Mrs. FATIMA’S TRAVELS (In preparation for publication)

On that autumn morning, the sky opened unexpectedly above Sarajevo, and the rain, accompanied by light winds coming from the surrounding hills into the city, did not inspire hope that it would stop anytime soon. The usual morning traffic jam, along with the pouring rain, became even longer and slower, creating many road congestions around the city, and making the already sleepy people even more nervous. The motorcycle mailman, dressed in a long yellow raincoat, made his way through that hustle towards Golden Lilies street. Skillfully avoiding pedestrians and their colorful umbrellas, he did not even notice that a small white soggy dog was approaching him, and as he leaped over the puddles of water, he ran to a nearby pine tree, wanting to hide from this watery monster as soon as possible. At a greater distance, a young girl clumsily rushed, calling his name unsuccessfully, “Bind, Bind ..”, trying her best not to lose sight of him, while still struggling with the wind trying to take her umbrella out of her hand. In that reckless race, the puppy found himself a few feet ahead of the wheels of the engine, followed by the sound of a squeaking tire and a rough male voice that frightened the little animal with its swearing and yelling, causing him to change his direction abruptly and turn sharply to his right, running straight across the street, this time to the open door of an old four-storey building, built during the Austro-Hungarian occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

On the third floor of this building, in front of the front door of apartment number 7, there was a slight creaking of the old parquet floor that someone hurriedly walked on. The sound of footsteps stopped for a moment, and then, immediately afterwards, it began again. Ms. Fatima has always been of those who leave everything for the last minute, so it was not surprising that she ended up packing her clothes in a hurry, not to be late for the bus. But still, that old habit still gave this lean woman in her early fifties a slight amount of stress. She glanced at the clock showing 7:45, a very awkward time to go anywhere.

– I won’t have time to make coffee, she murmured to herself, and now my head will ache, I’ll be nervous, and still have to sit in the bus for a long time. Oh, Fatima, Fatima, when are you going to change? she finished her sentence, putting on her blazer suit.

Looking at the shoes she quickly wore, she wondered if they were the best choice for this trip.

– On a rainy day they are more than ideal but with these pants, hmm, they are not the best combination.

These were her brown leather shoes, with a low heel she had once bought in Italy, and with whom she always had a Hamletian quandary, since they did not fit into her casual style of dress. In fact, these shoes had always been a fond memory of her trip to Rome, rather than a fashion accessory. However, despite this attitude, she knew that they could be trusted for longer distances because she had no problems with their feet upon returning home. That relieving conclusion caught her attention so much that she didn’t even notice that in an attempt to take her umbrella, she tossed a few envelopes off her desk under a large mirror in the hallway. All the letters fell on the floor, and it wasn’t until a strange flash appeared around her shoes, that she realized it was the mail she had hurriedly dumped on a nearby table the other day. Envelopes with bills and bank statements were scattered all over the hallway, which she had completely forgotten about.

– Oh dear God, I didn’t manage to solve that either, it’s a surprise I haven’t lost my head ! Today is definitely not my day !

As she quickly gathered up the letters, she put them in the same place they were before, and then looked in the mirror dissatisfied with what she saw. Despite the summer, which recently ended, she couldn’t get rid of that white complexion. Although it made her green eyes and dark mahogany hair more expressive, she was bothered by the pale, which in her opinion gave the impression of fatigue and sleeplessness. But at least she never lacked sleep, The siesta was her dear habit, and all her friends and neighbors knew about it. So none of them dared disturb her in the early afternoon hours. Mrs. Fatimase’s makeup consisted of just accentuating her eyes with crayons, which in this combination often received a bluish glow, and she often applied lipstick to her lips in warm red. Mrs. Fatima’s makeup was just a highlight of her eyes with crayons, which often had a bluish glow in this combination, and she often applied lipstick in warm red color. She often joked with her beautician that her simple style remained from the time of the flower children, and she had not changed it all this time. Stubbornly defending herself against any change in appearance, she repeated in her philosophical tone to her annoying girlfriends that wine-like women were the most attractive, because such women can stun any man. Her naturally curly hair fell all the way to her shoulders, and these peculiar curls gave Mrs. Fatima that mischievous youthful charm. She did not resist the arbitrariness of her hair much, nor did she try to discipline her, but on the contrary allowed her to surprise her with her capriciousness. Especially now, when every minute was precious, if she wants to get on time for the Vienna bus departing at 09.30.

