”

  “No!” Marija took a breath. “You can’t, Atif, you can’t. You’ve seen what the Chetniks will do. Korporaal Jac can’t be around all the time. The next time, they might get you.”

  Atif gazed up at Jac.

  “She’s right,” the peacekeeper said.

  “But the men are gone,” Atif replied. “The Chetniks are everywhere.”

  Jac crouched next to Atif and repeated to him everything he had told his mother. Atif looked dazed, but he seemed to soak up every word. He didn’t cry.

  Has he cried since his friends were killed? Marija thought back. Has he cried since his father disappeared?

  “I can take you as far as the Jaglici road,” Jac said. “You can go north from there. The Serbs haven’t been seen on that road. It’s possible they don’t know where the men have gone yet.”

  “But I promised Tata I would take care of my mother and my sister,” Atif said, shaking his head. “I can’t leave them.”

  “They can get on the bus, Atif. I’ll make sure they do and, if I can, I’ll ride the bus with them.”

  “But you don’t even know if they’re letting the buses through.”

  “They are,” said a breathless voice from behind. Maarten was back with a bag and a pair of boots. “I just spoke to our sergeant. He said the first bus arrived in Tisca. They’re being allowed to cross over and should be in Tuzla in a few hours.”

  “You see,” Marija said, raising her hand to Atif’s face. “We’ll be all right. We have to think about you now. You have to go.”

  “No. I can’t go. Tata told me to take care of you.”

  “He’s not here, Atif. I am. We can take care of ourselves now.”

  “No. You need me.”

  “We don’t need you. We’ll be fine. If you want to take care of us, you need to start by taking care of yourself.”

  “I can’t do it by myself, Mama.”

  “You won’t be alone. You know the way to Susnjari. You’ve been there with your father several times. You’ll find the men there and they will take you to Tuzla.”

  “But what if….” he started. “What if….”

  She took his hands.

  Warm, sticky. Trembling.

  “Please, Atif. Do this for me.”

  Atif’s eyes wandered. His mouth tried to form words.

  “Your father taught you how to take care of yourself. You’re smart. You’ll know what to do. You just have to try.”

  “But Tata always said we should think before we act. We need to think about this. We’re acting too fast.”

  She rubbed his hands between hers.

  “Some things don’t require a lot of thought, Atif. There are times when we just need to act.”

  He looked away. Ina touched his shoulder. The twins watched, wide-eyed. Tihana sat in Lejla’s lap, scratching off the faded blue paint from the toy soldier’s helmet.

  “We’ll be okay, Atif,” Adila said. “You should do this.”

  Atif looked his mother in the eyes. “Are you sure, Mama?”

  No, I’m not, my dear, dear child.

  “Yes,” she said, holding his gaze. “I am.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Mama.”

  His mother took him into her arms and held him tight.

  “Yes, you do,” she whispered into his ear. “You need to do this. Catch up to the men. They’ll take care of you.”

  She kissed him on the forehead and pulled back. He looked at her, dropped his head, and drew a long breath. Then he turned to Jac.

  “You’ll keep an eye on them?”

  “Yes, I will. I promise.”

  “Then what do I do now?”

  Jac handed Marija the pair of boots.

  “They’re a bit big, but they’re better than what he has on.”

  Atif stripped off the ragged sneakers. Marija untied the laces and handed the boots to her son. He found wool socks inside.

  “Use them,” Jac said. “They’ll absorb the sweat.”

  Atif pulled on the socks and then the boots. Maarten knelt next to the twins and pointed to Atif’s bag. They passed it to their mother who took the remaining carrots out, leaving the bottle of water. Maarten added several ration packs, a green shirt, and another two-litre bottle of water.

  “
You can refill the bottles in the rivers,” Maarten told Atif. “With all the rain we’ve gotten lately, you shouldn’t have a problem finding enough water.”

  Marija stood up and moved a few feet away from the group while the two peacekeepers prepared her son. She crossed her arms, tucking her hands underneath and holding them tight against her body. Another gunshot echoed from behind the factories. A shudder rippled through her body.

