Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“If the teacher hadn’t come here, there would have been no need to open the school and our children would have not been killed…” people were saying throughout the village. When the teacher first heard of this he did not pay attention to it and avoided talking about it. But then, when it started coming from the dead children’s closest relatives, he began to worry. He began to feel the weight of the evil glances, the whispers and being rudely interrupted in conversations. Now he was preoccupied with it. He often locked himself in his room and begged Giorgi and Giorgevitsa to leave him alone so that he could rest because he felt very tired and exhausted.

At first Giorgi thought it was the separation from his loved ones and the uncertainty of their safety and well-being that was overwhelming Kole. Then one day when Kole did not finish his dinner, Giorgi asked him: “Kole, son, is something troubling you…? Did you receive bad news from home? Talk to Kuze, he will give you some time off. Go home and see your relatives… Or is it difficult for you being here with us? I have watched you now for some time… you are not in a good mood anymore. You don’t smile like you did before.”

Kole lifted his eyes and looked into Giorgi’s worried face.

“Uncle Giorgi, I want you to know that it is very hard for me. Before I went on the course in Zhelevo to become a teacher, I fought in many battles and I saw many wounded and dead. At first I was afraid, I even dreamt about them at night, but then somehow I became hard... and now...” he suddenly stopped talking and silently stared into the fire.

“What’s bothering you, Kole?” asked Giorgi.

“You know what, Uncle Giorgi, I am thinking of leaving...” said Kole in a sad voice.

“Leaving? Why? Where will you be going? You don’t like it here, with us… in this house?” asked Giorgi.

“No, no, don’t misunderstand me, everything is fine here with you but, well, it’s the bad talk... They say I am guilty of...” said Kole.

“What you are guilty of, what Kole?” asked Giorgi.

“I feel like leaving all this behind and going back to my unit...” replied Kole.

At that very moment Giorgevitsa, with hands all white from flour, entered the room, turned to Giorgi and said: “Giorgi, Giorgi, go and see who is knocking on the door?”

“Just a minute, Kole, I will go and see who it is and what they want and I will be right back,” replied Giorgi and went to the door.

When Giorgi returned he was accompanied by Pop Vasil and old man Mitre and they all went back to the room where the teacher was.

“Ah, good evening teacher…” said Pop Vasil with a smile on his face and shook the teacher’s hand. “I did not know you were here. I thought you had gone somewhere with Lazo, that’s why I took the opportunity to visit Giorgi and on the way I met Mitre and here we both are. How are you? Are you well? What are you so sullen about?” asked Pop Vasil.

Mitre knocked on Pop Vasil’s frock and said: “Move over so that I too can greet the young teacher… Are you okay, young man? I haven’t seen you nowadays taking strolls in the village square… Are you angry at us…? Why?” asked old man Mitre.

“He says he is very tired…” interjected Giorgi. “I advised him to go home, visit his family and come back. ‘And I will tell you this and I want you to remember it.’ Giorgi said to the teacher, ‘the Greek teachers lived here with us for a whole year without seeing their relatives’. Isn’t that right, Mitre?”

“Yes, that’s how it was; they could not leave the village without permission; like they were soldiers. They visited from house to

house and spoke with people more often… in Greek of course,” replied Mitre.

Giorgi interrupted them and asked them to sit down. Mitre continued: “The Greek teachers were told: ‘You are to be with the people at all times and as such they will be afraid to speak in their native language and will be forced to learn to speak Greek.’…”

The footsteps of a horse were heard outside on the cobblestone road followed by a voice calling: “Is this Giorgi’s house and is the teacher staying here?”

The man got off his horse. He was armed. After entering the house he asked: “Is the teacher here?”

“Yes, I am the teacher,” answered Kole and went in front of the man.

“I am one of Shiperkov’s couriers. Shiperkov sent me to bring you this letter,” said the man and then opened his leather pouch, took out a white envelope, gave it to him and said: “Shiperkov instructed me not to wait for a response. Goodbye!” and was about to leave.

“Is that it, young man?” interrupted Mitre. “You drop off a letter and goodbye you’re gone? Sit down; spend a minute or two with us. Take a break… How is Shiperkov, how are the men? How are our boys and girls doing up there?”

Giorgi, who for a short time had gone out, returned and was holding something wrapped in his hands. He said: “Take this…” to the courier.

