Ivan Dobnik - Vilenica

368 · Guy Helminger
with the men. That was before her father went away. Tiha knew his actual
name was Adnan Dobrić and that he had worked as a journalist for a newspaper.
She didn’t know why they all called him Mr. Carter. His wife Nada
was standing beside him, her long dark hair pinned up, which looked oldfashioned.
Everything about her looked old-fashioned. She had been almost
as silent as wax-face, ever since she joined them. However, Tiha wasn’t afraid
of that; on the contrary. Nada was a doctor. She had examined Tiha’s ankle
and bound it up after Tiha twisted it on the march through the forest.
“So that it doesn’t happen again too soon,” she said to Tiha. She hadn’t
said more than that, not even when wax-face eagerly waved his hand again.
Nada stayed sitting and glanced at wax-face in a way that made it quite
clear who here would decide when it was time to move on. Wax-face turned
around and waited until everybody stood up and was ready to continue.
…
“We can’t just stay here,” said one of the men.
“If the police don’t come, we’ll have to find the police ourselves.”
“I will ask the taxi driver,” said Mr. Carter, passing both hands over his
gray hair.
The rest of the group followed him with a glance when he crossed the
parking lot, tapped the window of a taxi and talked to the driver. He knew
a little bit of German and had heard they would understand him here in
Luxembourg. But the taxi driver didn’t seem to come from Luxembourg.
He was speaking French. So Adnan reduced his sentence to a single word
he kept repeating.
“Polizei,” he said, and again in Serbian: “milicija.” The taxi driver pointed
a finger at the front windscreen and nodded.
“That way?” asked Adnan.
“Si,” said the taxi driver, “tout droit.”
Adnan looked up the street. On the other side of the train station there
was a parking lot for buses. Opposite were some shops, still closed at this
hour. Their facades were gray and dirty, not looking much like the wealthiest
country in Europe. Adnan thanked the taxi driver and went back to
his fellow-countrymen. Some people picked up their suitcases even before
Adnan could tell them that the police station was straight ahead. They only
had to follow that street.
“Can’t we go as well and call Aleksandar from there?” asked Tiha.
Biljana shook her head: “We agreed we’d do it this way. I don’t know what
your father is up to. He knows his way around here.”
“See you,” said Mr. Carter and offered his hand to Tiha. Nada said goodbye
too, she looked at her for a few moments without blinking. Others
waved shortly and went off, Tiha and her mother were left alone.
It was still dark. However, more and more people were coming and going
from the train station. The taxi driver who had showed Adnan the way
to the police station, drew out from the parking lot. A few minutes later
another passenger climbed into the second taxi.