  What if they had taken him? Could that shot have been for Atif?

  Jac passed the pack to Atif and he looked inside.

  “There are some ration packs in there. They’ll last a few days or more if you’re careful. You can put on the green shirt once you’re in the woods.” Jac smiled and pointed to the neon yellow A-Team t-shirt Atif wore. “They’ll see you in Belgrade with that on.”

  The peacekeepers stood up. Atif stared up at them.

  This is it, Marija thought, biting her lip.

  “Say good-bye to your sister,” she said.

  Atif turned; Tihana was playing with the toy soldier. He reached into his pack and pulled out another toy soldier.

  “Tell you what. Since I’m not going to be around, I’ll leave an infantryman here to help the machine gunner.” He gave her the soldier. “Keep them with you. And when you get to Tuzla, put them on a window sill so they can watch over you. Okay?”

  Tihana nodded and introduced the two soldiers to each other.

  Atif leaned back. Adila rubbed his arm and Lejla kissed his cheek. His face flushed.

  “We’ll see you in Tuzla.”

  Ina laid an arm over his shoulder and squeezed.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” she said.

  “I know.”

  Marija’s mind raced.

  Does he have enough? Is there anything else?

  She looked at her bag.

  The salt.

  Marija’s hand reached into her bag and pulled out the small plastic bag of salt. Atif stood and she held it out to him.

  “You should take this, too.”

  He pushed it away. “No, Mama. That’s all you have left.”

  “We might be in Tuzla by tonight. You’ll need it more than we will.” She stuffed the bag into his front pocket. “Keep it in your pocket so you won’t spill it. If you run out of food, you only need a little each day to keep your head clear. You know what to do with it.”

  “Yes, Mama,” he said, choking on the words.

  Marija wrapped her arms around him.

  “You’ll be okay. You’re strong and smart. You’ll get through this and we’ll be waiting for you in Tuzla. You know where your uncle Vlatko lives, right?”

  Atif nodded against her head.

  “I spoke to him on the shortwave a few weeks ago. He hasn’t moved. So I’ll be at his house waiting for you. I won’t leave until you walk out of the woods. I promise you. I won’t leave, okay?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Marija could feel his heart beating like a hammer. She pulled back and stared straight into his eyes.

  He’s going to be tall. Like his father.

  “I love you,” she said, willing the tears not to come. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  Atif dropped his head on her shoulder.

  “I love you too, Mama.”

  Marija fought the emotion in her chest that was threatening to crush it and willed her feet to step away from Atif. She put her hands on his shoulder and turned him towards Jac.

  “Go. Go before it’s too late.”

  Go before I change my mind.

  Jac picked up the pack and laid a hand on Atif’s shoulder. They walked away with Maarten a few steps behind them.

  Atif looked back twice and waved. The trio melted into the crowd.

  When she was certain Atif was well out of sight, Marija collapsed next to Ina and sobbed.

  WEDNESDAY: ATIF STAVIC

  ATIF MOVED THROUGH the crowd in a fog.

  Everything is going too fast, he thought. But it must be okay. Mama wouldn’t let me go if she didn’t think I would be safer in the woods.

  Now he understood why so many boys had turned off the main road with their fathers and brothers the day before. They didn’t trust the Dutch to protect them.

  Walking between Jac and Maarten, Atif watched the Serbs move among the refugees. Few gave them a second glance. The carriers blocking the end of the road came into view. Jac, Maarten, and Atif passed between them and turned right onto a street parallel to the Jaglici road.

  The street was lined with homes, their lawns covered with garbage. A man stepped from a house carrying a sack over his shoulder. He stopped and stared at the peacekeepers. Atif looked back over his shoulder. The man had moved on to the next house. When they got near the end of the street, Jac glanced behind him. Then he pointed at the last house on the left. Maarten posted himself in front of the house and Atif followed Jac into the trees behind it.

  Atif’s head began to spin and he slowed.

  This is a dream. He touched a tree. The sap came back sticky.

  “Can I sit down for a minute?”

  Jac looked back at him and nodded.

