Authors: Michael Genelin
Sofia’s eyes followed him all of the way out the door, then, through the window, as he walked down the street.
“Sofia, he’s married,” Jana warned.
“Just lusting in my mind.”
“Sofia, you’re going to be a politician. Scandals aren’t good for officeholders.”
“I’m aware of what I can do and what I can’t do.” Her voice showed her irritation. “You’re not my mother, Jana.”
“Yes, I am.” Jana changed her tone. “Eat your food, darling Sofia,” ordered Jana, in her best maternal command voice. “The greens will be good for you.”
Sofia grimaced, then smiled. “Maybe you
are
my mother.”
They began eating. Sofia got a few words out between bites. “I’ll remember your advice. Don’t worry, Jana.”
“I promise I won’t worry,” Jana replied, knowing she already was.
Over the next weeks, Sofia resigned her position at Transparency. Several months later, at a press conference given by the coalition parties, Sofia walked to the dais to endorse the fight against the government. Seated next to her was Ivan Boryda, the man they had met in the restaurant.
D
uring the early part of the campaign, Jana did no work for the coalition slate trying to win the elections. She’d not been asked. Then the election took a different turn. The strategists of the party had decided that those who had participated in the bicycle tour of the countryside would come to Bratislava and, with all their other supporters, saturate the capital with appearances. Hundreds of worker bees were to spread their message, meeting every potential voter they could possibly contact, trying to squeeze out the last potential ballot they could for their candidate.
When the call came from Sofia, Jana was glad her friend thought she could help. Until then, Jana had been happy to be left out of the campaign. Nevertheless, since Sofia had called, Jana responded. As a precaution, before she saw Sofia, Jana went to her supervisors to discuss what she could and couldn’t do because she was a police officer. They told her emphatically that she was precluded from getting involved in politics.
After that meeting, Jana was relieved. Her participation in the election was going to have to be limited, perhaps to her presence in the audience or better still to something as simple as stuffing envelopes with flyers. Of course she would have to be out of uniform.
She called her friend, who sounded harried and had little time to talk on the phone. Sofia asked Jana to meet with her and others that night. There would be a mixed group of volunteers at a small meeting room the party had rented in the Stara Radnica, the old town hall.
Crossing the square in her “civilian” clothes, Jana saw the town hall’s yellow tower and red tiles. She’d always liked the building, but now she felt a certain sense of dread as she neared it. She was hoping that the meeting would be called off. Her wish was not granted.
At least fifty people were crowded into the room, seated on folding chairs, more of which had to be brought for latecomers. That left a good twenty people still standing. Everyone was talking at once, their conversations reluctantly trailing off when the meeting began.
Sofia sat at a table in the front of the room next to Lesna, the small, energetic and very bright man who ran the coalition of opposition parties and who would be prime minister if they won. On his other side was Ivan Boryda, the legislator she and Sofia had met. Jana had seen Boryda and Sofia together on television several times; each time Sofia had a big smile on her face and they had looked very comfortable together.
Sofia beckoned to Jana. She introduced her to Lesna, proclaiming her the best police officer in Slovakia. Lesna made nice noises, saying he’d heard of her and her work, and thanked her for giving up her free time to assist their efforts. When he turned away to say a few words to another campaign worker, Sofia began to reintroduce Jana to Boryda, who interrupted Sofia.
“Jana Matinova, from the restaurant. I told you I wouldn’t forget your name.”
Sofia reached up to affectionally pat Boryda’s shoulder. “He remembers everyone’s name. I think he knows all five million people in Slovakia by name.” She brushed lint off his arm in a familiar way, running her fingers down to his hand. “Ivan is brilliant.”
“I’ve read that in the papers. I generally distrust the newspapers, but since
you
say it, I know it must be true,” Jana replied.
They all laughed, Boryda looking appropriately abashed.
Jana watched their interaction, the way they leaned against each other, the way Sofia constantly touched Boryda, the way she looked at him, the way she said his name. Sofia was in love. There was no doubt in Jana’s mind that the two had begun an affair. “I wish you a huge sweep of the election and a change for the good in the government.”
