Dark Dreams Read online

  “Jana, please.” Sofia looked around to see if anyone was listening. She took Jana’s arm, leading her to the door. “Let’s talk about the elections instead. We both want our side to win. That’s why I’m doing this.”

  “That’s why you started doing this. Are you sure you’re not out for power yourself?”

  “Jana, enough. I want power, but just to get the program we need adopted by this country. The election is paramount.”

  Jana sighed. “Okay, I’ll focus on the election.”

  Sofia relaxed, finally reaching the subject of Jana’s role in the campaign. “We’d like you to make door-to-door presentations for us; perhaps even neighborhood presentations. You’re a police officer. If you wear your uniform when you talk to people, they will know who to vote for.”

  “Wear my uniform? I can’t do that, Sofia.”

  Sofia stopped walking. “You said you’d support our efforts.” She frowned. “Is this because you don’t approve of Ivan? A moral judgment?”

  “It has nothing to do with you or Ivan Boryda. I asked my supervisors if I could campaign. Public employees, particularly police officers, are not supposed to work actively for political causes. And you want me to do my preaching to the people of Bratislava in uniform, making it clear that I’m a police officer. Sofia, I wouldn’t be on the police force for long if I did that. I’d be dismissed for abusing my office.”

  “When we win, we’ll have you reinstated.”

  Jana didn’t like what she was hearing. “You’re telling me that you’d put me at risk? Make me suffer that kind of anguish? You’d let them dismiss me to get what you want?” Jana looked at her friend. This was not the Sofia she knew, the Sofia who had worked for Transparency and opposed corruption. This wasn’t Sofia, her friend. “Being a police officer is the work I always wanted to do. You want to be a politician. Would you sacrifice me for your ambition?”

  “I said we would have you reinstated.”

  “I’m not looking for reinstatement, Sofia.” When had this insensitivity, this disregard for other people’s needs and happiness, appeared? “I’d be dismissed, my friends on the police force would shun me, all just to gain you a few votes?” They had reached the door. “Sofia, I’ll sit in the audience as a civilian. I’ll applaud everything you or Lesna say. But I won’t do it on your terms. Understood?”

  Sofia looked at her without expression, then turned to another supporter who’d come up to her.

  Angry, Jana walked out of the room.

  Chapter 4

  The reform slate was elected. Lesna was now the prime minister, Sofia a member of parliament. Today the streets of Bratislava were covered by sleet that was still pouring down, the wet pellets immediately turning to slush, forming a cold, soggy carpet. The slush turned dark gray as it mixed with street oil, city dirt, and discarded papers that had been laid down in a glutinous mixture for weeks by the passing cars. Galoshes-clad people slogged through the muck.

  Jana trudged through the wet sludge, her police greatcoat edged with beads of moisture, her police cap visor dripping water down her neck. She pulled the collar closer, wondering at the speed at which the beautiful white snow of early morning had turned to mire. A truck passed, sloshing dirty water onto the sidewalk. Jana skipped quickly out of the way, almost falling when she slipped on a patch of black ice. She turned to yell at the truck driver, but immediately caught herself, feeling guilty. It was not appropriate for a police commander to shout at passing vehicles. Looking around, she saw the structure she was aiming for, quickly crossed the street, and passed through the shop-lined tunnel that led to the next block, where the Gremium Café was located.

  Jana tried to peer through its fogged-up windows. She saw only vague shapes inside. Jana sidled under the half-open awning that was spilling liquid onto passing customers, went through the front door and was immediately struck by the smell of wet clothing mixed with the aroma of burned coffee. She checked out the people inside, a police habit. The customers eyed her in return, resenting her presence. Now they’d have to be on guard as to what they said, did, or smoked.