  “Yeah, this should be close enough.”

  Atif dropped to the ground. A bottle of water appeared in front of him.

  “You’re flushed. You okay?”

  Atif drank some water and returned the bottle to Jac.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Korporaal Jac.”

  The peacekeeper sat down next to him and pulled his field pad from his side pocket. He took out a pen and a folded map.

  “Do you want to go back with your mother?”

  Atif felt a sudden sharp jab in the pit of his stomach.

  “Maybe.”

  But he couldn’t go back. He was too tall and the bit of fuzz on his chin that he was so proud of only made him look older. When he’d tried to join the army, he made the mistake of telling them his age. If he had lied, they would have believed he was sixteen.

  Now I might really have to fight, he thought, fidgeting with his sticky fingers.

  “I wouldn’t have suggested this to your mother if I didn’t think you were capable,” Jac said, opening up the map. “I know you are. As far as I’m concerned, you could out-soldier some of our own guys.”

  “Yeah?”

  “No doubt in my mind. Look what you’ve put up with for the last three years. Constant shelling and sniping, starvation, your father.” Jac paused. “You still function like any teenage boy I know.” He tapped Atif on the head. “You’re strong. Up there. That’s what will get you to Tuzla.”

  Jac tore away a section of the map with Susnjari at the bottom and the outskirts of Tuzla at the top. He drew a few lines on it.

  “You’ve been up in the hills with your father, so you know about some of the minefields.”

  Atif nodded, his mind flashing back a year.

  “You can come,” his father had said. He’d dropped a packed bag at Atif’s feet. “I’ll take you as far as the minefields and lead the others into Kravica. I’ll bring the food to you and go back for more.”

  “Why now?” Atif had replied.

  “You’re bigger now. You can handle the walk and the load.”

  Then why didn’t you take me with you last month, he’d thought. What has changed?

  His father had looked at Atif as though he were reading his mind.

  “I think it’s important that you get to know the woods.”

  Know the woods.

  His father had foreseen the end of the safe area. Just as he had foreseen everything else.

  Mama is right. I have to leave.

  “The men will have made a path through the minefields.”

  Jac’s words brought Atif b
ack to the present.

  “They shouldn’t be hard to follow,” the peacekeeper said. “Thousands of footsteps will have left you a clear path across.”

  Atif turned his attention to the map. Jac pointed out the road that ran north from Bratunac then west. It encircled the area Atif had to walk through like a horseshoe.

  “This road is going to be the biggest hurdle,” Jac said. “My guess is they’ll start to patrol it very soon. You’ll have to cross it at night. But I have no doubt you’ll catch up with the men long before that. Once you’re across the road, you need to keep going north by northwest and you’ll eventually cross the front lines. You’ll probably do most of your travelling at night.”

  “What if I don’t catch up to them? How will I know which way to go at night?”

  Jac licked his lips and stared straight ahead for a few moments.

  “The moon,” he said with a quick smile. “There’s a full moon tonight. It’s in the southern sky. It rises in the southeast and sets in the southwest. It should be visible for the next few nights. You just have to keep it at your back.”

  “That easy?”

  “Yeah. I wish I had a compass or pocket knife to give you, but I lost it all at the observation post.” He raised a finger. “Don’t forget that a full moon can light up the countryside. It’ll be easy to see movement.”

  Atif nodded. He had rations, clothes, water, directions, and now a hint of confidence.

  Jac wrote something on the back of the map, folded it, and poked it in the outside pocket of Atif’s pack.

  “I wrote my address on the map. I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be here or where they’ll send us, so I may not be in Tuzla when you get there. I’d like it if you would send me a postcard.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that. I promise.”

  “Last night the men moved through Jaglici to Susnjari. They’re going to wait there for a while before proceeding. Now, the Serbs can see part of the road, so you might want to hug the treeline and rivers between here and Susnjari. I’m guessing you know which parts are safe.”

  Atif nodded.

  “You’re going to come across others walking back. They’ll try to convince you to turn around. But whatever you do, keep going. You know what’s waiting for you here.”