The metallic sound of turning the key in the lock marked the beginning of the race with time. Carrying a suitcase in her right hand and a gray umbrella in her left, she hurried down the stairs to the ground floor front door. She put a black bag over her left shoulder, always carrying a book or an enigmatic magazine in addition to a few little things, to shorten the time, wherever she was, by reading and completing crossword puzzles.

– I hope I don’t meet my neighbor Mina, the thought flew through her mind fearfully, and at the very end of that sudden thought, the distinctive sound of the heavy door slamming at the entrance to the building erupted.

– Maybe someone just left the building, but if it was the other way around, she thought, a meeting on the stairs would probably be inevitable.

After a few steps down the stairs, a figure of an older, larger woman with gray hair tied in a ponytail whose face was adorned with thick-rimmed glasses appeared in front of her. In one hand she was carrying an umbrella, from which raindrops were still squeezing, and in the other, a full bag of groceries, among which stood out, carefully wrapped in a tube, morning papers. It was Selma, a nice neighbor whose apartment was next to Fatima’s.

Seeing her, she took a deep breath and took a step to the right of the wall to make enough room for her to pass.

– Good morning, neighbor, you are going on a trip in such bad weather, you will get wet, look at me!  those were her first words, followed by a broad smile.

– Good morning, Mrs. Selma, nice to see you first thing in the morning because no one but you is smiling on a rainy day! And yes, that is always the case when you put off what you have to do, so when you finally decide to do it, it will be the worst time. She answered, raising her eyebrows slightly and moving her smiling lips down, visibly happy that she ran into her instead of someone else.

– But as the people say, if you meet someone in the morning with full buckets of water or bags, that’s a lucky sign! it occurred to her.

– Yes, that’s what they say, so good luck to you, Selma answered and continued to sigh deeply,  it’s raining cats and dogs outside, no joke. Oh, while I went to the grocery store and newsstand to buy a newspaper for my Ahmed, i got soaking wet, and there it is, my dear, instead of him waiting on the stairs and helping me with these bags, he is still sleeping. Selma continued with a smile, taking the step to the next staircase – if I had been better luck I would have gotten someone more reliable, right?

– But he’s a good man, if he were any different you wouldn’t be with him all these years, Fatima answered, tilting her head toward her left shoulder and heading down the stairs. Selma’s voice came from behind her.

– Only the dear God who keeps us on this earth is good. And everything else, eventually goes bad. Some kind of evil happens all the time, all the time! Just this morning, they said on the radio that some two robbed a downtown jewelry store, who knows where they came from. Supposedly the police do not know their identity, ah, whatever, my dear, they are the same criminals, they will divide the stolen among themselves, ah, thieves!

She finished her sentence in a raised tone, shaking her head and blowing away, slowly ascending the staircase. Then she turned abruptly, and shouted:

– Okay, okay, I won’t waste your time anymore, good luck and take care!

– Thank you, see you!

Mrs. Fatima sighed in satisfaction as the meeting and conversation took a very short time. As she descended to the end of the stairs, she looked at the clock, only a few minutes to eight. The taxi she had ordered half an hour ago was already due to arrive. As soon as she lowered her suitcase so she could open the door, she was spattered by the fresh cool air from the street mixed with rain drops. The rain was really pouring a lot harder than she’d assumed from her apartment. Holding the door with her right hand, she glanced down the street, trying to figure out if a parked taxi was standing somewhere. Despite her efforts, she did not notice him.

– I’ll need a lot of luck today if I plan to get to the station on time, Mrs. Fatima concluded, thinking that it might be best to delay the trip for another, better day. As time went on, the idea seemed more and more enticing, as she had already caught herself explaining to her daughter Jasmine over the phone that she would visit her in a few days.

– She will understand, Fatima thought with a restrained smile, for she knows my habit of doing everything at the last minute and rather clumsily. At that last thought, a smile spread across her face, for she immediately saw Jasmine rolling her eyes and repeating:

– Yeah, yeah, that’s my mom, always the same thing with her!

The sound of the sound of someone’s car brought her back to reality. She looked out into the street and saw a parked TAXI car. A young man in a brown jacket and dark blue jeans got out of the car. He waved his hand in her direction, and when Mrs. Fatima replied with a wave, he quickly opened the umbrella and hurriedly headed in her direction, trying to avoid small puddles of water in the recesses of the stone-paved driveway.

– I’m sorry I’m late, but the weather’s bad, and not to mention the traffic jams, the young taxi driver began to talk, trying to justify himself immediately. Looking closer at him, Ms. Fatima concluded that he was in his early thirties, and a small cut near his right ear caught her attention, by the redness of the skin it seemed quite fresh.

