A Touch of Light

by Cilika Kunovic

  “What is this all about?” Mark asked as he came outside after them. He fully expected to be reprimanded for asking.

  “Your son had been assigned to become a ski messenger for the German Army,” the senior officer told them. At which point, they expressed their condolences and left. Lucille took hold of Mark’s arm.

  “So he wasn’t meant to live after all. At least, this way he died at home surrounded by his loved ones and he will be buried at home, where we can visit his graveside.”

  “Which is more than my brother Martin was privileged to have, during the First World War,” Mark added.

  “Speaking of the war, nobody knows what is ahead of us. Just think how many men are being enlisted. We are losing all of the hired help, except for the women.” Lucille was trying to be positive.

  There was a time, after the funeral, when the family came to a standstill.

  “I feel like I’m floating and I find it hard to concentrate.” This in turn found everyone else worried.

  “And I keep going over and over Mark’s life with Ram and I wonder if I could have done anything to prevent this tragic accident from happening. I think of him coming to the vineyard with Ram after school and bringing his happy, outgoing self with him . . . I used to wonder if that came from you, or Martin,” Mark teased lightly.

  “And I see him standing on the wagon and singing his heart out, not knowing that his sisters were watching him. I used to worry that he would fall off that wagon and hurt himself, but he just laughed at me. He was afraid of nothing. Every time he disappeared after school, I was quite sure of his whereabouts.” It felt good to reminisce. She found it easier to talk about it with Mark.

  “I often saw him with the reins in his hands standing, even uphill, as he rode toward the vineyard.”

  “Yes, and when I approached him about it, he tried to convince me that the reins protected him from falling. No one in his right mind believed that.” Lucille was able to chuckle.

  He would forget to comb his hair, claiming that it wasn’t important enough to worry about. He had a rationale for everything that he did.

  “As for the singing, that came into our family with you, Lucille. We never knew that kind of life before. Not that we were not happy at times, because we were,” Mark said. “Mark also liked to ski, and that is where Uncle Ivan came in.”

  “Ivan would have adopted young Mark if he could, so he did the next best thing — he visited a lot. Mark, in turn, taught Ivan how to ride a horse, and that made them even. Ivan has been a strong support to lean on. He has lost his buddy and he is helping us instead. And that goes for Uncle Drago as well. Don’t you think?” Lucille felt that she owed it to the two of them.

  Uncle Drago had aged considerably, all at once, after the tragedy struck his precious home. His life had become meaningless where he now lived. “You know, Mark,” he said, “I am not suffering; but the older I get, the more I want to go home to where I was born. This is the only home for me and no other.”

  The war was at least causing a distraction at the moment for all of them.

  Mark suffered yet another health problem. An ingrown hair infection on the side of his face swelled into the size of a balloon and it had to be drained. He said to Lucille, “For the first time in my life, I don’t mind being ill.” Mark was having a hard time communicating with people after the tragedy involving young Mark. “I much prefer being at home with just you and the girls.” He had a high fever before it got lanced, but after that, he recovered quickly. This was just as well, as Vera and Marie had to be protected from harm.

  Rumours were circulating that young girls were being raped and many boys were being taken to war under the appropriate age, as would have been the case with young Mark, had he lived. After all, he was just short of fifteen when they came to get him.

  In the valley, there were basically two different armed forces. The German Army was the visible one, and the partisan brigades formed the opposition. But they remained mostly in the forests. The winters were cold and it was hard for the partisans to survive. Many died of exposure.

  “Quickly, Vera and Marie, your father is taking you to the vineyard to rake some leaves for the winter.” That was only one of the excuses for protecting the girls. Other times, they helped the old man, Stan, who was by now on his own and needing help. He had been accused of being a spy for the partisans because he came into the village at times. The Germans assumed that he was collecting information — yet he was actually just coming to get food. It was unfair to accuse him of such things, as all he ever wanted was to eat and hopefully die in peace.

  Lucille mostly stayed at home with the two younger girls, for there was less danger for the two of them. There were many bad nights when planes would come over the valley, and there was fear of bombs being dropped.

  One night, the windows clattered so badly, they were sure that bombs were being dropped nearby. Instead, a volcano in a neighbouring country had erupted, and the tremors were so severe they were felt far and wide. That also happened during peacetime and it often caused earthquakes. Many questions were being asked the next day by the Germans.

  In the meantime, Mark started complaining about his stomach.

  “It is probably because of the stress,” he thought; but the pain persisted. “Dr. Loncar is sceptical about sending me to the hospital, where casualties are being brought in at all times, so I might be turned away.”

  “Mark, you need surgery, or you might not live. This is an emergency.” Lucille was determined to get him in for the required surgery. And when she got going on a mission, there were usually good results.

  They found out that an ulcer had burst, and his bowels were tangled. That made it urgent enough to do the surgery. However, due to the casualties, Mark was sent home prematurely. There weren’t enough beds for all of them. He was happy about being home, but he did not follow the prescribed diet.

