25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Even the forlorn bus stop was a sight for sore eyes as we wheezed to a standstill in Mostar. I burst from the van, following the same path from the station I knew so well. My steps faltered outside the supermarket where we first met, picturing him in line with his warm grin. I smiled at the empty store, my feet propelling me forward once more.
The once dark and scary courtyard beyond it pooled with light, sunlight flickering off the broad leaves of the tree at its center. Chiaroscuro shadows painted the narrow alley he’d led me through, until I arrived in the blazing path following the water’s edge. The bridge was more majestic than my memory had served, though the flock of people at its apex was just as familiar.
I was hyperaware of the shop on my left. I stared at the entrance for a long while and drew a few stares myself as I stood there, completely immobile. When I at last moved forward, evidence from where the thieves had broken their way in caught my eye.
The beautiful, old, ornate door was now fitted with an ugly steel padlock, while new wood patched the doorframe. As I crossed the threshold, the smell of iron and leather hit my nose. Dust swirled around me in the air. My dark outline sprawled in a lanky block across the space, slicing the light from Amin seated in the back. His head remained bowed as his eyes snapped up to me, one of them bloodshot and severely blackened. I hesitated under his inspection. Without so much as a word, his focus returned to his work.
I did a quick scan of the shop. It was empty except for the two of us. The floor appeared recently swept, the shelves fewer and sparser, and my stomach clenched as I wondered how extensive the damage had been. I roamed through the rows of wares as I worked up some courage, my gaze continuing to find Amin as he ignored me completely. Finally, I ended up at the cash register, waiting.
He selected a different tool, then pattered an imprint against the metal.
I cleared my throat.
“Can I help you?” His voice was coarse and wispy at the same time, like sawdust floating above discarded sandpaper.
“Is Emil here?”
“No.”
“Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”
“No.”
I bit my lip, turning on the spot to look toward the door. But I couldn’t leave.
“Do you know who I am?” I pressed.
“Yes.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked. His body was stooped. In addition to the black eye, there were tiny cuts along one cheekbone and a slice in his lower lip. I winced.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry about what happened.”
“Did you do it?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Then there’s no need to apologize.”
All righty, then .
I itched to ask him more. How much did he know? Had Emil told him anything at all about the trip or its end? The idea of that being their discussion after everything that’d happened with the shop seemed improbable, but he had admitted to knowing who I was. Was it only because he knew Emil had gone with me on the trip, or had there been more?
My fingers were cold as I crossed my arms. “Do you know about us?” I fished.
His head dipped deeper into his work. I took that as a yes.
My foot tapped a staccato rhythm against the stone floor. It didn’t appear I was getting anything more out of him. I wasn’t in the honorary inner circle like when Emil was with me, very much feeling the outsider once again. I turned for the door, defeated.
“Why did you come back?”
I whipped around. “What?”
He sighed, looking up, but not at me. “Why did you come back now?”
I swallowed. “Because I never wanted to let him go.”
“What changed?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I just—reconsidered.”
He situated a pair of extremely magnified glasses low on his nose with a grunt.
“Do you…do you think he did, too?” I pushed.
His eyes were piercing as they flashed to me. “I couldn’t say.”
“When he spoke about us, did you get the impression that he might?” Amin had made the mistake of opening the door to conversation again, and I wasn’t going to stop it until he did.
“Anyone can change their minds.”
I heard the “but” coming.
“But,” he said, “I can’t say if he has. He has to be willing to look harder.”
I hesitated before asking the one question I wasn’t sure I wanted answered. “What if he’s never ready? ”
He coughed dryly, like there was a pebble stuck in his throat. “Then you need to leave and live your life.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
He gave a short nod. “Yes. It’s that simple.”
I watched his careful movements. I knew Emil admired him. I could understand why, after everything he’d lived through, but I wasn’t so Zen.
“How?”
Finally, his eyes met mine. The bags beneath them pulled at his skin, drooping and making him appear a bit like a basset hound. His mouth was slack, but the burn in his gaze set his otherwise blank face alight.
“You just do it. Life is for living, not waiting.” He thumbed the tiny hammer in his hand absentmindedly.
So basic, but reality was so much more complex. Or was it? I supposed it was straightforward, if you let it simmer, reducing it down to its very core. Which begged to question…what was at the nucleus of my life? What drove it forward?