  Jana stared down the people who were peering at her. Most broke eye contact. Then she saw Sofia. Her friend was graced with her usual stylish hairdo and makeup which, of course, because it was Sofia, and Sofia always looked her best, had not been spoiled by the weather. Now her friend’s clothes were in the latest Western style. She smiled as Jana came to greet her. They exchanged hugs and quick pecks on the cheek; Sofia helped Jana off with her greatcoat, Jana tossed it over the back of a spare chair. They sat, and Sofia slid a glass of steaming apple tea over to Jana.

  Jana took a grateful sip, than warmed her hands around the cup, nodding in appreciation

  “You’re always on time, so I could order and know it would still be hot for you.”

  “You remembered I love apples.”

  “Slovakia doesn’t have much, but it has lots of apples,” Sofia laughed. “And, being good Slovaks, we were always munching them as girls, the two of us sitting on the porch chewing away.”

  “I remember.”

  “Cops, and people who run for public office, we always remember.”

  “We were friends first.”

  “Thank you for that.” Sofia paused. “I thought you might not come.” She smiled ruefully. “You might damage your reputation by associating with me.”

  “Friends come when they’re called.”

  “I thought you would. But who knows?” Sofia winced. “Things are bad.”

  Jana smiled wryly. “In this small country one would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be aware of a scandal.” She took a sip of her tea, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been worried. I was glad you called. All the innuendos have to be hurtful, even for a politician.”

  Sofia tried to shrug it off. “A politico gets used to it.”

  “They’re keeping up the drumbeat. Every day it’s on the front pages.”

  “Sex. They love sex. Readers underline the good parts. So they keep it up.” Sofia patted her hair reflexively. “People are people. If it weren’t about me, I’d probably lap up every word.”

  Jana studied her friend. She seemed even smaller, her shoulders slightly bowed. Jana had always admired her eyes since they’d been young girls, but now, despite Sofia’s makeup, they were darker and more shadowed than usual. The lines around her mouth and on her forehead had not been there before.

  Jana tried to be encouraging. “Sofia, I know you. You’ll get through this.”

  Sofia grimaced, her lips thinning, then tried to sound light-hearted. “I like your optimism. In the dark of the night, when I can’t sleep, I’ll hold on to it. It’ll be my comfort blanket, protecting me against the dark.” She sighed. “At least I’ll try to hold on to it.” She took a sip of her own tea, reflecting. “I won’t hide it from you. I’m in a pit and I don’t see my way out.”

  “I’m sorry, Sofia.”

  Sofia reached over and touched Jana’s wrist in appreciation, then took a deep breath. “They’re after us like hounds closing in on their prey.”

  “How is he taking it?”

  “Not well. We can’t see each other. No phone calls. He thinks, from the information they’ve put out, that they’ve bribed some secretary, or the telephone company, or the landlord to record our conversations. The dogs want every chunk of us, every small bite, until they kill us.” She paused, reflecting on her life, trying not to sound too angry. Still, bitterness colored her words. “We pass in the halls and try not to look at each other. For us, life has shut down.”

  “And his wife?”

  Sofia’s lips tightened. “I think she was the one who first told the reporters. He says no, that she seemed shocked to learn of our ‘love nest,’ as they call it. She pretends it is not happening. She is brave, he says. I say nothing, but think horseshit. She knew. And she is the kind of woman who won’t admit it.”

  “I’ve heard wives are always supposed to know when a husband is unfaith
ful.”

  Sofia nodded, then fixed her eyes on Jana, studying her.

  “Did you know when your husband cheated on you?”

  “I don’t know if he was unfaithful, so I can’t answer the question.” Jana hesitated, trying to force herself to utter the words. “When he . . . when he died, I didn’t sense that any other woman had been involved in our lives.”

  Sofia made a rude noise. “All men cheat.”