  Helena stepped in. “Lucille, I will take care of Mark and help him recover, since you are being torn in all directions.”

  “That is great, Helena. I appreciate the help, but you must make him listen to you in order to get better soon. Will you?” Helena also needed a distraction and looking after her brother was a good thing. But the two of them did not follow the doctor’s orders, and it took Mark a long time to get his strength back.

  So this had become a way of life by now. Helena felt useful and she was satisfied.

  “One thing is good in this house,” Lucille commented.

  “And what could that be?” Helena asked.

  “We all love the same people.” They both managed to laugh.

  Monika had had a relapse at the same time but she never said anything about it. “I’ve come to see my baby brother and check if he is behaving,” she joked. Her children also didn’t come for a while, so everyone just assumed that they were told not to disturb their Uncle Mark. But actually, they would have told Uncle Mark about their mother; so she prevented them from coming.

  As for Magda, she hardly ever knew what was going on at home, as she kept busy and detached. In reality, she was exposed to greater danger and greater violence on a regular basis. The city where she lived was being bombed quite often. Then, one day, she appeared. “Karl has been taken into the German Army, and I hardly ever hear from him.” She came to cry on their shoulders.

  Needless to say, they were all upset, only to find out that she had kept in touch with Monika all along and even visited her for a day or so at times during Monika’s illness.

  “Why have you not come home in all this time?” Mark wanted to know. And he looked over to where Monika was sitting. “What is going on here, Monika?”

  “Magda has always had her weird ways of dealing with — or, for that matter, not dealing with — people. I have enough of my own problems and no energy to spare on Magda’s eccentric ways.” And turning to her sister, she said, “So, my dea
r sister, you had better explain why you are still being impossible, even at your age. Hasn’t the war taught you anything? You are using me in order to punish others. This is really your problem.”

  Lucille had had enough. “Well, so much for that.”

  “Magda, from where I see it, you made a mistake in coming home now of all times. So you are welcome to leave anytime you are ready,” Mark said and meant it. Magda left shortly after.

  Mark finally got some strength back. Vera preferred doing other things rather than babysitting her siblings. Only by now, the girls were quite reasonable, and the war had made them aware of things they never thought of before.

  The summertime in the valley can be very beautiful. Too bad that none of them were able to appreciate the breathtaking view staring them in the face. In times like these, you don’t hear the birds singing, or if you hear them, you find it hard to believe that they are singing at all.

  As for Vera, she had her own reasons for being oblivious of the good or the bad around her, for she was in love. Her world was beautiful with or without the war, and the young man, named Darko, was one of the partisans who would periodically come to the vineyard and, much later, to the house.

  Scrambling for safety while the warplanes rampaged above had become part of their routine.

  “Girls!” Lucille could be heard screaming. “Where is everybody?” That could last a few minutes, or, other times, for hours. The south end of the house had thick walls, and lying beside those walls was safer for them than any other place in the house.

  “Mom, when is this going to end?” The girls often asked; as if Mom should know.

  “I have no idea. And don’t bother asking your father, for he doesn’t know, either.”

  Suddenly you hear a bang and you freeze in fear. It could be just a hand grenade but they also can kill. The Germans were so nervous and defensive that it made them jumpy and, to cover up for their insecurity, they acted quite vicious at times. But then, some were vicious by nature. It is true that wars are based on political considerations, etc. However, if you are attacked, you have every right to defend yourself. It is the ones who start the wars whom we must condemn. Basically, there are no winners in any war — some just lose more than others.

  Life on the farm was still better than in any city, where they suffered more with the bombing. There was always food on the table and even enough to share with the relatives who lived in the city. Magda, for one, who, had it not been for the war, wouldn’t even bother to come and say “hello,” found out the hard way that she needed them. And therefore she graced them with her presence. Well, a family is still a family. The Zanton children were good children, in their own way.

  Vera had enjoyed acting even when she was a preschooler. She participated in school plays and, much later, on the local stage. She was quite a leader in many ways. Yes, she was bossy and stubborn, but resilient in wartime beyond her age. She fell in love with the wrong person but dared to challenge the odds, as long as things went her way.

  Young Mark would always be remembered for his delightful personality, always greeting the local folks with a smile and singing whenever he could get away with it. May he rest in peace . . . He never had a chance to become an adult.

  Marie was a hard worker, even at her young age. She was the one always trying to keep peace in the family. She would entertain them even if she had to make a fool of herself in order to succeed. Does this sound familiar?

  Leni had her own role in the family. She was easygoing and loyal to her parents and especially to her little sister Silvia. As soon as little Silvia started walking, the two girls communicated in a special way. The friendship between them, and with the girls next door, was a good distraction during the war. Those girls were somewhat disabled due to their mother’s lack of exercise during her pregnancies. Playing together included playing store, playing with the animals, playing on stage, and dressing up in their mother’s clothes and high heels. They even had a string going between the two houses, or rather the attics, and a tin can on both ends of the string. For some strange reason, they claimed, they were able to communicate through this system. Leni and Silvia always covered up for each other. If one of them was to be in trouble, the other one would willingly take the blame. Talk about a bond that was to become a lasting one!

