In the meantime, she and Mira became even closer.
Mira was ever so happy for her little sister, especially since she could see that this new love came as a saviour for Lucille.
“I used to think: I wish Lucille was older, so we could discuss things between us in order to survive what is going on in our family,” Mira confessed. “But now, at this stage, the age difference seems so small, don’t you think?”
“Well, we are mature women now!” Lucille chuckled. “We simply have more in common as grown-ups. It took time for me to grow up, and there were times when I considered myself ever so grown up, even though it was only in my Lucille-style imagination. Pepper used to think that I was a grown-up. Or did he?” Now they really burst into uncontrollable laughter. Mira was much too reserved, until she married Mat. Once she went to live at the Brunes’ home, she opened up some. She suddenly came out of her shell.
“You know, I feel safe with Mat. I used to worry about the outcome of our family, not being able to predict it. It really scared me.” Then, without saying it, she sighed and felt that a big load had been lifted from her shoulders. However, Lucille was quite aware of that load and understood it perfectly.
“You and Mat had an uneventful start together, but the two of you are blessed with love and plenty of common sense. You trust each other. Oh, how I hope that someday Mark and I will have the same connection, the same bond.” Mat’s parents had known Mira all her life and were happy to welcome her into their home. They were good to her, and in turn, Mira repaid them with kindness, especially once they became ill and unable to look after themselves. Lucille was always welcome in their home. And being separated only by the road, the two sisters lived more or less face to face.
It helped that Mira and Ivan liked Mark Zanton very much once he started coming around, but they were worried about Lucille in the event their relationship didn’t last. They knew that Lucille could get hurt and lapse into a depression if that happened. But Mark kept coming, slowly teaching Lucille how to relax and enjoy life. But then, he hadn’t had to carry the world on his shoulders the way she had had to for quite some time. He was young and free from any major problems when he first started seeing Lucille. He had a good head on his shoulders and a genuine smile that was quite infectious.
Lucille confided to Mira, “There is something about Mark that shows good standing and stability. He is confident but not pompous. He doesn’t feel that he has anything to prove to anyone. I am scared — but happy.”
CHAPTER NINE
The Zantons
MARK ZANTON’S BROTHER, MARTIN, on the other hand, enjoyed getting attention when in crowds. Martin was quite flamboyant and handsome, while Mark was more reserved, but just as handsome. His family was quite outgoing (sometimes even considered eccentric, except for his father), but had a good social life. Things were running smoothly, at least on the surface. His mother was forever preoccupied with her own creative projects. His sisters were different from one another. His brother was at war serving proudly. The two brothers could not have been more different from one another. Mark rather envied the closeness between Lucille and Mira, but had a good relationship with his father.
“As soon as the war is over, we should get married,” Mark was trying to broach the subject lightly. “Hopefully, that will be soon, for everybody’s sake.” There is always a magnitude of tension during any war, and everybody’s life is put on hold. Each day you worry that something bad is going to happen and you hope that it won’t. So you simply hang in there . . .
“Mark is worried about his brother, since things could change so quickly,” Lucille was telling Mira. “The good thing is that when you are in love, you tend to be in your own element and, war or no war, you look forward to seeing your loved one at any and every opportunity. Everything around you looks good because you are in love. “Going to work helps me. Even though I am not quite out of danger yet, food rationing doesn’t bother me. I don’t feel like eating anyway.”
“Now, Lucille, if Mark hears you talking like that he is not going to be impressed by you. You can’t live off love. Don’t let me hear you talking like that again!”
“Yes, ‘Mother’!” Lucille replied. “I was only joking. You promised me that you would not worry about me again. I am a big girl now and I can take care of myself. You just worry about you and Mat. And by the way, when are we going to hear any news about you expecting a little Brune?” Then she burst out laughing.
“Lucille, you must get serious for once,” Mira warned her. “Here I am, being totally serious, and you are joking.”
Martin Jr. was the oldest of the Zanton siblings. He, being the eldest, and a boy at that, was destined to take over the Zanton farm someday. Even as a child, he liked working with his father on the farm, especially with the horses. He was a very outgoing, stable child and, later, a hard-working young man. He was rather popular in the village with his peers, but not from trying; he simply projected the kind of energy that attracted the girls and elicited respect from his buddies. With the family circle always having parties, there were plenty of chances for dating, not only with the local girls but with those from other places as well. Not that he was serious with any of them for very long.
He and Monika, who was the Zantons’ second child, always got along well, and she was his best friend.
“You know, Monika, if you weren’t so bossy, I might take you out with me more often,” Martin snapped at her. “And every time Mother reprimands me, or tries to, you always have to put your opinion in there somewhere.” He privately found that very funny, but she was never to know about that.
Next was his sister Helena, who, unlike Monika, was very quiet. She was more of a homebody, but far from a loner. She was more laid-back.
