I remember, it was July. The month of July. Later, I learned to call it the month of Srpanj1F But, then I still called it July. And later, in that apartment over the Evangelical church, I remember listening to the pop song “When You Forget About July”. And I cried, was bawling like a small child.
I remember, you told me that I was going away just for a short while. Until things settle down. That I’ll be back for my birthday in August. That I have to, I couldn’t really understand what at the time, that I have to escape from something for just a couple of weeks. At then end, it turned out to be six years. Even afterwards, I never really returned. Though I was a returnee. I was a returnee to a city I had never been before. They stick strange words on your forehead, while you are trying to discover who you are. It is written on your forehead, but you are not able to see.
I should hurry up. They are getting closer to us. I don’t have much time to tell you everything. And ask you, are the memories of the bear real or just an odd form of comfort.
The woods around the young man and the grave are dresses in autumn colors. The worms are pushing up through the ground to the surface. They can sense the rain. The worms would often hide under the stones that are now the building blocks of the grave. They would rest under there. Just exist. Now there is a dead man’s body under the stones. The body of the young man’s father.
– I remember, I ran up the tree with the backpack on my back. When it was time to leave. I wasn’t really trying to avoid becoming a refugee. No. If I remember well, I was saying goodbye to the tree which I climbed every day. Where I set the record for the fastest climb in the neighborhood. Out of all the kids, I was the fastest climber on that tree. I took me just five seconds to get on top of it. You and my sister shouted at me to come down. You warned me that we mustn’t be late for the bus.
I also remember, you cried. My sister and I sat on the bus. I saw you crying. At the bus station. You are standing there and a friend is standing next to you. You are waving at us and crying. Your friend has his arm on your shoulder. Not trying to hug you, so he won’t steal from you even a second of the chance to watch your children depart.
I remember, I started crying, too. And I cried until I fell asleep. Just staring at the worn out headrest of the seat in front of me or looking out of the window at the dying towns that we were passing through.
I didn’t believe you when you told us that we were only leaving for a couple of weeks. If I had, I wouldn’t have cried so much. Or maybe I would have? I don’t know. But I do know that all the other children were talking that I would leave. Not like I was leaving for a couple of weeks, but for good. Them, I did believe.
A large drop of rain broke its fall and shattered on the young man’s head. He looked up in the sky as if in prayer to be granted just a few moments more.
– I wonder if my bear exists at all. And who made him up. Mom and you or me? If it was the two of you, if it was just you, than this time I’ll believe you.
We drove through the darkest night that I ever remember, along a narrow, miserable country cobblestone road. That I do remember. I don’t remember the faces of the other passengers. I don’t even remember my sister’s face on that bus. I do remember, she sat next to me. Serious and calm. While I was crying my eyes out. And she held her arm on me at all times, as if she was afraid that I might disappear. I know today, she was just a teenager who was given the task to look out for her little brother. But, I don’t remember her face. At least not the one she had on that bus. And I do remember the darkness. All around us. Towns in the dark. Or villages. Houses with no lights on. We drove slowly. That I also remember. And the dead body on the side of the bus.
In fact, I don’t remember the dead body. Not all of it, anyway. Maybe just the leg. But I do remember hearing that there is a dead man’s body on the road.
Who would’ve thought that later, when this end of the world came, we would see hundreds of them? What d’ya say, old man? Who would’ve thought that that single one by the side of the road, just the legs of that one, seem something quite acceptable, just an everyday occurrence?
But, I do remember that. I don’t remember the armed checkpoints that we passed through. And we passed through many. I know that from your stories. How you called friends and acquaintances to find out if your children came out safe and sound. How you feared that we might get taken of the bus at one of those checkpoints. But, I do not remember them. I don’t remember whether I saw even a single armed man. Even though there must have been tons of them. There must have been.
But, I do remember that we stopped … Sometimes we would sit for a long time in that tin box , breathing and keeping silent, waiting in the oppressive heat and silence. I don’t know what we were waiting for. No one left the bus. No one would come out or come in. No one would turn on those little reading lights. And everyone was awake. And silent.
They are very close to us, now. I can feel their presence. Dad, it’s the cannibals. These things around us. I can feel them behind my back. They love to sneak up on you from the back. So we won’t see them or watch them as they attack.
Never mind.
I do remember, finally, that we stopped and that everyone rushed to one side of the bus. In my memory, that is the right side of the bus. Though, in my memory of the thing my seat was also on the right side of the bus, next to the window. Yet, I do remember, everyone hurried to one side of the bus, while I was the only one who remained on the other. Almost the entire bus wobbled and rocked because of the weight of all the people who leaned against the windows to see the bear.
And I knew, that was my teddy bear. My guardian bear. And none of it was odd to me. That is how I remember it. And I didn’t rush to the window with all the others to see the bear, and yet I still remember that he moved gently like a bear skin and powerfully like a bear attack. He wasn’t afraid of all the scared people on the bus. He just walked by, as if he wanted all of us to see him, for me to see him.