Baka's Wish
(page 4)
They stood there for a moment looking at each other. Mara stood with eyes that were wide and curious. The stranger's were more earnest and apologetic.
"I'm sorry to trouble you," said the stranger. “I’ve been walking for days. Can you tell me which way to the monastery?”
“Monastery?” Mara asked.
“Yes. I can't seem to locate the monastery.” replied the stranger.
“There’s no monastery here, just a church. The closest monastery is in Mileseva, and that’s three kilometers away.”
“Oh, goodness! Then I am lost.” The stranger said. “This obviously isn’t Prijepolje.
“No.” Mara shook her head.
Neither one knew what to say for a moment. Mara wanted to get back to spinning before Baka woke up, but in a way she was glad for the interruption.
“What do you do here?” asked the stranger.
“I spin yarn. Mama and Baka too.”
“Spin yarn?” The stranger asked. “Nothing else?” he grinned. "What else do you do, if I may ask?” he asked.
“Not much,” she said. He sounded like someone who had gone to school. “Perhaps,” she thought, “he’s a professor.”
“Does it ever get boring?”
“What?”
“Do you get bored spinning?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. She couldn't tell if he was being coy, trying embarrass her. If he was a professor, he might have thought, "What a simple person she is."
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Mara answered, shyly. She stood sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t laughing at her in his mind. “Would you like some water?” she blurted.
“That would be wonderful,” answered the stranger, politely. He could see into the house from where he was standing. The spinning wheel was near the window. Holy pictures hung on the wall above a makeshift altar.
“Anyway, it’s not one's place to be bored,” said Mara as she reached for the pitcher.
He waited patiently, examining the icon of St. George on the wall. “So tell me. Why isn’t it your place to be bored?” he asked.
She looked back at him, studying his face, wondering if maybe he was just being naive.
“Well,” she started. “Life is a gift. We should be thankful. To be bored would be selfish and arrogant and would offend God,” she answered. "That's what Baka says."
The stranger listened, nodding attentively.
“It means you’re lazy too,” she said as she reached into the cupboard for a glass. “Besides, boredom is for rich people who don't work.
“I see,” he said, seeming satisfied with Mara’s response. “Where’s your Baka now? She seems like a very wise person.”
“She’s sleeping,” Mara answered.
“She must be very happy to have such a hard worker as you for a grand daughter,” said the stranger, smiling a polite gentlemanly smile.
“I don’t know how happy she is,” Mara said. "I suppose she is. Maybe not. She's kind of grouchy, actually."
"Your Baka's not happy?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose sometimes," said Mara. "Baka says that if happiness happens, we're just lucky to have it. There are things happen that we can't control, and we have to accept them. Like when Tata died in the war. It's all God's will. You know.
The stranger looked puzzled.
“You mean you can’t wish to be happy? You can't desire it or strive for it?” He asked.
Mara looked at the gold watch chain the stranger was rubbing between his fingers.
“Baka says God grants us happiness as he sees fit.”
The stranger looked at her for a moment without saying anything. He pulled pulled the gold watch on the end of the chain and looked at the time. He wound it a few turns, then lightly rubbed the face against his coat, then put it back into his watch pocket. Then he reached inside his old brown pin striped suit and took out a wrinkled handkerchief and wiped his shining brow. His was the kind of suit a gentleman wore. But this suit looked a bit wrinkled and road weary. It may, for all she knew, be the only nice piece of clothing he owned, the suit one wore when they went to church, or visiting.
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