Boryda thanked her, but he was already trolling the room with his eyes to find the next person to charm.
As others came up to talk to Sofia and Boryda, Jana began backing away. “You’ll do the country proud,” she murmured, hoping against hope that they would. She was also aware of the possibility of a scandal that might destroy both their careers. Slovakia was still a very proper country when it came to politicians’ personal lives. And Boryda was a married man.
Jana sat in the back of the room, watching the proceedings. The mayor introduced the three dignitaries, and then called on Lesna to speak. There was loud applause when he stood up, which became a rhythmic clap of appreciation, until he finally held up his hand to quiet his audience.
When he spoke, Jana was riveted. Not that he used grand gestures or a stentorian voice to command attention. He seemed sincere, all-inclusive in his gentle, direct approach, and captivated everyone in the room. It was a huge change from the man who was currently in power, a change for the better. Jana was glad that Sofia was in his camp. He was the right man for the job.
Lesna apologized for having to leave the meeting early, departing as soon as he was through. Sofia and Boryda remained to get the needed commitments from the people in the room, not only to vote for them but to campaign in their neighborhoods, to get their friends and neighbors to campaign, and, perhaps, to give small contributions to help win the victory they were all working so hard to achieve.
Sofia gave a persuasive talk, emphasizing the need to curtail the illegal activities of the people in power, their nepotism and cronyism. She reminded her audience over and over of her past work with Transparency in trying to open government to public scrutiny. She did exactly what she had been brought into the campaign for, lending needed authenticity to the party’s calls for honest government. Her prior reputation added almost a religious note of conviction. The response to her speech was good, though it lacked the aura of veneration that Lesna had received just a few minutes earlier.
Boryda was the last to speak. He started slowly, his voice gradually building in volume, his gestures becoming broader as his speech progressed. His words, starting off mildly, reached a roar of reproach for the current regime. His eyes flashed, his posture was assertive. He carried the audience with him, held them in his hands and lifted them up with him in a final burst of exhortation. There was a split second of silence when he ended. Then the audience jumped to their feet, screaming approval, applauding, the applause becoming a chant. They bathed Boryda in adoration.
Boryda glowed, beaming when the people began pushing forward, crowding around him, patting him on the back, complimenting him. Finally, as a pair of bodyguards appeared out of nowhere, Boryda edged away from his admirers and was escorted to the door, a retinue like a comet’s tail trailing after him. Sofia, who had stayed behind to talk to the few supporters who remained, walked over to Jana.
“Did you like Lesna?” she inquired, although Boryda was the man she really wanted to talk about. “So logical, so clear in his perception of what should be done for this country. A good man.”
“I think he’s a wonderful man, particularly for a politician.”
“Jana, I’m now a politician.”
“I’ll ignore that fact,” Jana teased. “And continue to think of you as my friend instead.”
Sofia kissed her on the cheek. “I know. I always think of you as Jana, my old pal, and not as a threatening police officer.”
“I’ve never threatened you, Sofia.”
“It’s just how you look in a uniform.”
“That’s one of the reasons I left the uniform home. Let’s talk about the new man in your life.”
“A new man? Me?” Sofia asked in mock innocence.
“We both know, Sofia.”
“He was wonderful, wasn’t he, Jana?” Her face flushed with emotion, the words gushed out of her mouth. “He’s a genius, the greatest public speaker I’ve ever seen. He seizes audiences and carries them with him.”
“To heaven or hell?” Jana asked.
“No, not to hell. He will take us to where
we
want to go.”
“No, Sofia,” Jana corrected. “He will take us to where
he
wants us to go.”
“Why do you say that, Jana? I know Ivan Boryda; you don’t.”
“I listened to his speech. Demagoguery. He loves power. He supports Lesna and the coalition now. He is the kind of man who, when he is ready, will try to get rid of them. He wants center stage. He
wants!
He sees himself as the prime minister. He’ll always need more, Sofia.” Jana considered, then decided to plunge ahead. “And he’ll want another woman after you, Sofia.”
“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.
T
he 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 unfaithful.”
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.