  They sat in silence, each alone with her thoughts. Jana considered her life with Daniel. It had been hard, but not because of women. He had been a revolutionary, had robbed banks for his cause. A handsome man, charismatic, opinionated, willful. But, Jana thought, he had not chased other women. And, finally, when his world imploded, he’d committed suicide. The literal truth was that he had been unfaithful, but not in the way Sofia meant. There are many ways to be disloyal, to leave a mate, to renege on your word, to destroy trust. Her husband had promised, even though it was an implicit promise, that he would, at the least, do his best to stay alive for her. It is that one ultimate, unbreakable promise that every married couple makes. And Jana’s husband’s suicide had left its mark. He’d promised, then lied, and deserted her for eternity. The pain was still there.

  Jana turned her attention back to Sofia. “Sofia, you had to know when you began this affair that it was dangerous for an elected official to have a romance with another politician, particularly one who was married. He’s a deputy prime minister, Sofia. You’re a member of the Slovak parliament. Eventually, someone had to find out. It would be irresistible to the media.”

  Tears began flowing down Sofia’s cheeks. After a few seconds she began to rub them away, to pretend they were not there, as she struggled to remain in control of her emotions. “You don’t have to rebuke me, Jana. I know. I wake up in the morning, barely hold my tears concealed inside me all day, then go to sleep sobbing on my pillow at night.”

  Jana had not come to criticize her friend. Sofia was having a hard enough time. “The words just came out. I apologize.” She reached over and took Sofia’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m a fool. I was insensitive.”

  “No. I’m the insensitive one. I always have been.” Sofia squeezed Jana’s hand back. She was silent for a moment, then, as if explaining her actions to herself, said, “I couldn’t stay away from him. One step led to another, then another, then it was irrevocable, and I was locked in. And so, here we are.” She pulled a compact out of her handbag, using one of the napkins on the table to try to wipe off her smeared makeup. She was only somewhat successful. “Better to talk about pleasant times when we were innocent, when we were young. We dreamed, you and I.”

  “Everyone has hopes. Young, old, we all have them.”

  “Some are fantasies.” Sofia winced, then managed a slight smile. “Your father was a wise man. You remember him telling us to be careful what we wished for?”

  Jana remembered. “Be careful what you wish for. Castles in the sky can turn out to be dark dungeons.”

  “I’m living in one, Jana.”

  “We’ll get through it, Sofia.”

  Sofia’s cell phone rang. She reached into her purse and pulled it out, barking an impatient “Yes.” While Sofia talked on the phone, Jana glanced around the café, once more surveying the customers. A number were looking at Jana’s table, peering at Sofia. Their expressions, particularly the women’s, were not kind. Sofia was right: her fantasy had turned into a nightmare.

  Sofia finally terminated her phone call.

  “Politics,” she explained. “They never let you rest. A meeting has just been called. I must go.” She started to rise.

  Jana touched her arm, stopping her. “Sofia, you phoned and asked me to meet you here. There was urgency in your voice. You wanted something. What is it you need? Help of some kind?”

  Sofia stared at Jana as if about to speak, an anxious look on her face. Then she stifled the impulse, quickly standing to don her coat and scarf. She paused long enough to lean over and give Jana a quick peck on the cheek.

  “I just wanted to see you and talk.”

  Jana stood, gave her friend a hug, then held her at arm’s length, looking directly at her. “We have known each other forever. You know you can confide in me, right?”

  “Of course I know that.” Sofia pulled away. “We will always be friends.” She smiled, gave Jana another quick kiss on the cheek, and hurried out of the café.

  Jana looked after her. The smile and the kiss had been a politician’s smile and kiss, not a friend’s. Sofia had always confided in Jana when things were bad. If she didn’t feel comfortable enough to open up, then Sofia was in the worst kind of trouble. And Jana had no idea how to help her.

  Jana’s friend was truly living in a dark place.

  Perhaps even worse than the one she’d been in when they were young.

