A Covenant of Poppies

Chapter 33

The morning after the attack I was immersed in the fantasy of tossing Para body parts into the Sava when the blaring roar of an airplane knocked me from the chair. I arose and isolated the source of the intrusion, a plastic monstrosity imprinted with the words: "Beograd Continental Hotel." This label referred to the fancy hotel across the river, not the roach lodge I was currently entombed in. The archaic instrument must have been left on my night table the night before, I thought, noting that it was attached to a cord leading under the door. My new phone exploded with a shrill clatter and I grasped the receiver in alarm.

"Tsara somebody headed straight for your door," Chika said from the other end. "Do you need protection?" Chika was referring to my run-in with the Paras the night before, after which he'd found me face down in front of my door calling for my mommy. He’d immediately summoned the local doctor. As Doctor Vajilsic saw to my wounds Chika watched on in deathly fright. Chika had begun to feel responsible for me, I realized. The doctor pronounced my injuries non life-threatening, and as Chika gently clapped by back with a smile, the warning from the Para with the white-blonde hair rang in my ears. "Get out of Belgrade, Amerikan."

Before I could answer Chika on the phone, the Tsarina had stormed into my room. She stomped in and gave me the once over. "Are you all right, Amerikan?" She lit a cigarette without waiting for an answer and said, "You're don't look too good," while dropping into the chair. She then pronounced, "You were right."

"Right about what?" I asked, lowering myself to the bed.

"We dummies have to learn how to differentiate truth from lies, that's what." She pondered my bruised face. "You ticked someone off telling them that, didn't you?"

"I said you shouldn't be complicit in your government's falsehoods," I corrected.

"You said to take a stand for democracy, and a bunch of other BS. Well, you've got your wish." She arose and began to pace, taking  the room in three long strides, and turning.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, on alert.

She stopped and glared at me, cigarette smoke trailing from her lips. "Not thinking, Amerikan. Putting dinars where our mouths are." She stepped forward to gauge my reaction. "We are starting what you suggested. A revolt."            

A sickening lick of excitement crept up my spine.

"Come with us and meet the opposition," she said. "Be on the front line with us. Fight with us."

I said, "Of course I will," and clicked on my recorder.

Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Because there are enemies, other than the official parties who want us quiet." She stepped closer and blasted me with tobacco as she said, "You want our story, don’t you? That’s what you really want, isn’t it?"

"Of course. that's what I want," I whispered back. The story was everything.

"Then protect us with your words. Follow us as we protest. Stand by us as we make noise. Speak our names if we-- disappear." There was a frightening gleam in her eyes as she added, "Join us on our adventure. But no matter what use your power and help us. Okay, Amerikan?"

"Okay," I said. "I promise."

Her accusing glance darted to my unmade bed and I stepped back, unwilling to volunteer any information. She gripped my forearm with icy fingers and said, "There is something else."  The kohl under her eyes was smudged, I saw. The pores of her skin were too large, and a pointed black hair protruded from one nostril. "Amerikan, there are girls who use men for things. Like money, clothing…visas." I pulled my arm away but she jerked it back, saying, "There are girls like that here."

"There are girls like that everywhere," I responded with an icy glare.

"Not like  this one."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"Do you really want to be used? Jelena Dusan leaves a string of men that could fill up the Sava. Getting involved with her is like having a steel spike driven through your brain." She added, "For God's sake, Amerikan. She’s in bed with the Paras! She’s their spy." She shoved a wad of photographs in my direction. Evidence.

Do not look at those photos, I told myself.

I froze in place. Tsara waited a second then dropped the packet on my bed. She waited some more then moved to the door and stopped. "Amerikan, you're too valuable to us now." The door slammed behind her. No way are you going to look at those photos, I repeated to myself.

The images would be damning, I knew. I would be unable to rationalize them away. I would undoubtedly need to spend a night at the taverna afterwards washing the memory of them away. I turned and stepped away from the bed. Then, I turned back. A moment later the photos were sailing through the open window and I was slamming the window shut behind them. I'd braced myself to see the woman I'd pledged my love to in carnal intimacy with some other man. Maybe she'd been with multiple men. So what? I'd thought. What I hadn't braced myself for was the sight of her in the embrace of the Para who'd tried to kill me.

The animal’s cold bleak eyes stared up at me as they rose on a gust of wind then serpentined down to the street.