Sworn Virgin by Elvira Dones Page B

back to your studies. Have you forgotten?’
    Hana answers that she can’t leave him in this condition and he says yes you can, what else can happen to him?
    â€˜There’s no discussion, Uncle Gjergj. I’m not leaving you alone.’
    â€˜It’s an order, Hana. I’m not asking you. I’m ordering you to go.’
    Their short argument takes a long time. Uncle Gjergj loses his thread and smiles. He seems to take stock of every phrase and delays looking at his interlocutor until he has decided to expel his words, one after the other, slowly. Hana has learned to adapt to his rhythm.
    â€˜Classes are over, Uncle Gjergj.’
    â€˜But they start again in September, right?’
    â€˜Why should I go back? I’m not going back to school, it’s not worth it at this point …’
    He starts moving, as if he wants to get up, and then looks at his stick but can’t reach it.
    â€˜Ok. I’ll go to Tirana,’ she eventually concedes.
    â€˜Go to the student office and make all the necessary arrangements to enroll again in September.’
    She sets off, leaving her uncle to the sporadic care of the village nurse. She gets a ride with the agronomist from the cooperative, who is taking a jeep down to the city for an important meeting. She gets a train from Scutari, which breaks down in Lezhë, so she has to wait for whatever ride she can find.
    She gets to Tirana at nightfall. It is hot, the roads smell of melted asphalt. The center of the capital city is dark. In order to save what little power there is, they don’t turn the streetlights on. She’s happy to walk along the clean streets, wending her way to her dorm. It is almost empty, as most of the students are home for the summer vacation.
    Hana has the room to herself. She goes to bed and sleeps soundly.
    The next morning the Liberal Arts Faculty is deserted. The heat is overpowering. The bad-tempered secretary gives a highly acid, ‘What do you want?’
    â€˜I’ve come to say that I’d like to do my last exam in August.’
    â€˜Who said you could?’
    â€˜I’m a student in this Faculty.’
    â€˜Who didn’t take her exam and disappeared from the face of this earth without any justification.’
    â€˜My mother died, Comrade Secretary.’
    â€˜How many mothers have you got? One seems to die every year.’
    Hana stares at her reflection in the glass pane of a cupboard. She thinks she looks quite pretty, in a blue and red checked shirt with two big pockets. She shifts her attention back to the secretary.
    â€˜My aunt, who became my mother after my parents died in a car accident many years ago, she died. And my uncle, her husband, is very sick with cancer. He’s all I have left.’
    The woman tries to look sorry, but fails. All she can do is tone down her sarcasm.
    â€˜You could have come and asked permission.’
    â€˜I didn’t have time. I asked my classmates to do it.’
    â€˜That’s not sufficient, young lady. The trouble with you mountain people is that you never learn to obey rules.’
    Hana looks back at herself in the glass and adjusts her curly hair. She directs a faint smile at the perfumed hyena who, in the meantime, has improved the color of her hair-dye.
    She is suddenly seized by the thought that she has to go to the sea. She leaves the office before the secretary can open her mouth again.
    It is Friday.
    The sea is majestic, polished and shimmering like a perfect dream. Nothing detracts from its immensity, neither the garbage rotting on the beach nor the ungainliness of the few bathing costumes on show.
    She has found a quiet spot near Durrës. There are only two families with kids. She looks around, then closes her eyes and tries to empty her mind of thoughts. She only partly succeeds. Her demons are still there, but they are polite and almost harmless now. They smile at her.
    The sand burns her feet. She has thrown her