  Chapter 5

  The Bratislava of that long-past day had not been unkind to the young, just indifferent. Certainly the Slovaks had taken care of their children under communism, then under the new government after the communists fell. Things were harder, but parents managed to feed their children and keep them clothed, if not stylishly dressed; and if the clothes were second-hand, they were at least carefully patched. But there were no places for children to play among the gray soot-stained buildings of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; or to run free between the drab edifices built during the not-so-glorious reign of the Bolsheviks, structures which were decaying even faster than the older ones around them. So, like kids everywhere, they made do, carving playgrounds out of garbage-littered lots, dashing after a soccer ball through moldering back streets, making do amid the stoops of dreary, half-empty structures. Or they whiled away the afternoons when school was over by talking with a best friend.

  Jana and Sofia had been best friends since they had met at school and found out that they both disliked their teacher, a man named Adolphus. It had been easy to dislike him. He found ways, in every class, almost on an hourly basis, to praise the current government for its commitment to warm relations with Russia and to disdain the West. Unfortunately for him, since everyone knew he was of German, not Slovak, descent, he was axiomatically, uniformly distrusted.

  Today Jana’s mother was visiting Jana’s sick grandmother, and Sofia’s mother was working in her small hat shop, so the two youngsters had been free to walk through the streets holding hands and to settle down on the front steps of a closed cinema that still displayed posters of the last film it had shown over a year ago. Sofia was holding forth on the subject of boys, which still didn’t interest Jana much, but which was irresistible to Sofia.

  “I like them looking at me,” proclaimed Sofia, smoothing a stray lock of hair. “Then I like to ignore them, or sneer at them. Then they get mad.”

  “Why do you want to make them mad?”

  “’Cause I noticed that they come back and stare even harder.” She snickered. “Then they bring you a present or something. Just to interest you. Most of the time I ignore that too.”

  “Why do you care?” snapped Jana, a little irritated. “They’re not supposed to give you presents. And you’re not supposed to take them.”

  Sofia shrugged off Jana’s criticism, turning her nose up, assuming a haughty attitude. “They’re not worth much, so I throw them back.” They had both seen that done in a movie they’d gone to. The heroine of the film was a good girl, and everyone believed she had done the right thing, so Jana nodded her approval.

  They chatted away for another few moments until Sofia noticed a black government-licensed Zil limousine pass by. She smiled at the man who looked out from behind the partially open curtain of the back-seat window. The car slowed.

  Jana slapped at Sofia’s knee in disapproval, her voice taking on an edge. “Stop smiling. The man is ugly, and his thoughts are uglier.”

  Sofia’s smile lost a bit of sparkle. “He’s respectable. He has a big car. And it’s a Zil. He must be a high official if he has a Zil instead of one of thos
e ugly, noisy Tatras.”

  “Government officials are never respectable, particularly the older ones. Everyone knows that.”

  The curtain in the back seat dropped as the car picked up speed.

  Sofia watched the limousine move away, making a small moue of regret. She hadn’t had her chance to really flirt and to enjoy the results, which was the whole point of flirting.

  “Who says they’re not respectable?” she asked.

  “My father, sometimes, and he’s a judge so he should know. He says they steal, and other things.”

  “What other things?” a suddenly pugnacious Sofia demanded, her jaw jutting, a little angry at being reproached for exercising her newly found skill.

  “You know.” Jana’s voice took on more assurance. “They don’t want me to hear so they drop their voices. Or my mother tells my father to be quiet.”

  “She’s brave to do that.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s a judge.”

  “They’re married,” explained Jana. “She’s louder than he is.”

  The two of them nodded, both understanding that louder was better.

  “Marrieds always argue.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  Jana tried to think of one pair of married neighbors who seemed happy. There were two, both sisters married to a pair of brothers.

  “The Slavins.”

  “They’re not Slovak.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “They are also brothers who married two neighbor sisters. That’s different.”

  “I fight with my brother.”

  “They’re also Jews. Jews keep it quiet.”

  “How can you keep an argument quiet?”

  “That’s what Jews do. My uncle says they have secrets they only tell other Jews.”

  “What does that have to do with them arguing?”

  “That’s the reason you don’t hear them arguing.”