“How come you never give Helena a hard time? You always pick on me,” Monika came back in her self-defence. “What is so special about her?”
“She does not boss me around like you — that is why. So you figure it out.”
Next came Magda, and that was a different story on its own. She was an actress, so to speak, and demanded attention left, right, and centre. No one was as good as she, and she listened to no one if she could help it. Were it not for her parents, there would have been no stopping her. She always preferred to find her own kind of group to associate with.
Mark was the baby of the family. He paid little attention to his sisters. He much preferred to imitate his brother, as often happens in large families.
“Monika, there is a dance going on in Gomilka. Are you coming with us?” Martin would shout.
“Who else is going?”
“You mean I don’t count, even though I am the one inviting you to come with me?”
“Of course you are important, but I don’t plan on dancing with you. I don’t understand you.”
“Oh, that is different. Sure, there are others going as well. Do you have anybody in particular in mind?”
“Yes! Is Boris going?”
“Monika, I am not your messenger; so are you going or not? I can easily go without you, so don’t worry about me. I will see you there, or not, it doesn’t matter.” Martin was by now wishing that she weren’t going. “You can’t please women no matter how you try.” And out the door he went, without looking back. And there were countless other occasions when they would go together or separately.
Eventually, Martin found himself a girl and started dating her quite seriously. They were quite an item and he had every intention of marrying her.
One day, Martin received a letter from National Defence that he was to report to them. He had been called to serve his country and he was proud to do so. His plans for the future had to be put on hold; he was given two weeks to settle his affairs and say his goodbyes.
“Father, I have to join the war! I just received a letter — here it is.” He showed the letter to his parents. With pri
de, as well as a heavy heart, his parents accepted the summons quietly.
Needless to say, Mother Zanton prepared a party for everyone to come and say goodbye to her son.
“We are very proud that Martin has been chosen as one of the local boys to go and serve in the war.” At the same time, it was hard to let him go. One never knows what the results could turn out to be. When something like this takes place, a feeling of terror creeps into people’s hearts as well as their lives.
Martin kept in touch quite regularly at first, sending letters from many different posts.
“I miss Martin more than I ever expected to,” Mark would say to Lucille. “There is a part of me missing.”
“The feeling is perfectly normal, Mark. I can’t imagine how your parents feel. Do they say much, or is it taboo to talk about Martin?” Lucille was trying to understand the lives of those left behind.
“Mother gets these hysterical spells, which I can understand perfectly. Father does a lot of walking around the place, feeling out of place himself. I am sure that it is the loneliness. He misses Martin more than any of us do, I am sure of that.”
At first, social activities were put on hold, but as time went by, they resumed; and every time there was a gathering, it was acknowledged how brave those boys were and how they were to be respected for serving their country. Mother always made sure that no one would forget Martin. “I wish to acknowledge that our boys are not as privileged as us to be here, having a good time, and we love them and wish them a safe return. Cheers to our boys!” And everybody would join in on that.
Mark told Lucille, “Martin wrote how atrocious it was in the winter and how they were wet and muddy; and hungry when the supplies failed to reach them. Food and medical supplies are scarce. They are either being confiscated by the enemy or being ambushed or blown up by enemy fire.” Lucille had a hard time listening to this. Mark confided in her, knowing that she would understand. She did, but she felt sad for all of them.
Then, one time, when Martin was stationed in the Carpathian Mountains, there was a lot of fighting, and communications with the families were cut off. They worried a lot. While Martin was going through these dreadful struggles, he had only one good buddy, Paul from Gradsko Selo, there with him to talk to and count on.
Then, during one of the most severe attacks, Martin was cut in half, right in front of his best buddy.
The two of them had had it in mind that, being from the same place and having been friends all their lives, they were indestructible. In this case, the one who survived the attack truly suffered more than the one who died instantly. Paul survived the war but never really got over the incident and often wished that he had died as well, because the vision of Martin’s death never left him.
So when the news of Martin’s death came and that he would not be coming home, the Zantons went to pieces. Everything came to a halt, and rightfully so. Their precious son, on whom they had depended to succeed them in the future . . . their firstborn son . . . was no longer alive. Mother Zanton was inconsolable and Father Zanton simply stared into the sky. “Why my Martin? What have we done to deserve this?”
They were unable to see him or even bury him, as he wasn’t going to be brought home.
Suddenly, all their wealth became meaningless. The poor parents completely lost any interest in the things that used to matter to them, even ignoring things that had to be looked after.
Father Zanton found himself talking to Martin out loud. “You were always the one who kept us in good spirits, even when we didn’t agree with you. Somehow, you always managed to win us back.”
Mark, who was the baby in the family, would now become the next heir.