  “Mark, you understand me the best. My children have disappointed me,” Magda confessed. “Karl must have joined the German Army without telling me and now he is officially missing in action.”

  “Magda, I am sorry to hear that; but why all this closeness, these days? It makes me nervous.”

  “Are you suggesting that I am not welcome at home? Father would be disappointed in you if he heard you talking like that,” Magda protested.

  “Why ‘Father,’ all of a sudden? What happened to your statements about how Mother liked you the most, etc.?” He didn’t need this tension around. “What about Nesta? Why don’t you tell her your troubles?”

  “If I am not welcome here, then I will leave.”

  “Next time, bring your daughter with you and then we can talk. Okay?”

  Nesta was married to a wealthy aristocrat who would have nothing to do with his mother-in-law.

  Mira’s and Lucille’s children got along great.

  As for Joe’s daughter Ksenia, there was nothing. She stopped wanting to have anything to do with her father or her brothers in America. Of course, during the war, there were fewer possibilities for travelling, but under these hopeless circumstances, there was no need to blame the war. She was too bitter and she never married but died a finicky old maid.

  Rudolf, the eldest of the three brothers, married and had two children. He was bitter and had little respect for his father. He obviously blamed their father for all the bad things that had befallen them. He remained in Philadelphia until his death.

  Martin married and also had two children. He lived for the most part in Philadelphia, but later moved to California, where he died.

  Joe III married and had a daughter, who remained in Philadelphia. Joe moved to Florida, where he later died.

  Ivan’s daughter Ivana became very visible to him. The older she got, the more she kept in touch with her father.

  In late 1944, the Germans burned down the local school in

  Gomilka. There were no casualties, since the fire took place at night. The church next door was not damaged, but the parsonage next to it was quite damaged. The damage to the school was extensive, and it took some time to repair it.

  “Guess what happened last night?” Lucille announced to the family in the morning.

  “What happened?” Everybody wanted to know.

  “The school was burned down.”

  “Who burned it?” was the first question. Then, all of a sudden, it hit them. There would be no school for a while. Yes! That would be great. But it didn’t take long for it to be rebuilt.

  The fire shocked the local residents. If something like that can happen out of the blue, then what about their homes and businesses? Tension was building; but life went on, for the most part.

  What with the war and Mark Jr.’s death, the laughter that had once echoed throughout the Zantons’ house had pretty well disappeared.

  “These girls deserve better,” Lucille said to Mark.

  “Do you have a recipe for rebuilding lives, my dear?”

  “We will find it. We must. When the war is over, there will have to be some changes around here in order to recapture the sort of order that brings security.” Then she hugged him tightly.

  “I feel as if I had met you in another century,” Mark said. “Everything seems so far away. Do you feel that way? When I look around, I feel an emptiness that was not here before, a hollow indent into which I don’t want to look. The good thing is that I feel that way only when I am alone. But when I am with you and the girls, I feel that the hole is not so deep, after all.
”

  “We have three girls who need us. Vera might think she doesn’t, but I am not at all sure that this love affair is such a good idea.” Then with a sigh, she turned away and let it go.

  Mark felt the same but never mentioned it to Lucille. He knew how stubborn Vera could be, and to challenge her would make things even worse. Hopefully, the war would end soon, before this young love could get too strong; perhaps it could come to a natural end due to circumstances.

  “Mark Zanton, I know what you are contemplating. Why can’t you talk to me about it?”

  With a strong hug, he pulled her to himself and kissed her on the forehead like a child.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Partisans

  VERA WAS MADLY IN LOVE WITH DARKO, a partisan, and the plan was to get married as soon as the war was over. Hopefully, that would be soon, as there were some indications that the war was nearing its end. Darko’s father, having been told, was delighted and would periodically come to visit.

  “Hello, Stefan, nice to see you!” Mark greeted the man. “This could be tricky, you know.”

  “Yes, I appreciate your effort in making it possible for us to meet here,” Stefan replied.

  “Don’t thank me; I have nothing to do with things like that. I don’t have the nerves for such things.”

  “Hello, Stefan!” Lucille arrived just in time, as Mark was due for his rest. He was never quite well, ever since his surgery. “Darko is planning to come down the creek as soon as he can,” Lucille added. There was a path along the side of the creek that all the villagers used at times.

  Darko had just reached a point near the house when he heard a sigh. He had a knack for vigilance, and as soon as he heard the sigh, he knew that the meeting would not be possible. He indicated to Lucille that he had to retreat. The sigh had come from a so-called “friend” of Vera’s — or a girl who used to be a friend of hers. This particular girl was known to be a local informer for the Germans. She had just happened to be walking along the path when she spotted Darko. She was jealous of Vera for dating Darko, as she herself had a crush on him.