“What is it?” asked the courier.

“Take it, take it... it’s some bread and cheese... you can eat it on your way… but if you decide to stay and eat with us you can give it to someone else...” said Giorgevitsa sobbing and then asked: “Did you happen to know anyone named Vasil?”

“Vasil?” the courier wondered out loud. “Vasil? We have several men that go by that name... Where is he from?” he asked.

“From here... he is my son,” explained Giorgevitsa. “Please ask around and if you do find him, tell him that his father and I are well. Ask him to write us a letter or…” Giorgevitsa broke out crying and then wiped her tears with the corner of her black head kerchief. The courier thanked her, said goodbye and went out. Right after that the rumble of horse hooves were heard on the village cobblestone road.

Pop Vasil turned to Kole and said: “Do you remember me asking that I wanted to see you and have a conversation with you? Well we haven’t done that yet… I know, I know you did not have the time. Your work as a teacher is very important… time consuming. But please let us make the time and get together for that talk. Now let me ask you: ‘There on the course, did they teach you how to read very old church books?’…”

“No Pop Vasil,” replied Kole. “The first thing we learned there, above all, was our alphabet, a little Macedonian history and geography... some stories and some songs... How much can one learn in twenty days?”

“In other words you learned az, buki, vedi… right?” asked Pop Vasil.

“I don’t think so…” replied Kole.

“What?” asked Pop Vasil surprised.

“This is what we learned: a, b, v...” replied Kole.

“You were taught quickly... I was taught like this: az, buki, vedi, glagoli… That is why I wanted to talk with you... and other things too... I will teach you something you will teach me something... if you want...” said Pop Vasil.

Mitre, whose tongue was getting itchy and who was burning with curiosity, wanted to ask Kole what the letter from Shiperkov was about. It must have been something very important for Shiperkov to

send him a letter by courier from so far way. With his cane Mitre hit the floor to get Kole’s attention and then pointed at the white envelope and said: “When are you going to read the letter, Kole?”

Kole opened the envelope, went closer to the lamp and read to himself. He first blushed and then began to cover his face. Mitre noticed this and asked: “Is it bad news?”

“I did not expect this…” said Kole quietly and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Mitre came closer and patted him on the back. “Hey, don’t worry about it…” he said in an attempt to cheer him up, “all commanders are like that… Their day does not pass if they don’t yell at someone or have a fight with someone… What did your commander say? Will you tell us?”

Kole opened the sheet of paper, put it closer to the lamp, turned around, looked at Pop Vasil first, then Mitre and then Giorgi, who he noticed had sparkling moisture in his eye, and said: “I have nothing to hide. Here’s what my commander wrote me:

‘Your letter has reached me. And so that you don’t forget what you wrote me, I will repeat your words. You said: “I do not feel brave enough Commander, especially after they killed the children. Some people whisper and they defile with their whispers. But let us skip over that. The thing that torments me the most and discourages me from doing my job are the countless questions from the students and from their parents. So many questions and so very few answers. I feel like tossing the chalk and the primers and returning to my unit...” This is what you said and my answer to you Kole is: “Remember and never forget this, not even for a moment, you are in a far more forward position than the front line. You hold one of the largest bunkers and have one of the most powerful weapons. You need to be bold, solid and above all clever and good with the children and the people. Kole, you are asking me this: “Commander, if I come back to my unit, will you scold me in front of the fighters?” Here’s my answer: “Kole, I will not scold you in front of the fighters but I will execute you like a deserter”...’

Kole took the letter away from the lamp and whispered: “There is no more… That’s all the commander wrote…”

There was a long silence. Then Mitre interrupted: “I swear to you, nobody could have written you a better letter…” he said.

There was long tedious silence. It was only interrupted by the crackling of the firewood burning in the fireplace. They all stood there and no one dared move. The flame of the lamp was slowly diminishing and darkness began to cover the room. The tiny flame flickered and trembled...

“Maybe it’s running out of gas…” Pop Vasil quietly remarked as he kept staring at it. “Take a look at it, Giorgi, does it have kerosene?” added the priest.

Giorgi raised the lamp to eye level. The wick was curled inside it like a snake lying on the bottom. He shook it, it was empty. The flame was sucking out the last drops of kerosene and spreading its diminishing light throughout the room...