Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Pop Vasil did not stay with the men in front of the church. Exhausted, he returned home. He took off his frock, went down to the cold storage room and came back holding a box. He opened the cupboard, felt in the corner and took out a key. He unlocked the box. He took out a book and dusted it off with a cloth and, after putting it on his knees, turned it over and opened the last page. With the pencil that was tied to its wooden cover, he wrote:

“One thousand nine hundred and forty eighth summer of our Lord, March, twenty fifth day. Fifty four children and three women left in the afternoon. At sunset they entered Albania. Only the children under two years old have remained in the village…”

His eyelashes dropped, he felt shaky, he shivered, a tear drop formed in his eye. He felt tightness and pain in his chest.

Pop Vasil put the pencil down, opened the book, turned its pages, read to himself while whispering one thing after another:

“Pass, pass my people, go into the dark rooms for a moment, until the anger passes... and you, heavens, listen, and you earth, open your ears... the children have left and the place is crying… the homes are desolate and the hearts are empty... the birds are no more and their joyful shouts have dried up... the meadows will mourn and the vines will wither… people will drink their wine with tears... o, tortured earth, o, dispersed whirlwind, without comfort you are left...”

Pop Vasil continued to flip the pages in the Holy book and with them unfinished thoughts... He closed the Bible, leaned his elbows on it and put his forehead on his hands. He felt sadness, bitterness and torment...