I sifted through the obvious of family, work, passions, hopes, and dreams, expecting it all to settle into a wide picture of clarity. But of course it wouldn’t, each dashing after the other, battling one another for a place in the hierarchy. How could I choose a path if I couldn’t force it to make sense? How could it all be so murky, so undefined, so stagnated?
And then I realized it.
Since Emil and I had gone our separate ways, I had been numb, unfeeling, stuck in this limbo, looking for something outside myself to jolt me out of it.
I couldn’t stand by hoping for the pieces to fall into place anymore, even the things I felt sure of, the things I knew gave my existence meaning. It required action on my part, real action, not just running, not just searching. Doing. Feeling. Taking it in. All of it, the good and the bad. And suddenly I was full circle.
When dreaming of this trip, that was I’d wanted, to experience everything life could throw at me. And I’d done it, for a while, been open to it all. Then I’d shut down, closed the door, until Emil had come along and cracked it open again. When he’d left, that inch had slammed shut. It wasn’t up to him to unlock it this time. I had to wrench it wide all by myself.
Well, it was a place to start, at least. And I had chosen real action back on Gail’s couch when I’d decided to return to Mostar. Perhaps it meant something. Whatever it might, I wasn’t about to figure it out standing here.
I nodded to Amin. “Thank you.”
He returned to his tapping, the spell broken. “No need to thank me.”
Noted.
“Are you going to tell Emil I was here?”
“Do you want me to?”
I considered it for a moment. “No.”
“Then he won’t hear it from me.”
Which implied he’d hear it from someone at some point. I let out a dark chuckle. Small-town life. My being here wouldn’t likely stay a secret for long.
“What’s funny?”
“I was just thinking about home. It’s the same, where everyone knows everything eventually.”
Amin shrugged. “So he’ll know you’re here. So what? Then he’ll find you when he’s ready,” he said with the cock of an eyebrow, sounding like some morose fortune cookie. He bent his head back to his work, his jaw set.
It was clearly a dismissal. I spun on my heel and exited the shop, automatically checking each direction for a familiar face. People bustled about the market, but none of them were whom I sought.
I wandered to the right and over a modern bridge to the other side of town. I moved with the crowd, swallowed up in the ebb and swell as they explored. Eventually, I found myself in a narrow nook where a creek made its way toward the river. A mini version of Stari Most spanned the gap between streets. I stopped at its pinnacle, staring down at the trickle of water, taking in a deep breath as the wind ruffled my hair. It carried voices from downstream, one which I instantly recognized as Dani’s. The sound set a smile upon my face. I closed my eyes as I pictured him gathering the unsuspecting tourists with his magnetic presentation. I didn’t imagine their shouts and cheers that came next in response.
My eyes snapped open as I sucked in a breath.
And then I was moving.
No more numb.
No more limbo.
Release. That was what I’d yearned for when I last stood atop Stari Most. Hoping to not feel, to forget, to escape what had happened to me.
Not now. This time, I wanted it all. The fear, the exhilaration, the release, but of a different kind. No more holding the door closed with both hands. This time, I was blowing it off its hinges. Old Mallory had wanted this, even in her naivety. Now, so did new, wiser Mallory.
These tiny streets were barely more than narrow paths, twisting in mazelike patterns. I took my best guess at each fork, turning up and to the left every chance I could. Finally, the diving club tower loomed ahead. As I slipped up the bridge’s incline, I tossed Bertha to the ground, tripping as I kicked off my shoes.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, pushing past the crowd. “Please let me through.”
The wave as people parted lulled a hush even from Dani. His attention locked on to me, first in confusion, then in delight.
“Ljepotice!” he cheered, but I wasn’t stopping for a chat. He helped me uncertainly as I climbed up next to him, concern transforming his normally carefree expression. “Are you all right?”
“I’m great.” Butterflies danced inside me as I twisted toward the river. The railing blazed beneath my fingertips as I started to climb over it.
Dani’s hand grasped my wrist. “What are you doing?” he whispered .
“Jumping.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I looked for Luka and finally found him. His face was stony.
“Tell him,” I said quietly.
At first, I thought he wouldn’t. But his expression softened as he stared at me, seeing my resolve and the smile playing around my lips. I was calm enough, centered.
