"I still can't believe it, Mark.. I never knew you were that stupid.." Doug muttered as they shuffled down the gravel roads, their cheap canvas shoes no match for the hard packed dirt that pounded their aching feet and stones that somehow squirreled themselves inside, and gave them crippling limps.
"Stupid?? If it was so stupid, then why didn't YOU see the little blinking damn light? You were in the front seat too! You had full view of the dash.. If anyone's stupid.. It's you Doug.."
Elizabeth and Carol walked between the two men, acting as a buffer for their childish arguing. Elizabeth swatted the hands that crossed the barrier and grumbled vexatiously. "Stop it.. Stop it or I'll break your fingers.."
It was ten miles of vast farmer's fields on the single route of dirt before they saw another living soul.
"Zdravo! Kako ste?" The pick-up truck pulled along side the weary road-travellers and the window roll down slightly. A weathered, leathery face peered out from the rusted, dusty truck cab, and smiled toothlessly.
Luka looked up tiredly, his nose and face throbbing. "Da??" He blinked in the blinding sunlight and nodded. "Dobro havla, a vi?"
His colleagues looked at him confused and Luka sighed. "He asked if we were okay.. I said we were fine.."
Abby smacked him again with her purse. "FINE!? FINE!? DOES IT LOOK LIKE WE'RE FINE?!" She growled at him angrily. "Ask him where we are and how do we get to your uncle's damn farm!?"
Luka winced and turned back to the farmer who was interested in this foreign woman's sudden outburst. She sure was a tasty little thing. "Je li ovo put za Drzislav?"
The farmer grinned, his toothless gums loose and pink. A wrinkled, decrepit hand emerged from the window and pointed down the road. "Dite ravno. Skrenite lijevo, ulica lijevo."
Dave's brow furrowed and he looked down the road. "What did he say? All I see is dirt.."
He looked at the dishevelled, filthy people and sighed. "Govorite li engleski?"
Luka nodded readily. "Yes.. We speak english.. Dave.. He said, we keep going down the road and turn left and then it's the first road on the left.."
The farmer nodded. "Da... That's right.." The old man replied, with a thick serbian accent. "You need vozite?"
Luka looked in the back of the man's truck, filthy, bits of straw and dried manure. He rocked back and forth on his sore, blister covered feet and nodded. "Yes, a drive would be good. Jako ste ljubazni. Hvala lijepa." He smiled and climbed into the back of the truck.
"Get in please.. He has offered us a drive to my uncle's farm.. Unless you prefer to walk. The directions he's given.. It's about twelve miles.. Walk if you want, but my feet hurt, and I'm going."
Slowly, the group glanced at each other, more humble, sore, exhausted and jet-lagged than they had before they'd walked ten miles in the scorching sun.
"Luka?? Are you sure he's trustworthy? I mean.. The guy has a rather large pig in his truck, it looks like something out of Deliverance.." Kerry stared at the hog which snorted at her and fell on its side, blinking his great dull eyes before it started to snore and grunt in its sleep.
"You can sit up here with me Miss.." The farmer patted the space between him and the pig.
Kerry bit her lip and looked back in the trailer where her colleagues sat in animal feces and straw. Animal poo, straw and sweaty doctors? Or smelly farmer and his pet pig??
She climbed in between Dave and Benton and the farmer put the truck into gear, and it shuddered down the road, spewing up clouds of dust and exhaust.
The doctors lay back, resting their aching muscles and trying to brace themselves for the hundreds of potholes and rocks that jostled and shook the rickety, rusting truck.
Elizabeth held on to Mark, burying her face into his dusty shirt. This truck was 98% rust and manure, and 2% truck.. She'd be very glad when this ride was over, maybe walking wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.
***
The farmer's truck pulled up to a long lane and he parked. "Theese is Drzislav farm.. You get out here.."
The doctors piled out of the truck, smellier and sorer than they had been twelve miles ago. The truck rattled away leaving them standing in front of a rather large wooden gate. The once grand, brightly painted sign, hung cock-eyed and peeling of it's once brilliant reds and yellows of the sunrise. ROT IN SUNRISE. The sign stammered, letters fallen and rotted on the roadside.
"This is the farm?? It looks like Manor farm.. You know.. After the animals had run off Mr.Jones.." Dave muttered, much to the surprise of his co-workers.. They never figured him much for a George Orwell fan.
"What Dave?" Carol said surprised, her eyebrows raised.
"A...nim..al... Faarrrrrm..." Dave said slowly. "It... is.. a... boooooook." He rolled his eyes, and entered the gate leaving the doctors standing there astonished and a trifle embarrassed.
They trudged up the lane to the house which was in slightly better shape than the sign out front.
"Wow.... This.. This is great Luka.. It's really nice.." Abby said in a hushed tone, walking from room to room.
"She's right Kovac.. This is a nice little place.. It needs a little work, but I'm up to it if the rest of the gang is.. What do you think??" Benton gave a low whistle and ran a hand along the roughly plastered walls.
"Well, there's nothing else to do.." Carter said glumly, turning the dial on the tv and finding nothing but fuzz and white noise. "What do you want us to do, Luka??"
"I... Well.. I guess the first thing to do is feed those poor animals in the barn and shovel out their stalls. But I think.. There IS ten of us.. Why don't we split up?? Five of us in here, cleaning up, and four of you, including myself, in the barn. That way, Carter and Dave can recover from their injuries and I can show the rest of you how to run a farm." Luka chuckled slightly, and trailed off into a low sobbing moan.
"You okay Luka??" Kerry asked worriedly. "We can do this.. Maybe you should stay in here with Dave and Carter, Abby and I can stay and help.. I don't think I'd be much help, cleaning out stalls."
