Read Online A Spare Life by Lidija Dimkovska - Free Book Online Page B

new mother and adopt her. Good Lord, save and protect us, instead of grown-ups adopting children, now children adopt parents. A new law in Belgrade, that’s what they said, because there were many single women, and since the state pays for their apartments, they can at least look after a child.” That afternoon, Auntie Dobrila came for coffee. She always came when she needed tweezers to pluck the three hairs that grew near her mouth; she had no tweezers at home, so she used ours, which had been bought at a fair. All us females sat in the kitchen, Srebra and me on our chair, Auntie Dobrila perpendicular to us, and our mother across the table, where no one ever sat when we were alone. That chair was for the dishcloth that Srebra and I used towash our faces in the evening before we went to bed, using the last of the warm water from the kitchen boiler. On the table stood a yogurt container we used as a bucket for scraps; Srebra and I spun it around to read the label for the hundredth time while our mother shot us a look telling us not to. That used to happen sometimes when Auntie Zorica came to visit, too. One evening, we were looking for our mother to give her our key, and she was visiting Auntie Zorica who was seriously ill and who died a few days later from cancer. I wanted to go into the bedroom to see Auntie Zorica one more time, but Srebra was against it. The death of a neighbor was announced from the balcony of the deceased in the form of a loud cry and weeping, and soon the entryway bell would ring. And that’s how we found out about Auntie Zorica. But now, sitting with Auntie Dobrila, the only conversation was about the singles in the neighborhood. Auntie Dobrila also confirmed that it was true; children without parents could adopt a mother—any single woman—and move in with her. “Now, how did that child come up with Stefka?” wondered my mother. But Auntie Dobrila wasn’t surprised. “She’s the youngest, the prettiest, the healthiest; she earns a good salary. The child will live better and better!” “Well, you never know, maybe she likes young children for…well…for those things…” commented our mother. “Anyway, that’s who Bogdan chose; Mara from the Slavija market took him to the town hall, where all the singles from our neighborhood had been summoned, all except Verka, because she’s a drunk and couldn’t be selected, and Bogdan saw them all and liked Stefka the most, so he chose her. People were waiting all day; there were so many children and singles.” Bogdan was lucky to have gotten a mother from our neighborhood. When they heard he was an excellent student, they took pity on him and said, “This child has a future,” so Bogdan will move in with Auntie Stefka. “What won’t they think of,” said Mom. “Children adopting their own mothers. That didn’t exist in our time; how could a child know how to adopt a mother?” “No, seriously, believe me, it’s better for a child to adopt his mother, rather than have some pervert—excuse me—adopt him and turn him into an addict,” Dobrila assured her. There was nothing bad to say about Stefka. A single woman, she had some education,having completed a commercial high-school course. She did not have parents. Their house, in a village in eastern Macedonia, had burned to the ground, and when she heard about it while living in the student dorm, something severed within her; she was beautiful, young, but sad, very sad, just work then home again. She didn’t have friends, or a boyfriend, or anything. When her sister was still young, she had gone off to England, and that sister was all Stefka had left. Now at least Bogdan might heal her wounds a little. She would have someone to converse with. And she had money; she could take care of him. That’s what Auntie Dobrila thought, and Srebra and I agreed with her. But we were still