– Good morning, I understand everything, she replied, as it was raining, I thought you wouldn’t come. We all know what Sarajevo’s rainy morning looks like.

– Ah yes, they constantly start roadworks and never finish them, and then it starts raining for days, and here’s a problem for all of us.

The young man took the suitcase and walked in front of Mrs. Fatima toward the car. As soon as he put it in the trunk, he opened the door so she could get in and sit in the back seat. As she settled into the seat, she habitually glanced in the direction of her apartment through the semi-blurred glass of the car, water squeezed down, to make sure she didn’t forget anything important.

– To the bus station?

The taxi driver asked, looking in the rear-view mirror toward the back seat.

– Yes, that’s right, Mrs. Fatima said to him, still looking in the direction of the apartment, because it seemed to her that the curtains in the apartment right next to hers, of the Tulo family, number 8, were moving slightly. It was as if someone quickly drew a curtain and hid behind it.

– It is strange, she thought, there is no one in that apartment, because as far as I am aware of the situation in the building, Mr. and Mrs. are still on vacation at sea, and will not be back until the middle of next month, as they do every year ?!

The sound of the car engine starting and the movement of the windscreen wiper on the windscreen interrupted her thoughts. Without a doubt, she was already late for the bus station. The relaxed taxi driver was in no hurry to get through the morning city traffic. His accent was not local.

– You’re not from around here, right?

– No ma’am, said the cheerful taxi driver.

– Your accent is from the north or northwest of Bosnia, am I right? Ms. Fatima continued to ask.

– Yes, you guessed right, you can recognize us wherever we go.

– A few years ago, I was in Bihac with my late husband, Fatima recalled as she looked at her nails, – The Una River is really something special, that emerald color and those waterfalls. Divine splendor! It really is something that must be experienced, we also ate very tasty ćevapi and drank real Bosnian coffee, the kind I like most.

– So you had a really nice time in my town, the young taxi driver answered, glancing at the rearview mirror for a moment.

– Ah, dear young man, when you go on vacation then you should rest properly. So you are from Bihac? Beside Mostar, in my opinion Bihac is the second most beautiful city, actually the third, because Sarajevo is the first one, she said with a smile.

– This city of Sarajevo is really something special isn’t it? Sometimes it seems to me that everything in this troubled Balkans will disappear, but only that this wonderful city will continue to exist. There’s something magical about this city, bigger than man and time itself. 

– Well said, dear young man. For a man to talk so inspirationally about a city where he was not even born, there can be only one reason – love. A Sarajevo girl took your heart and soul, didn’t she?

At that moment, their carefree conversation was interrupted by the sudden hum of several cars standing in a long line in front of the traffic lights. The gloomy skies imbued with thickened raindrops made the morning heavy and long, , creating a sense of helplessness in this traffic collapse. The typical nervousness of the chaotic atmosphere, which all cities suffer, did not bypass the young taxi driver, who, standing in a column in front of the traffic light, began tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. His gaze circled the street.

– Look at that van trying to get in the lane, what an idiot!

Fatima had been watching the blue van coming from the left side of Baton Desiatsky Street for a while, trying to push between the two cars. Although she was not an active driver, she immediately estimated that this maneuver would not be successful. The squeaking of the brakes and the sound of several cars humming made the driver of the van give up and stop, creating an additional roadblock.

– Very inconvenient. He can’t go back nor forth now, commented Fatima. – There are always those who do not know how to properly assess the situation,  at least you see it every day around the town.

– You’re right, ma’am, because of such, even when I sleep I imagine a foot on the brake, the smiling taxi driver answered.

His remark elicited a big smile on her face. Glancing at her watch, she realized that they had been stuck in this sluggish column for about fifteen minutes, which moved awkwardly and slowly.

– One passenger needs transportation from Džemal Bijedića Street 3 to Baščaršija …. Three passengers from Koševo to the bus station …. Pofalici ….

The female voice of the dispatcher was heard every now and then from the pager, citing taxis where to go, began to annoy the young driver, so he turned on the radio whence the following was heard :

– … belonging to a female person. The police are intensively looking for the perpetrators of this crime. The MUP has learned that the thieves will be issued an interpol arrest warrant. And finally, more about the weather, beyond Sarajevo and part of central Bosnia, there will be gradual cloud clearing. Eastern Bosnia, Semberia and part of Herzegovina ….

– Here we go, the taxi driver said suddenly, reducing the volume on the radio.

– Finally!

Fatima sighed slightly, and looking back at her watch, she realized that she would have plenty of time to get on the bus without too much haste.

Autor: Raif Esmerović