Luka nodded glumly, looking around the foyer of his uncle's house. "If you're sure Kerry.. Okay.. Peter, Mark, Doug, Carol.. Elizabeth.. The shovels and pitchforks are in the shed.. The gutter cleaner is pretty much self-explanatory. Just shovel all the feces into the gutter and turn it on.. It'll move it out into the barnyard.. Then you can feed the animals.."
They nodded, filing out of the house and into the blinding sunlight, ready for a day's work.
********
"Abby, take Dave into town. Get some painting and plaster supplies. Three hundred dinar should cover it." Luka said absently, fishing some bills from his wallet.
The group watched his expression change as his gaze rested on the pictures of his wife and daughter. His hands trembled, the money fluttering from his splayed fingers and onto the worn hardwood floor.
"Luka, go with Abby. The rest of us can stay here and clean up, make some lunch for our 'farm hands'." Kerry smiled, and squeezed his hand comfortingly, before stooping and picking up the money, putting it into his hand and folding his fingers over it.
"If you're sure you can handle it by yourselves." Luka replied shakily. "I guess it's best that I escort Abby, just in case the shop keeper does not speak english."
"As for making lunch, I have a feeling that my uncle's icebox would be empty. I will get groceries too." Luka rifled through his billfold to see if he'd exchanged enough dollars to dinar to cover everything.
Abby and Luka walked to the rusted FORD pick-up and after a few dry starts the engine turned over.
"Are you okay Luka?" She snuggled against his rigid form as they puttered down the dirt road. Luka shrugged, ignoring her and turning on the radio.
"-if you make sure you're connected, the writing's on the wall. But if your mind's neglected, stumble you might fall.. Stumble you might fall. Stumble you might fall..." He sighed.
"Stereo MC.. That is an old song..." Luka murmured. "I don't want to talk about that Abby.. Not now." He muttered angrily, the memories, the ache and the guilt boiling inside him like an infected wound.
"I'm sorry about Daniejla, Luka.." Abby said softly.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Abby. You did not kill them, I did. I watched them die, I did not help. If I had taken her to a hospital. She would be alive." Luka said hoarsely as they drove to the market square.
"She would be alive and you would be with her." Abby swallowed pained, and stared out the window.
"Yes.. That is true. She was my wife, it is likely that I'd be with her. But that does not matter now. I am with you." Luka opened his wallet and stared at the faded photograph, torn and wrinkled from so many nights of being held in the hand of it's owner, comforting him in fitful nights of loneliness.
He removed it from it's plastic and stared at it before Luka took it in his fingers and ripped it in two. His large muscled frame collapsed against the steering wheel as he began to sob.
Abby stared at him, uncertain, before he lifted his great shaggy head from his folded arms and stared at her with swollen, red eyes. "I loved her. I loved her so much, that I love her still. Is it wrong to love her still, even though she's gone?"
With tender fingers she took the photograph from him and attempted to piece it back together. "Luka.. I know you loved her... She was your wife.. It wasn't like Richard and I.. Our separation was needed.. Wanted.. You and Danijela.. That wasn't planned.. It's normal for you to still love her.." Abby smoothed it out, staring sadly at the beautiful woman that stared at her beneath deep creases and folds.. From under the rippled, tear stained picture, her eyes still twinkled and Abby knew then that she'd never be able to measure up and be Danijela.. She could never be Danijela, all she could hope was that Luka would want Abby.. For who she was and not who she could be.
Abby carefully placed the torn photograph in her purse and unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the truck.
Luka handed her a fistful of bills. "G-go to the trzhnica.. Get some food.. Bread, milk, peanut butter, the usual staples.. I will be at the hardware store.. Some basic phrases Abby.. Da, is yes, ne is no.. Molim is please.. If all else fails, try 'Govorite li engleski?' 'Do you speak english?' Most people around here do. Okay?"
Abby nodded slowly, her fingers curling protectively around Daniela's picture. "Trzhnica?"
"Market.. The little grocery store over there.." Luka pointed to the rebuilt shop.
"Okay, no problem Luka.. Want me to get you anything special?" She smiled softly, kissing his forehead between his sad eyes.
"No... Nothing I can think of, thank you for asking." Luka smiled, the cheery expression, not quite reaching his troubled, deep, dark, eyes. He turned away from her, trudging to the hardware store, breathing deep the smells and the dust of his home country. It was scientifically proven that dust was made of skincells and other human debris.. As Luka breathed in, he wondered how much dried blood of his fellow countrymen, wives and children entered his lungs from the air that was vital for his living.
He shuddered, shaking his head sadly before he pawed the door open with a heavy hand. "Dragi Josip.." Luka nodded to the clerk, saying hello as he browsed through the shelves.
The clerk stared at him, he was familiar but it was obvious how he walked, his gait, that something troubled him deeply. Something the man, sooner forget, even though it haunted him greatly. The customer in his shop had returned from some place far away and he could tell Luka wasn't home on pleasure.
"Kako se zovete?" The man shouted to Luka, as the doctor stooped on his heels to reach a can of paint on the lower shelves. Luka looked up, started by the man's question, and banged his head on the shelve above.
"Zovem se, Luka Kovac..." Luka mumbled softly, returning to his shopping, aware that the clerk was staring intently at him now.
"Kovac.. Danijela Kovac?" The man murmured softly, emerging from behind his counter and walking to the shelves to help Luka pull an aluminum ladder off the wall.
"Danijela was my wife.." Luka whispered hoarsely.
The man nodded. "Danijela was my daughter.."
****************