rid himself of some of the tension he’d created on himself. “How much do you know about my brother?”
Cliff stopped in mid-count, but still his eyes stayed down not meeting his, “If you’re about to tell me some head case story that’s suppose to make me want to stay away from him, don’t bother.”
“No. that’s not what I am about to tell you. I love Pyotr. He’s not just my brother, but my father too.”
Cliff shifted looking him dead in the eyes now.
“More father then our papa was. So when I tell you this, it is only because he deserves the best kind of love.” He took a deep breath and began, “Pyotr is the oldest of eleven children with nine boys and two girls. We were living in Belgrade, he was in the university there and top of the class. He would have been a doctor or a professor had we stayed and he would have worked for the government. In Serbia if you work for the government you’re rich, work for anyone else and you’re poor like everyone else.”
Cliff sat back on the medic bench and listened. He and Pyotr had talked about many things, but his past had not been one of them. In fact Pyotr had said little about himself. But strange how now as he listened to Sasha who never had a strong accent before changed—it deepened and the more he talked, the more he started to sound like Pyotr.
“Pyotr had the whole world laid out before him, but shit was getting bad everywhere around us. Yugoslavia was being dismantled through uprising started by the League of Communists of Serbia in 1989, when Milošević declared a decrease in power for several other republic sanctions. In 1990 the government declared complete media blackout. Freedom of speech was restricted. The Serbian Penal Code issued criminal sentences on anyone who ‘ridiculed’ the government and its leaders, resulting in many people being arrested who opposed Milošević and his government. Then there was the KLA—”
“The KLA?”
Sasha nodded of course Cliff wouldn’t know what that was. “KLA, Kosovo Liberation Army. There were two power forces fighting for control—there was no peace between the two. It was a war in our country, between its army and its police, between Yugoslavia and Kosovo, two conflicts running parallel and simultaneously long before NATO got involved and declared it a war. People died every day. Sometimes for no reason. Gangs were popping up and they were as much trouble as anything else.” He took a deep breath, shifted then leaned against the door of the truck. He had been so young back then, but he did recall the time when soldiers barged into their home and dragged his Papa away in the middle of the night. When he returned the next day everything would change for them. “One night the police came and took my father away. The next day he was back and he and our mother gathered us all up, took us out of school. Next we went to the university and got Pyotr. They gave him all the money they could get out along with a nap sack of food, a few suitcases of clothes and placed us in a truck. For a day and half a night we rode til we got to some shipping port on the shores of Greece where we loaded up on a freighter heading here.” Sasha slid down now sitting on the ledge of the ambulance and stared out of the garage as the sun was dropping down in the sky and shining in on them with burnished orange tones. “I don’t know how they did it, but we were allowed in. And Pyotr from that point on was our father and our mother. He took care of us all. But at a sacrifice. Turned out Pyotr was gay, but he could not have a lover. Aside from immigration, children and family services was always watching him. Can you imagine what they would have thought—a grown gay man with eight little brothers? Suddenly bathing us would have been deemed a mortal sin. It wasn’t until we were all grown up and left the nest he could safely allow a relationship in his life, but by that time he was pretty much set in his ways.
Cliff stopped in mid-count, but still his eyes stayed down not meeting his, “If you’re about to tell me some head case story that’s suppose to make me want to stay away from him, don’t bother.”
“No. that’s not what I am about to tell you. I love Pyotr. He’s not just my brother, but my father too.”
Cliff shifted looking him dead in the eyes now.
“More father then our papa was. So when I tell you this, it is only because he deserves the best kind of love.” He took a deep breath and began, “Pyotr is the oldest of eleven children with nine boys and two girls. We were living in Belgrade, he was in the university there and top of the class. He would have been a doctor or a professor had we stayed and he would have worked for the government. In Serbia if you work for the government you’re rich, work for anyone else and you’re poor like everyone else.”
Cliff sat back on the medic bench and listened. He and Pyotr had talked about many things, but his past had not been one of them. In fact Pyotr had said little about himself. But strange how now as he listened to Sasha who never had a strong accent before changed—it deepened and the more he talked, the more he started to sound like Pyotr.
“Pyotr had the whole world laid out before him, but shit was getting bad everywhere around us. Yugoslavia was being dismantled through uprising started by the League of Communists of Serbia in 1989, when Milošević declared a decrease in power for several other republic sanctions. In 1990 the government declared complete media blackout. Freedom of speech was restricted. The Serbian Penal Code issued criminal sentences on anyone who ‘ridiculed’ the government and its leaders, resulting in many people being arrested who opposed Milošević and his government. Then there was the KLA—”
“The KLA?”
Sasha nodded of course Cliff wouldn’t know what that was. “KLA, Kosovo Liberation Army. There were two power forces fighting for control—there was no peace between the two. It was a war in our country, between its army and its police, between Yugoslavia and Kosovo, two conflicts running parallel and simultaneously long before NATO got involved and declared it a war. People died every day. Sometimes for no reason. Gangs were popping up and they were as much trouble as anything else.” He took a deep breath, shifted then leaned against the door of the truck. He had been so young back then, but he did recall the time when soldiers barged into their home and dragged his Papa away in the middle of the night. When he returned the next day everything would change for them. “One night the police came and took my father away. The next day he was back and he and our mother gathered us all up, took us out of school. Next we went to the university and got Pyotr. They gave him all the money they could get out along with a nap sack of food, a few suitcases of clothes and placed us in a truck. For a day and half a night we rode til we got to some shipping port on the shores of Greece where we loaded up on a freighter heading here.” Sasha slid down now sitting on the ledge of the ambulance and stared out of the garage as the sun was dropping down in the sky and shining in on them with burnished orange tones. “I don’t know how they did it, but we were allowed in. And Pyotr from that point on was our father and our mother. He took care of us all. But at a sacrifice. Turned out Pyotr was gay, but he could not have a lover. Aside from immigration, children and family services was always watching him. Can you imagine what they would have thought—a grown gay man with eight little brothers? Suddenly bathing us would have been deemed a mortal sin. It wasn’t until we were all grown up and left the nest he could safely allow a relationship in his life, but by that time he was pretty much set in his ways.
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