“This can’t be happening! I thought I missed Martin when he was at war, but nothing like I miss him now. I had great hopes and plans for both of us. Oh, Lucille, what am I going to do now?” They both cried and felt totally lost. Things were supposed to be so different after Martin returned, and now this horrible tragedy had turned the lives of all of them upside down.
“Mark, I don’t know what to say to make it easier.”
“I told him in my letters about you but I wanted to wait till he came back to tell him about us getting married. So now I will never be able to spill my heart out to him about us and he will never get married himself. I just can’t believe that this is happening.”
Mark wanted to get away so he could cry without anybody seeing him so vulnerable. He had a place in his home and in his heart. That place was as the second son in the Zanton family — he was proud of it and happy that way. Now that whole structure had collapsed and would have to be rebuilt somehow.
“I hate seeing my parents being destroyed by this horrible tragedy. You should see everybody; no one knows what to do or what to say. It hits you like a ton of bricks.”
“Especially when there is nobody to cry over and no answers to any of the questions,” Lucille added. “There is no closure in cases like this. You must be patient with your parents, as they are the ones who are affected the most. No one should ever lose a child.”
There was a memorial for Martin Jr., and the outpouring of support was overwhelming. Many people knew the Zantons, as well as Martin personally. Their sadness was sincere, as many of those people had sons away at war. One never knew who might be next on the list of casualties . . . This insecurity was always present. Not having the body of the fallen soldier present at the funeral made it even harder, as in the case of Martin Zanton: His family was not able to say the final goodbye. Were it not for Paul, his buddy, who was severely injured in the incident and sent home to tell about it, the whole thing would have been even harder for everybody.
The war lasted another seven months after Martin was killed. The feeling of horror swept the family, and, as far as the Zantons were concerned, Martin would be missed forever.
Martin’s fiancée suffered with the family during the first and worst ordeal. She was well liked by the Zantons, and it was a long time before she started dating again. She often talked to Mark about Martin, and she was close friends with Mark and Lucille in later years. Mother Zanton often included her in family functions, but this made her feel uncomfortable, so she started declining the invitations. It was time to move forward and start a new life. That, she eventually did.
“Mother, are we going to have Martin’s name engraved in our stone?” Monika asked.
“Must you all talk of nothing but that?” Mother freaked out.
“Now, there is no need to get upset over a simple question.” Father Zanton attempted to calm things down as usual. He always had something good to say to everyone.
Mother was so preoccupied with her mission against Lucille that she had no time for reason. Furthermore, she was in denial about Martin Jr. and his ultimate departure. She was unwilling to accept it.
CHAPTER TEN
Monika
MONIKA, THE SECOND-OLDEST ZANTON SIBLING, married a neighbour’s boy named Boris.
Boris’s friends were amazed. “I don’t believe it! Boris, you are brave to marry one of the Zanton girls. Are you aware what you are getting yourself into?” This was the general comment shortly after Monika and Boris were engaged. On the one hand, it was an honour, but on the other hand, it was a challenge, to say the least. Everybody knew that the girls were selfish and spoiled.
“Don’t you guys worry. I paved my way through the back door of the house many years ago.”
Yes, “The House,” as everyone called it. It was named that way by the Zanton and Toblar boys, who were forever back and forth, giving Boris many opportunities getting to know Monika in her own easy environment, where she could express herself as she pleased.
“We will see,” some were saying.
Boris used to come to see the boys, but as soon as he decided to befriend Monika, he was really coming to see her. She was well aware of it. Soon, the feeling was mutual, and they
started dating seriously, much to her parents’ delight. They were quite surprised that he wasn’t intimidated by them, but happy. So when the young couple got engaged, they were pleased.
This certainly brought the painful memory of young Martin to the forefront, but the young couple were in no hurry to get married just yet. They were quite aware of the conflict they might cause if they rushed the wedding.
The Toblars lived near the village church, where Boris, and his father before him, were the church caretakers. Besides the general upkeep, there was another responsibility for them. It was the ringing of the church bells three times a day — at seven o’clock in the morning, at twelve noon, and at dusk — a tradition very symbolic in those days.
The village children usually played there, using the church as their playground. The parents could not possibly have a better place for their children to play. “Now remember, when Uncle Boris comes to ring the bells, it is time for you to leave and go home,” their mothers would say. The green grass around the church provided both comfort and safety, while the two-foot-deep and two-foot-high concrete wall provided a nice seating area. The children loved Uncle Boris. He had a limp, with him since birth. This was very much a part of his character. If he were ever to have it corrected, he would not be the same Uncle Boris to the kids. And as the kids are known to be smart, they often talked him into postponing the ringing just for a few minutes or so. Other times, he would let them help him ring the bells, and you could see them hanging from the ropes and having a marvellous time.
“Something is going on here: Boris is ringing those bells later and later,” Father Zanton mentioned once or twice . . . Nothing much could slip past him.
“Boris, Father is onto you with the kids about the bells,” Monika warned.
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