“I taught her,” he said at last. “She can do it.”
I whipped toward Dani, an eyebrow raised in a dare.
After a moment, he huffed, his gaze shooting past my head. There was no doubt what—or rather who—he was looking for. The shop was in a direct line of sight to where we stood. I didn’t look back, waiting impatiently. Then his fingers left my skin.
“All right,” he said. “But be careful.”
“Naturally.”
He returned to the waiting crowd. “A rare treat for you all! It is not only myself who can get all the glory from a jump off of the beautiful Stari Most. So can you! And here we have our lovely visitor from California to demonstrate.” He gestured at me with a flourish. “Take a bow.”
With a roll of my eyes, I bent theatrically into a curtsy. “You know I’m not from California, right?” I said through clenched teeth as they clapped.
He grinned. “Take one for your old friend, won’t you? The people love a good show.”
I snorted.
Dani eased onto the other side of the barrier, offering his hand to help me over. I took it. The butterflies had begun a conga line, their tiny little legs pounding a rhythmic heartbeat into my ears, their powdery wings threatening to take flight in my belly.
“You sure?” Dani asked.
I nodded. The uncertainty I’d fought against the last time I stood on this precipice was gone. “Absolutely. ”
He turned back to his audience. “Give it up for Mallory!”
The applause swelled. As it began to die, I flexed my toes against the edge and heard my name once more. But it wasn’t a cheer. It wasn’t just another voice. And it was getting closer.
“Mallory?”
Deep breath.
“Mallory!” Emil shouted.
My life, my choice.
And I let go.
I flung myself into the open void, leaving behind the crowd, the past, and the future. Now. This was all that was real. Fear, joy, abandon—they jostled for place inside me, but I allowed them to swell through me in a symphony, feeling each in turn. As I fell, my spirit soared, exhilaration propelling me upward even as my body sank toward the earth. This was the world at work as it was meant to be, with our circumstances constantly in flux around a strange sort of tug-of-war. All I could do was pick a direction…and give in to it. My own choices. They were what I could really depend on in life. And I had lived over these last few weeks. I would continue to live.
With that thought, my toes pierced the icy water, plunging straight and clean through the depths. The dull roar of water filled my ears as I floated beneath the surface. It was tranquil down here, the thump of blood pumping vigor through me, singing a message through my veins.
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
I’m alive.
With a single, unified thrust of my arms, I broke the surface. Air whooshed into my lungs. I gulped it in, eyes closed against the burning sun. It was like a movie, the slow crescendo of sound returning from nothingness, the churn of the river, the cheers from above. Opening my eyes, I paddled to shore.
My legs shook as I scrambled up rocks slick with algae. Laughter bubbled from my chest, a giddy high making me feel lighter than air. The few people standing on the rocky beach called out their awe or congratulations, but I turned, looking up to the bridge, raising my hands over my head with a wave. Dani whooped while Luka grinned proudly by his side. I scanned the other faces.
I hoped.
Hope was dangerous.
My stomach twisted.
No, hope was beautiful. Hope had delivered me here.
Stranger’s faces looked back at me.
He will find you when he’s ready , Amin’s voice echoed in my head.
I did one final pass, the smile fading from my lips.
I had heard Emil. I knew I had. But then where was he?
My heart clenched painfully, dismay, desire, and triumph all taking their toll. The chill of the water dripping from my hair began to penetrate my skin, starting as a trickle from the nape of my neck, down my insides, coiling through my muscles, working all the way to the tips of my toes, dulling everything. I watched the people begin to disperse, but it didn’t register as I remained rooted to the spot.
I raised my hand, inspecting it. It didn’t seem to belong to me. I couldn’t feel the tremors shaking my fingers. My arm dropped to my side, lifeless.
This was wrong.
I focused, forcing myself to permit each pang of emotion take hold for an instant before letting it go. When they had all faded into something manageable, I could feel myself again, my hands once more mine, the numbness gone. I looked at the steps leading to the beach, but they were empty. That jolt of hurt seeped in before it, too, washed away. When there was nothing more to sift, in the end, sadness lingered, but so did a little of the euphoria from the jump, now joined with a strange sense of calm.
He will find you when he’s ready.
I held Amin’s words inside, close to my heart, but not quite touching it.
Not yet.